Hotaru
Her own eyes follow Aidon even as her ears are tuned to Maeve's soft response. Her honesty, as always, rocks Hotaru's defenses. For a woman steeped in duplicity, such nakedness is disarming, unsettling. Hotaru has searched for a way to counter honesty in the past. Has yet to find anything. It is a weapon in the hands of people who would never use it as such. The contrasting power to the likes of people like her, who work on the opposite side of the spectrum, hardly ever honest even with themselves. Aidon's eyes are arresting, but his judgment slides off Hotaru's back like water on oil-slick feathers. There is only the aching void where Atlas would be, staring right back. That thought turns her head away, back to Maeve.
Delicate hands slowly reach to accept the flowers. Careful to keep any skin from brushing as if it would somehow break this civility they're managing. A ragged exhale is the only betrayal of her composure when Maeve admits to the absence of lavender. "Thank you," she murmurs, and brings the blooms to her nose to inhale their sweet scent. "I'm surprised you remembered." Hotaru isn't sure if that says more about how she sees herself, or how she sees Maeve.
It seems Remi was right about Frey's abilities with children however, and she tucks that bit of information away to ruminate on later. Perhaps it would be better to take the children before the end of the season, as she'd proposed? "Is it easier, now that he's older? I'm scared I'd miss the younger years, even if they wouldn't remember them anyway." A small slip of vulnerability, one that has her hands tightening around the stalks in her hands. But even then, she cannot help but try to comfort the woman somehow, and she opens one hand to let a small breeze tickle against Maeve's cheek. "There is no shame in being Abandoned. Though it places him at a disadvantage, Frey has never spurned me for it." She cannot speak to the other gods, but at least he would have one to turn to if he wanted to pursue that route.
Hotaru allows the woman to move closer, until they are huddled together on the scorched circle of earth. "I was unwell for some time," she murmurs, the corners of her eyes tight with self-hatred. "I...wanted to hurt them. I was sick with grief, with sorrow. Remi took them, took care of them, until Phoebe could heal me. I've only just been reunited with them - but they are doing well. Unbothered by my short absence." And for that she is grateful beyond measure. It is a huge thing, to tell Maeve this, and yet she can't imagine telling anyone else aside from Deimos. Maeve is a mother now, and they'd been close once - both are things that make her tentatively trustworthy in this instance. "Remi proposed taking them to Frey to age them as well. I said yes. Before the end of the season."
Delicate hands slowly reach to accept the flowers. Careful to keep any skin from brushing as if it would somehow break this civility they're managing. A ragged exhale is the only betrayal of her composure when Maeve admits to the absence of lavender. "Thank you," she murmurs, and brings the blooms to her nose to inhale their sweet scent. "I'm surprised you remembered." Hotaru isn't sure if that says more about how she sees herself, or how she sees Maeve.
It seems Remi was right about Frey's abilities with children however, and she tucks that bit of information away to ruminate on later. Perhaps it would be better to take the children before the end of the season, as she'd proposed? "Is it easier, now that he's older? I'm scared I'd miss the younger years, even if they wouldn't remember them anyway." A small slip of vulnerability, one that has her hands tightening around the stalks in her hands. But even then, she cannot help but try to comfort the woman somehow, and she opens one hand to let a small breeze tickle against Maeve's cheek. "There is no shame in being Abandoned. Though it places him at a disadvantage, Frey has never spurned me for it." She cannot speak to the other gods, but at least he would have one to turn to if he wanted to pursue that route.
Hotaru allows the woman to move closer, until they are huddled together on the scorched circle of earth. "I was unwell for some time," she murmurs, the corners of her eyes tight with self-hatred. "I...wanted to hurt them. I was sick with grief, with sorrow. Remi took them, took care of them, until Phoebe could heal me. I've only just been reunited with them - but they are doing well. Unbothered by my short absence." And for that she is grateful beyond measure. It is a huge thing, to tell Maeve this, and yet she can't imagine telling anyone else aside from Deimos. Maeve is a mother now, and they'd been close once - both are things that make her tentatively trustworthy in this instance. "Remi proposed taking them to Frey to age them as well. I said yes. Before the end of the season."
i understand you now to be both companion and adversary
a familiar thorn and threat
a familiar thorn and threat
