the ascendant
she/her
twenty-nine
November 03
sootopolis
demisexual
councilwoman
champion
i got new love, new skin to wrap myself in
victory lap
POSTED ON Aug 12, 2024 18:13:11 GMT
snarls whisper from the mouths of the caves. two salamence snap their jaws in warning at each other, claws flexing against stone in anticipation. they are wild things, held fast at the fringes only by loyalty to the woman who tests their patience.
they too despite the waiting.
a brow arches at her first comment. it's a common sentiment and one she's even shared before, but that was before she stared down the barrel at political repercussions, at all the lives that can be impacted by a single piece of information.
"i have spent nearly every waking hour planning for what's to come. so have my colleagues. there are a thousand and one pieces to all of this and we cannot afford to let our adversaries know what we're doing. we can only trust that our own trust us."
freya fishes out another couple of arrows and reaches into a pouch at her side. with a swipe of her thumbs, she decorates the arrowheads with different swathes of paint. and while robin talks, she pockets the paints and withdraws her sword.
it's a wicked piece of metal, curved and gleaming, meticulously cared for. her thumb presses to the side of the hilt and with a rough up and down snap of her arm, the blade is cleft in twain. it snaps into position, blade becoming limbs, hilt becoming grip. an obsidian thread races down the back and she nocks one of the arrows with a hooked finger.
and you're so, like, composed.
the fire in her stirs; ancient anguish and primordial pain festers in her blood, twisting her insides, reminding her that she is part of a larger whole. somewhere in the skies, the serpent waits too, but a millennia of existence has made them patient in ways no mortal can fathom.
it's why freya is patient too.
"i do not sleep very well," she says. "the three hours or so i've been getting every night are riddled with nightmares. someone i love very dearly is in a complicated slew of danger. and the city i abandoned three years ago is still suffering under a terrorist's regime. i can assure you, robin, that outside of my own slice of paradise here, i am not composed."
and then she tucks her chin and the hiss that slips past her teeth is both sharp and ragged: "tlush."
a blue and maroon shape darts into the air and she turns on her heel, eyes narrowing to trace the sprightly dragon's trajectory. his fangs gleam, spittle spattering the side of his neck, and then a bright splotch of pink explodes on its shoulder. claws graze the flank, sending it spinning on the hook, but he knows he's lost his chance at his prize.
his wings flare and he retreats. freya chuckles.
"it's another test of endurance. the waiting, i mean. but i have found it's easier if you surround yourself with people who are also waiting. who can share that burden with you."
she holds out the bow and a green arrow. "want to try?"
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