[ she is skeptical. Of course she is. Like a cat that can lick her own wounds, she looks back out at the restless and bitter ocean. She doesn't want an apology-- then what does she want? Those eyes speak volumes-- understood volumes, but are libraries of knowledge and experience that...weren't there before. She looks back at Lillie. There's some distrust in the shadows of her eyes. In the shadows under her eyes. When was the last time she got a good night of rest?
Probably before Guzma jumped into that honkey-tonk portal made by the little princess' sweet and kindhearted mother.
Psychotic. Sweet, and psychotic. ]
Who are you? [ a little warrior, in the body of a little princess. Plumeria won't show her weaknesses, but she'd get to the bandages and water if she had to break an arm trying, because she knows that she needs it. And honestly? She's ready to. her fingers tighten around her own wrist and she sucks in a breath, exhaling and trying to will her stiff and angry muscles to calm. No point in getting flustered. ]
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Probably before Guzma jumped into that honkey-tonk portal made by the little princess' sweet and kindhearted mother.
Psychotic. Sweet, and psychotic. ]
Who are you? [ a little warrior, in the body of a little princess. Plumeria won't show her weaknesses, but she'd get to the bandages and water if she had to break an arm trying, because she knows that she needs it. And honestly? She's ready to. her fingers tighten around her own wrist and she sucks in a breath, exhaling and trying to will her stiff and angry muscles to calm. No point in getting flustered. ]