for there are many ways to kill a man they say
Wessex snorts, amused that someone would consider her blunt words an adequate replacement for the coy and sugared words of practiced hostesses. “Hell no, I’m probably feeling just as awkward as you look.” She is far more at home on the battlefield than mingling, feeling oversized and bulky - dangerous, even - amongst finer-boned beings who don’t quite know what to make of the horned, somber-looking soldier. The feather mare, however, sets her at ease by accepting her offer of both apples and company. She is quickly intrigued by the revealed device, watching it taps the apple and drains it of its juices.
“Oh?” Wessex asks, followed soon by a “May I? indicating that she’d like to try the pure liquid in its concentration - or whatever the heck Ampere is making. Wessex is familiar with intoxication, she just hasn’t seen it in this form, having never accompanied, her fellows to the bar. Too much goes wrong when one is drunk… but a taste couldn’t hurt, right? It’s a party, and even if she’s on guard duty, they’re going to be tossing rings are her head and tail in a bit. That must require a bit of liquid assistance, right?
Volterra, the Indomitable joins them, and Wessex once again finds herself drowning in curiosity about the massive stallion. But wait! A roving gaze catches the form of a champagne colored mare with a glowing blue horn as she passes behind the ruling pair. “Who’s that?” she queries, finding herself inexplicably drawn to the way she seems to avoid everyone else. A woman after the fairly reclusive Corporal’s own heart, if she ever saw one. She’s about to follow, investigate the stranger on pretense of ‘security’ (look, an excuse is an excuse, ok? It’s built into her job title) when the sky lights up with flashes and bangs and to be honest, it feels rather familiar. But she can’t quite put her finger on it until the God of the Spark shows up - and by then, she can’t find the mare in the crowd of watchers.
Well, fuck. On the other hand, her God is there, and she’s half inclined to interrupt his powwow with Rikyn.
I am Iron and I Forge Myself
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[O] the night is young [MAIN FESTIVAL THREAD]
