Impossible, Is Scribbled In The Margin Of This Drawing In Her Notebook. Then, At The Bottom, Grudgingly,

Impossible, is scribbled in the margin of this drawing in her notebook. Then, at the bottom, grudgingly, Beautiful anyway.

Tell Me.

They had been trudging all night through the scarred plains of Ascalon, the sole survivors of a fight too large and brutish to not have been a setup. The question, of course, was whether it was an inside job. Whether the victims were, in fact, both victims.

Milli stumbled along, her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the cold of shock and environment both. Her back was scraped deep by large claws and each step was an agonizing ache and pull. Markus had fared no better, arms and torso bearing similar wounds. A few long, dark miles back, Milli had made her peace with things. If Markus was a traitor, he would kill her. She wouldn’t fight him. She had no chance. She would ask for swiftness, mercy if possible. And if he wasn’t a traitor, well…she was waiting for that question as well.

They found a small creek, nearly dry, but with enough muddy puddles to wet their lips, at least. A large hand landed on her shoulder and Milli winced. One way or the other, it had come.

"Did you plan this?" came the deep, gravelly voice.

Milli shook her head. “I didn’t, Markus, I swear.” Even to herself, her words sounded flat and distant. But how to tell him that it wasn’t for lack of sincerity?

He spun her around, glared at her angrily. Even in the dark, she could see the burn of his green eyes. “Make me believe it,” he growled.

"I-I don’t know how," she stuttered, backing away, over the slippery rocks that banked the creek. With a slip she ended up on her butt, back aching like it was on fire. Milli arched, mouth open to scream but no sound came out.

A black-gloved hand wrapped around her throat. “Then figure it out quickly. Those were good people we lost back there. Lost to the Cause.” His eyes narrowed. “You’ve never been really loyal, have you?”

He wasn’t squeezing hard enough to block her air, just to hold her steady. Lying still didn’t seem like a good idea. “N-no,” she admitted. “I-I haven’t wanted to restore Ascalon. B-but I’ve been loyal to the organization. To the Hangmen,” she said quickly. She hoped he’d believe her.

His hand squeezed and she grabbed it, holding on, not sure if she could pry his fingers from around her throat. Not sure if it would do any good if she could. “You have a strange idea of loyalty, girl,” his voice rumbled, rolled like thunder across her. Then he threw her down, on the dry bank next to the creek. “But if you’re loyal to the Hangmen, you’re loyal to the Cause. It’s time you started learning there’s no difference.” Then he grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Move.”

"Y-yes, thank you," she said, gulping air. Rubbing her throat gently, Milli trailed in Markus’s wake. To her, it was always the same. She was loyal to what kept her alive.

There's something for everyone at Clockworks & Mechanicals Unlimited! Come by and see our line of custom altered weapons. Anything you can dream up, we can make it happen!

X me.

Milli watched. Saw the turquoise-haired woman fleetingly, hat pulled low. Saw her disappearing into darkened corners, speaking with unquiet souls. Sending others out to do her work.

Milli listened. People said things when they were around her that gave clues. Cia was a lord now. Had power and authority. Ran operations in Lion’s Arch with even more force behind her than before.

Milli pondered. Had Cia changed so much? Was that why Jack had put her in charge of the Fleas? Or had she never changed? Was this always who she was, and Milli had been blind to it? Or, worse, had Milli changed and never even noticed.

The thought kept her up nights.

She looked once more at the tiny clockwork toy for Amaranth Resh. It was as perfect as she could make it, small iridescent wings hiding the functioning parts inside. When wound it would flutter those wings and totter about, revealing its inner workings. A thing of amusement and wonder.

comfort food

(OOC: I swear I'll start answering my asks soooon!)

(RP between Tia Culnamo and Milli Bowyen)

Her head popped up at the knock, but the voice outside was not one she was hoping for. Not that she minded. "Wait, Tia stop," she called with urgency, stumbling across the room to turn off the security system. Fuck, had she remembered to turn it on at the shop? She wasn't sure. Milli opened the door, clothes mostly discarded but for a long-sleeved shirt and her underwear. Her hair was down, unsually, and a mess. She wasn't wearing her eyepiece and the harsh scarring on her face was shown to the light of day. She winced at the light. "What do you need? What's wrong? Are you not feeling well? Should I call for the barber?" She didn't ask about Cia. Bit her tongue to keep herself quiet.

Tia froze at the door when she said to wait, knowing it was likely best not to intrude more than she needed to. The questions, though, caused her brow to quirk. "I'm fine," she assured. Even if she wasn't, Tia was more likely to keep it to herself. Business was one thing, she'd talk to Milli about that but her personal turmoils were her's and her's alone. "I was going to help you with the shop but I guess I was too late. Instead I brought you food," she continued her eyes peering around the woman's home as if she expected it might need cleaning too. There were five boxes in total. Three were fish and chips as Tia expected Ciara would be here. The top two were ribs with a side of fried potatoes and onions and green beans. It was difficult for Tia to find anything on the tavern's menu that included vegetables but she did her best.

"Oh. Good," she said, energy leaking out of her like a deflated balloon. "I cleaned up the shop this morning. Wanted to get it before the blood got too tacky. You can...leave the food on the table or something. I'll eat in a while." She turned and walked back to the bed, laying down and drawing the covers up close around her. She'd just sleep a few minutes more. Then eat. Dress. Go back and check on the shop, make sure it wasn't unprotected.

The parcels found the table as instructed, but Tia didn't leave just yet. She watched as Milli disappeared back into herself. When a person is injured multiple people tend to suffer but only the injured one is healed. Everyone always forgets the loved ones. Tia slid her jacket off, letting it drape neatly over the back of a chair - still filled with her private arsenal. Next she unlaced her boots, placing them side by side next to that same chair. The weight of the bed was momentarily displaced as Tia crawled up behind Milli, wrapping her arms gently around the woman. Her fingers combed slowly through her hair. She didn't bother speaking, Milli had enough going on in her head for that. She just held her and did her best to soothe the woman so she could truly rest.

She wanted to protest, to send Tia away as those kind arms slid around her. She didn't need comfort. Didn't want it or deserve it. She'd hurt Cia. Hurt herself. But, as she'd told Cia before, she had a hard time saying no to people. Especially when she was so fragile. Choking back a sob, Milli turned and buried her head in Tia's neck. She held onto the woman tight, letting out all her wordless pain and fear in those silent, shaking tears. It took a while, but the tears slowed. A while after that, Milli's breathing evened out. And finally, she slept.

Once she was sure Milli had succeeded in finding her slumber she slid from the bed, tucked Milli snuggly under the covers and headed to that chair that had been keeping track of her things. Tia dressed back in her boots and jacket and saw herself out, ensuring the door was locked on her way. She'd be in the shop until Milli came by, doing whatever tinkering needed doing so the shop didn't get behind.