[se] a preference for clashing metal

MELITA

“Yeah,” she muttered, opting to twirl another vine around her finger. More than just monsters and shit though, and if Jack felt the urge, he could dive headlong into the pocket of images stored in the Honeybee’s memories. Claws and fangs. Screams of pain, agony, and torture. Muffled whispers of promises, assurances, trickery, and deceit. Columns of fire burning around the edges of a shelter, and only the dark to roam within.

Or, if he chose to ignore it, the youth would just pout, staring off into the sea. “Maybe I’ll just get really drunk there instead.” Too lost in her thoughts anyway, she didn’t see the last of the stitches, or the dress coming her way. It immediately felt right over her head, with a violent, hissing sputter spewing and spilling from her lips. “Thanks,” was also muffled underneath it too, as her hands went to remove it from her locks. “I’ll be sure to let you have it after.” A little banner of bloodstained fabric seemed adequate for the Ark.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight