As strong as the seas are stormy.</style>
No words or rebuttals were forthcoming, and Hotaru snorted softly to herself at the dead silence that echoed around her. Apparently all Arah was good for was a momentary explosion of hot air, and then running away like a coward with her tail between her legs when faced with the truth. It mattered little to the maiden in the end; she would be given her rank, as begrudging as it would be on her part, and she could scurry off back to doing absolutely nothing with her thieves. Hotaru would be there when she fell, cracking upon her own falsely porcelain throne, and she would revel in her fall from what little grace she'd mustered. Hotaru would prove them all wrong, and they would watch and whisper, until her name was as well known as those she'd idolized, her predecessors and founders of the Basin. This land was made for her blood, had been created from it, and it was her right to claim the throne when she'd worked so hard for it. The others? They could complain all they wished, but until they actually did something, Hotaru could care less.
Thranduil is silent to her far right, and as Deimos speaks, trying to scoop together the pieces of the meeting, their eyes meet in a quiet sort of conversation. He does not hold her gaze for long, but it is enough for her to see the buried fury in his gems. Pooled like magma in the crevices of his irises. There would be time later for them to speak, and Hotaru was keen on that meeting being swift and coming around as quickly as possible. He was as slippery as she was, but Hotaru would sink her claws into him soon enough, hold him there and express her somewhat grudging respect and appreciation for his outburst on her behalf.
New members flood in one by one, and Hotaru flicked her tail idly to curl round her hind ankle as she watched Deimos handle the growing congregation. When promotions were passed around, Hotaru watched in a detached sort of awe as sparks began to travel along the hooves of those they'd named, not as grand an entrance as Ophelia's claiming of the throne but still a sign that they'd chosen right. It was a comfort, to know their little meeting and Hotaru's own input had not been misguided, and was supported and upheld by the Lord of Time. One of the few minuscule comforts of the meeting, but she'd take what she could get after all the unnecessary drama.
A starry newcomer spoke up, drawing the maiden's attention as he was uncomfortably echoed by their newly designated Haruspex. Hotaru quirked a grin at the pair of them, eyes falling to Atlas, judging him subtly. He almost reminded her of Ulrik, sharp and uncaring in turn and measure. "If Ashamin swears by you, then he will be trusted. Welcome to the Aurora Basin. Approach one of us later, or perhaps Ulrik and Johnny, we will see to placing you appropriately." There was no hesitation, no looking to Deimos. They were not truly equal, as was apparent by the distrust in her and Thranduil, but she was intent on erasing that completely.
Then, looking out to the crowd as a whole, she spoke. "Congratulations to those of you who have been promoted. Work hard, flourish. You are deserving of your titles, and we hope to see more exemplary work from you in the future." Ah, now wasn't that an appropriate closure?
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saints just swimming in our sins again
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