Furiosa (
eumenis) wrote in
nexus_sages2015-07-19 01:59 pm
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Enter the (Ex-)Imperator.
There's a woman at the edge of the Parklands, knee-deep in grass. She looks like a soldier, one arm a metal prosthetic, a skull-shaped brand marking the nape of her neck, a machete in a sheath at her hip, and possibly other weapons hidden on her person. She's dirty, stained with dust and oil, and tension sings along the lines of her back and shoulders. Like she's waiting to be attacked.
At the same time, though, there's a distinctly misty look in her eyes as she stares out over the field before her. Flowers. Insects. Streams and lakes. Maybe she's hallucinating. Maybe she's dead.
She has one question, though, because beauty is so often a trap: "Is this water safe?"
At the same time, though, there's a distinctly misty look in her eyes as she stares out over the field before her. Flowers. Insects. Streams and lakes. Maybe she's hallucinating. Maybe she's dead.
She has one question, though, because beauty is so often a trap: "Is this water safe?"
no subject
"Whisper your name into a fire?" That's creepy, if it truly works, and yet strangely appealing. "Hm. I'll keep it in mind. Thank you, for the interesting discussion."
She gives a slight incline of her head, a bow of farewell rather than the hand-clasp she's too wary to offer.
no subject
Show off.
no subject
Show off, indeed, and despite her reluctance to make a deal, she doesn't want to court conflict with him, either. She'll keep him in mind, either way.