#( verse v || modern.

[bushelofmuses]

@castle-of-glass From Here

"Understood. Sorry, it was just...a burning question and my curiosity is endless, unfortunately for everyone," she said, smiling sheepishly. Too curious for her own good most days. She was sure she drove her friends up a wall with all of the questions.

What? She liked to learn new things.

And a person made of glass? Gods, how could she not ask about it?

Wait, manners.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even...that was rude of me. I'm Myrna."

[cosmicallybound]

     intrigue   flitted   across   the   witch's   youthful   visage,   a   dark   brow   quirked   in   silent   response   as   she   quietly   huffed.   no   one   smart   enough   dared   speak   to   her   in   such   a   way,   let   alone   think   that   she'd   heed   any   command   given.   dark   lashes   fluttered   as   she   studied   the   man   through   them,   head   canted   to   the   side.   plush   lips   pursed   as   she   considered   the   man,   silent   as   his   large   mass   prowled   across   the   room. 

     manicured   nails   tapped   a   silent   rhythm   against   the   plush   fabric   of   her   chair   as   she   considered   her   options.   truthfully,   there   was   little   the   man   could   do   to   hold   her   here   against   her   wishes,   yet   her   curiosity   silenced   any   thought   of   escape.   she'd   heard   the   stories,   well   acquainted   with   the   underworld   as   she   was,   &&   much   like   a   cat,   curiosity   led   her   down   a   dangerous   path.   molten   amber   glinted   with   amusement   as   that   piercing   gaze   turned   toward   her   petite   form,   painted   flesh   curled   into   a   teasing   smile   as   she   radiated   innocence.

  be ready to talk by the time i get to you. @goldenfists

     ❝   talking   is   not   the   problem,   darling.   i   can   talk   ad   nauseam,   but   i   doubt   that   is   why   i'm   here.   so   why   don't   you   ask   me   nicely   ??   i   might   be   able   to   talk   about   whatever   you   wish   if   you   do.   ❞   hyeon   leaned   forward,   body   lax   as   she   invaded   the   other's   space,   an   elegant   brow   raised   in   challenge.

DA Veilguard Prompts || accepting

[eritvita]

@petitsdieu

It's his first tour of that prophesized collaboration with the famed Hara of the Golden Light, and Roland's own band of his rag-tag group of the Rolling Stones aesthetic, and his is surprisingly nervous.

A glitter-sprinkled God of the Stage, an acolyte of the Theater, that trouncing Icon of beautific masculinity to wail and flaunt and to grind onstage a'fore shrieking fans, microphone stands and his sacred guitar held betwixt, he lounges in his hotel room, plucking away at chords both benign and terribly important: his clothes immaculate and held upon their hangers by the bathroom door, Roland borne onto his sweatpants and ratty sleepshirt with his hair loose and freshly combed, streaming past his shoulders.

A knock upon his door alerts him 'way from his sanctified headspace, and his is riddled with jitters; it plucks haphazardly upon his strings in a discordant sound, and he settles the acoustic down, and answers his door.

"Hara!" greets he boisterously, all winning teeth and freshly-scrubbed skin. "Merry evening to thee! Come in," welcomes he, offering her his space with a flourish of opened Palm.

[windsfavored]

old  modernverse  was  ren  becoming  a  streamer  as  an  allegory  for  followers  of  a  social  media  personality  being  akin  to  followers  of  a  god  —  with  a  deconstruction  of  both  parasocial  relationships  and  relying  on  the  attention  of  anonymous  strangers  to  fulfill  one's  need  for  validation.  (  even  at  the  cost  of  personal  comfort,  privacy  and  reducing  oneself  to  a  product.  )

new  modernverse  is  just  ❝  mom  didn't  love  me  so  i  invested  in  bitcoin  ❞  with  a  side  of  that  awkward  moment  when  the  criminals  you  agree  to  work  for  turn  out  to  actually  be  criminals  doing  criminal  things  and  faking  your  own  death  is  easier  than  handing  in  a  resignation  notice.

[idolbound]

Modern Verse Timeline

1967:

Meredith is born in London, England, to Bernard and Maighread Stannard, 7 years after her older sister Amelia.

1972:

The Stannard family is murdered by one of Amelia's school teachers. He fostered a relationship with the vulnerable 12 year old Amelia by manipulating her into believing he could be trusted; he gained access to the home by asking her to let him in. During this incident, their next door neighbour, Officer Wentworth Kell heard the disturbance and entered the Stannard residence. Unfortunately, he was too late to save Amelia (who had tried to stop the assailant), but he was able to apprehend the man before he found Meredith. Subsequently, after making a call to the police and handling the aftermath, wee Meredith refused to leave Wentworth's side; with no other family on record, he decided to pursue the adoption process, officially becoming her adoptive father only weeks after the murders.

1973-1985:

For the next 12 years, young Meredith harbors the trauma of what she witnessed as a girl. Wentworth does his best to raise her to be well-adjusted, given the circumstances. He gets her involved in extracurricular activities like rugby (which, women's clubs were just beginning to form at this time in the U.K.), and by the time she's ready to take her final exams at high school, she had already decided to pursue a military career much like Wentworth did before 'retiring' into policing.

1986:

However, in this time frame, Wentworth's years-long symptoms of forgetfulness and cognitive impairment (which had led to his early retirement from policing) ramp up quite quickly, and he becomes diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Meredith manages to finish school and graduate with high grades, but she does not yet pursue her enlistment in order to take care of her adoptive father.

1987:

Wentworth eventually passes a year later; fortunately, with changes in U.K. police legislation, officers both active and retired who passed away could leave their pensions to their surviving loved ones. As a young 20 year old with no family left in her life, she enlists with the British Armed Forces, beginning her military career with the intention to rise through the ranks, despite being at a disadvantage in such a male-dominated field.

1990-1991:

With rising tensions abroad, Meredith is deployed in one of the first units to have women in active combat roles, seeing live combat in the Gulf War.

1995:

After 2 consecutive terms, Meredith retires from the military, deciding to take up a career in law enforcement in London like Wentworth did. She starts off as a beat cop but desires to become a detective eventually.

2002:

After 30 years, the Stannard Family killer is released on 'good' behaviour; it makes the news, and it sends Meredith spiraling. She believes there had to have been corruption behind bars that led to a deal being made. This eventually leads her to being put on "leave" from active duty, but in the meantime, she decides to quit the police force, sell Wentworth's house, and moves to Scotland. She does this in order to pursue a career in Corrections, seeking to climb the career ladder to one day become the Prison Warden of Kirkwall Penitentiary, with the intention of both implementing strict regulatory policies and harsh punishments within the prison, as well as using her access to the judicial system in order to keep tabs on the status of her family's killer. She holds this desire because she wishes that no one else should experience seeing their loved ones' murderers/rapists/etc. be set free on "good" behaviour. She is a staunch believer in corporal punishment.

2004:

After a couple years as a corrections officer, the board sends Meredith along with a few others to attend a Prison Security conference in New York City, USA. It is the first time she has left the U.K., and their hotel rooms and meals are all paid for through their work, allowing her to learn American methods and to socialize with others there. However, on the first night, Meredith decides to go out to a local club and it is here that she first meets Amelia Comstock ( @sanctamater ). They two very much hit it off and return to Meredith's hotel room to hook up. It goes so well that they call each other the next day and decide, after the conference concludes, to go out to dinner, and spend the night together again, as well as Sunday, ordering in room service for all their meals, having gratuitous sex in between. Meredith's flight leaves the following Monday night, but within the week, they are calling each other, and desire to see one another again. This continues for weeks into months, with Amelia being able to easily afford the time and trips to visit Meredith. In the time in between visits, Meredith falls into an old habit, getting with a friend with benefits (Constable Anne S. Jackson, a police colleague of Meredith's and resident corrupt cop), only to realize she has deep feelings for Amelia, and that even this casual endeavor did nothing for her, deciding that she wants to make it work with Amelia, whatever it may look like as a distanced couple.

2008:

4 years into their relationship of going back and forth (including a time when Amelia and her young daughter Liz came to live in Kirkwall on her own for a few months to be near Meredith), Amelia prompts a streak of jealousy which finally pushes Meredith to purchase a ring and propose, (pushing past her repressed Catholic ideology). Amelia accepts.

2009:

A year later in the winter time, Meredith and Amelia legally enter a Civil Partnership in Scotland, as gay marriage did not become legal until 2014. For them, it was not so much about the law as it was the symbolism of recognizing their relationship as legally binding. In this time, Amelia expresses the desire to have another child, and they agree to have children through IVF using donor sperm and fertilized eggs from Meredith, implanted in Amelia to be the childbearing parent. The timing of this process works well as it just became legal for lesbian couples to get access to IVF treatments via the NHS by November of '09.

2011:

By early 2011, Meredith and Amelia give birth to fraternal twin daughters. Margaret Isobel Stannard and Johanna Siobhan Stannard are born, healthy and well. Meredith takes maternity leave for the first year of her daughters' lives. When she returns to work, she receives a promotion to Prison Warden, invoking new responsibilities at the Penitentiary and a much bigger paycheque. She runs the prison much like the military, following strict regulations and laws, and cracking down on contraband and illicit dealings within its walls. The prison soon earns the nickname The Gallows, as often, many prisoners feel that their time there is so horrific and cruel, that they would rather take their own lives rather than continue to live under the same conditions for the rest of their sentences. This repeated problem begins to arouse the interest of a few detectives back at the Scotland Yard who knew Meredith when she was an officer, wondering if they have a case to investigate for cruel and unjust punishment. The Penitentiary goes under a few inquiries and investigations with Meredith at the helm, but each time they try to find evidence of her practices (e.g., violent interrogations, undue punishments for bad behaviour, corruption at the administrative level, etc.), they seem to come up shorthanded with nothing really to persecute her without the case being thrown out by the judge.

2015:

It is at this time that Meredith and Amelia begin the process of moving to the United States permanently. It is not a decision that comes easily, but one Meredith is willing to do now that Maggie and Anna are nearing school age, and she herself has saved up a lot of funds. Throughout the year, Amelia has most of their things sent stateside, and starts adjusting the twins to attend school by September in the U.S. With this in mind, Meredith tenders her resignation to complete by the end of the year, December 31st. In the meanwhile, Meredith plans to to visit Amelia, Liz, Maggie, and Anna during holidays. However, news breaks that a local London family has been murdered, and while full case details are not provided to the general public, Meredith's friend Anne feeds her information because the killer appears to have the same M.O. as the man who killed the Stannard family (grooming one of the teenagers, gaining access, killing all of them using that trust). This sets Meredith on an spiral once again, fueling an unhealthy obsession trying to link her family's killer to the case. With Anne, they begin to look through the details and piece it together in their off duty time. At this time, Meredith isn't sleeping well, and she picks up her old cocaine habit out of stress. She is distracted and doing poorly at work. Her mind is obsessed with this new case. She also ends up using the resources available to her as the Warden to get a most recent known location of the man that killed her family through the parole system, and with the acquired insider details from Anne, gets confirmation that police suspect it is the same killer responsible for both families' deaths. In the interim, she visits Amelia and the children for American Thanksgiving, but it is noticeable that something isn't quite right with her. Amelia does not say anything, and Meredith returns to Kirkwall after a 5 day trip. It is in this time, that she creates a meticulous plan of operation for premeditated murder; she intends to go to London in advance to lure the man into a false sense of safety to then kill him in time to leave the country on her already-booked one-way flight to the United States. However, after locating the man and instigating a fake flirtation at a local pub to convince him to take her home, Meredith's confidence wavers; it ends up going a lot messier than she’d planned - both out of a revenge-filled rage and being high on a lot of cocaine. She does her best to clean and remove any trace of blood, and in her panic calls Anne to help her. Together, they end up ditching the weighted body in the river before Anne drives Meredith straight to Heathrow to board her scheduled flight In this time, however, she has had her phone turned off for the past 72 hours, leaving Amelia to be calling and texting with no answer. She calls to put out a wellness check on Meredith at their home in Kirkwall. However, when Meredith lands stateside on New Year's Eve, she turns on her phone and receives all these messages, but does not answer them. Instead, she takes the next cab to their NYC brownstone home, finally meeting an exasperated Amelia, asking to put their daughters to bed because they need to talk. Much of the conversation is hushed, spoken out on the balcony in the snow. Immediately, Amelia asks who knows, and Meredith confides that her old friend Anne is in on it. Creatively, Amelia plans a strong alibi, provided that Anne will cover her -- she suggests that Meredith was having a 3-day long affair with Anne, for old time's sake before moving away to the US permanently. They get Anne to agree to testify to that story, but still invest in hiring a powerful lawyer to handle the eventual case. Meredith ends up being cleared as a potential suspect as there isn't enough evidence to convict, and her alibi with Anne is firm, given their past relationship.

2016 to Present:

After settling in New York, Meredith and Amelia focus on raising their daughters together, while maintaining their long-term relationship. When gay marriage becomes legal in the U.S., they officially get 'married', and both women hold dual US/UK citizenships. While with Amelia's money, they do not have to work, but Meredith chooses to, pursuing her corrections career in an American setting, getting into the management of a high security prison. Amelia eventually expresses interest in pursuing politics and Meredith quits to support her wife.

Some headcanons of note:

As a young girl, Wentworth brings Meredith into the Catholic church with him (especially as her mother Maighread was an Irish Catholic as well) - which, of course, at the time in England, still had a bit of lingering anti-Catholic sentiments in its own context as well as in the context of 'The Troubles' in Northern Ireland. However, this had Wentworth instilling a strong sense of faith in Meredith at a young, impressionable age, which she still very much carries with her to this day, going to church every Sunday.

In her teens, Meredith became well aware of her attraction to other girls. While her friends were busy being 'boy crazy' and dating, she had no interest. In this way, she used her faith as a cover (she was just a good Catholic, and would be saving herself for marriage as an adult). That said, she did have a very homoerotic relationship with a close friend that, unfortunately, never came to fruition and Meredith was preoccupied with Wentworth's declining health, and then enlisted in the military. Which, eventually, she met another lesbian who wasn't exactly out when in the military (especially since the U.K. military had anti-homosexuality laws in place for its army until 2000), but had a first relationship with this woman when they were off duty and keeping it a secret for the many months they were together.

Meredith has dealt with a lot of repression and Catholic guilt about her sexuality, but given that she has no family or ties to anyone important, she also has no one to judge what she does behind closed doors, eventually coming to accept herself but keeping her personal life extremely private.

With the money she inherited from Wentworth's account and his pension, along with her own income, Meredith was able to sell the house and put a payment down on a secluded home in the rural area outside of Kirkwall, commuting to work as the Prison Warden. She prefers to drive a 4 door Mercedes-Benz sedan with tinted windows and drives it standard/manual.

Meredith's house is a fair size, with dark colour themes and wood furniture and hardwood flooring, with marble tiles in bathrooms and the kitchen. She collects classic literature and history texts, and spends much of her time in her office when she is not working. There are lots of trees around her property, and the house is almost a quarter mile back from the road.

Meredith boards her grey mare at a local stable and rides her a few times a week. She once thought of competing in hunter-jumper events, but with previous injuries and an ageing body, she prefers to go for solo trail rides for a couple hours on weekends, and otherwise working her horse to keep her in shape during the week.

Meredith has PTSD from both her childhood trauma as well as her stint in the military; she is not in therapy (and she should be).

Meredith is also addicted to cocaine, using frequently throughout the workday when stressed and dealing with a lot of problems. (She can often be found doing a line off the counter in her personal office bathroom). This is mainly the cause of her erratic behaviour as of late, though stress and paranoia are additional factors.

She keeps a childhood picture of herself and her sister Amelia on her desk; it is one of her most prized possessions.

Cullen is her second-in-command at work, but they also have a more personal relationship outside of it (well it started when she asked for his help outside of work hours and then they've become weirdly friends but also he's like a pseudo-son and she invites him along to events sometimes).

Orsino is a social worker with the NHS who stands to help and represent the prisoners and is a constant thorn in Meredith's side.

Meredith tends to dress in classy business wear, preferring pantsuits and jackets with heels most days, though sometimes a blouse and pencil skirt. She seldom wears jeans or casual clothing outside of the house.

[qverdia]

@4lexnilsen said, ❛ i know your appetite is a little off, so i ordered in a whole ton of options. just try a little bit of something, please? for me? ❜

alex's words manage to break through the fog in her brain for a moment . abilene blinked rapidly before her eyes shifted over to him standing in the doorway with two bags overflowing with food . her dark brows furrowed and she pushed herself to a seated position on the hospital bed .

❛ what ? ❜ her voice was quiet , a bit hoarse , and she tried to clear her throat . she really wasn't hungry , and the thought of food had her stomach churning . when the bags were placed on the end of the bed and abilene saw just how much food was stuffed into each bag she looked back up to alex with a frown .

❛ this is so much . . . ❜ her gaze moved to one of the small tables where a small brown wallet sat and she reached for it . ❛ i i'll pay you back , just give me . . . give me a second . . . ❜ she was a bit lightheaded , and the fog she had been in for a day or so now threatened to roll back in .

[estarion]

added to the list of bullshit things he must accomplish this week:

teach regulus how to read

no more caffeine for regulus

lobotomy for regulus

[prvtocol]

Rook Island Visit, ft. Ayam commission by @badtrigger

[xamassed]

⟬ @shrapnelsong / s.c ⟭

He had placed himself on the floor, legs folded and fingers giving the smallest but fondest scratches to the space between Cinnabun's ears. "Do rabbits need friends, or are they usually good on their own?" He may or may not have considered what it might be like if they had two rabbits.

[persefleur]

»   Some   overpriced   restaurant   in   Manhattan,   New   York   City.

DARK   BROWS   KNOT   BRIEFLY,   her   ring-adorned   fingers   tracing   slow,   deliberate   circles   against   the   condensation   on   her   glass.   “Theo, ”   Persie   begins,   her   voice   steady   but   edged   with   a   trace   of   vulnerability,   “you   know   I’m   new   to   this.”   It’s   not   quite   an   excuse,   more   of   an   admission,   the   kind   that   lingers   uncomfortably   in   the   air.

A   soft   sigh   parts   her   lips   as   she   shifts   in   her   chair,   her   posture   deceptively   relaxed   despite   the   tension   coiled   beneath.   Her   gaze   locks   onto   @mcntra,   unwavering.   “You   need   arms,   and   I   can   be   your   person.”   The   corners   of   her   mouth   curve   slightly,   a   ghost   of   a   smile,   though   her   tone   remains   firm.   “You   know   you’d   never   get   a   deal   like   this   again.   Consider   it…   a   grand   opening   special.”

The   words   hang   between   them   like   a   challenge,   her   confidence   a   thin   veneer   over   the   calculated   risk   she’s   just   laid   bare..

[mage-of-black-robes]

a few cocotte ribbons for his hair

send my muse an outfit piece and they'll have to wear it | @runyou-clever-boy

The mage hummed contemplatively. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing he could be forced to wear, even if it did look a bit childish. The scarlet hue of the ribbons reminded him fondly of his old red robes, and consequently of the time before he ‘fell’ to the temptation of dark magic. Moments of levity with his friends in the midst of various adventures echoed in the back of his mind.

“I’ve never worn these before,” he admitted, “but I bet that I can make them work. Red goes well with silver, after all.” He smirked and summoned a couple of floating mirrors to help him see what was doing before setting about braiding the dainty ribbons into his hair. When he was done, he wound up with a small braid on either side of his head, both with delicate scarlet woven into them. They were conjoined at the back of his skull with a bow, then fused into one long plait that fell down his back, which was tied off with another small bow. The rest of his moonbright locks were left to flow freely behind the intricate display. Satisfied with his work, Raistlin banished the mirrors and turned to face the other. “Well? Have I lived up to your expectations, or do you have more frills to challenge me with?”

[recursiveimpulse]

"you look hungry." ( for vamp!viktor <333 you didn't ask for this but MWAH. )

baby i am ALWAYS asking for asks. especially from you. random asks: accepting! always!

Hungry didn't cover it. Viktor knew how he looked. Rake-thin and exhausted, dark circles under his eyes that had been there long before he ever passed from living to dead. Usually when women told him he 'looked hungry', they were old and kind and stern, the kind of woman who if fortune had allowed it would have bundled him into her handbag and carried him home to feed him an entire pot of soup. They didn't know what he was. They simply saw him as a young thing in need of rescuing.

This stranger wasn't old. She was probably only thirty, thirty-five at the latest. She didn't look particularly kind, either, nor did she look stern. If anything, she looked--

Viktor's fangs lengthened in his mouth quite suddenly. He wasn't the hungry one here: it was her. He could smell it on her, a kind of starvation that went beyond the physical: sweat and nicotine and adrenaline, like she'd just come off a bender but she'd been on that bender for years. He didn't know how he knew it. The same way dogs knew things, he supposed. A human's sense of smell was just so weak.

His fangs were still hidden behind his lips, but he knew he had to be careful not to smile. To speak but barely move his mouth in doing so. Did she suspect what he was? Did she see his hunger just as plainly as he saw hers?

"Do I?" Viktor had slowed, stopped. Turned to her like he'd been pulled in by a string. What was he doing? He wasn't quite smiling, but his expression was open; interested. "How can you tell?"

[crosaidi]

“   You never think that the last time is the last time. You think there will be more. You think that you will have forever, but you don’t. ” @oathfcrged / a sanctuary for every sentiment

He’s  been  —— fortunate.  Life  hasn’t  exactly  handed  him  any  favors,  and  he’s  faced  plenty  of  problems,  but  he  hasn’t  lost.  Not  really.  Not  truly.  It’s  not  that  he  doesn’t  have  a  grasp  on  it  — he  deals  with  it  regularly  with  what  he  does  for  a  living,  and  is  well  acquainted  — but  it’s  not  personal,  and  so  maybe  he’s  been  lucky.  "  Thinkin’  every  time’s  the  last  time  would  drive  you  mad,  "  he  says,  voice  soft,  and  leans  in  to  kiss  him,  and  it’s  soft.  

The  cat  that  hangs  around  the  porch  — the  cat,  not  his  cat  and  certainly  not  his  pet,  even  though  he  leaves  it  food  and  water  and  it  has  a  little  bed  and  house  and  sleeps  inside  — winds  around  their  legs  from  where  they’re  seated  on  the  porch,  and  he  absently  scratches  it.  The  sun’s  winding  low,  and  they’ve  made  good  progress  today;  he’s  got  a  few  beers  on  the  porch.  

But  the  conversation  turned  a  little  quiet,  a  little  introspective,  and  he  listens.  He’s  good  at  it,  really,  letting  silence  fall  comfortably  where  it  needs  to  be  and  not  pushing  it.  "  But  no,  we  don’t  got  forever.  Hell,  sometimes  I’m  guilty  of  thinkin’  it.  Always  things  that  are  easier  to  do  tomorrow,  things  t’say  that  can  wait.  "  He  sighs,  taking  a  swallow.  "  But.  All  th’more  reason  to  make  of  it  what  you  can  while  y’can.  "    

[estarion]

[  ALMOST KISS  ]  *  your muse leans closer to my muse almost like they’re trying to initiate a kiss, only to pull away in the last second. (modern)

They’re only friends. It’s been made abundantly clear on both sides. That doesn't stop Orihime’s babypink Converse from smudging the lines (if sliding into his trousered lap in a tennis skirt to pout about her misfortune could be called merely ‘smudging’). Doesn’t keep him from redrawing them a bit thinner, a bit more reluctantly, than before.

A friend can hold his friend’s waist for support. A friend can thread fingers through the hair of his friend, brush a rebellious ginger strand from her cheek, tuck it smoothly behind her ear. He can lean in and smirk and hold her gaze and remember the fading marks in between them at just the right time. As a friend.

“Sorry. That loose bit was driving me mad.” He presses back into leather recliner and sighs, false relief over the renewed state of her hair. Yet actual contentment that he did it, that she let him, that her warm fingers curl against his nape in reply. But he cannot be so easy. Refuses to be, in fact. Lips twist into a not-quite-pleased shape; he owes her an eyeroll, a bent brow, a grumble of unhappiness. “Continue, please.” He rocks the chair a little, cap-toe of his left burgundy oxford gently riding the coffee table’s edge. His empty hand grasps the armrest; the palm at her waist remains in place—for now. What he owes comes entwined next, eyes flicking softly ceilingward: “Your story about the most recent ‘worst date ever’…”

[byanyan]

@grimesucker sent 🤳 + 5 for:

ㅤbyan's family (biological, adopted, & found); feat. sol, the boyfriend (@lee-sol); lena, the older sister (@chronal-anomaly); ardaka, the parental sibling figure (@apexulansis); kit, the (sort of but not technically) younger sister (@florafound); garrett, the vaguely guardian-esque figure (@gnarledbite); & dox, the mom (@grimesucker)

[persefleur]

»   Mexico   City,   Mexico

A   SMIRK   CURLS   ACROSS   HER   LIPS   as   Persie   gently   cups  @ukusmesti  face,   her   fingers   light   against   the   bruised   skin.   “You   know,”   she   murmurs,   her   voice   laced   with   warmth   despite   the   reprimand,   “you   don’t   have   to   beat   up   everyone   you   meet.”

She   dips   the   rag   into   the   bowl   of   water,   wringing   it   out   with   care   before   returning   to   dab   at   the   other   woman’s   face.   The   tension   in   the   room   feels   like   a   thread   pulled   taut,   fragile   but   unbroken.   Persie’s   gaze   flickers,   betraying   a   moment’s   hesitation   as   her   eyes   linger   briefly   on   Ivana’s   lips   before   darting   back   up.

A   soft   gulp   escapes   her,   her   steady   hands   faltering   for   only   a   heartbeat.   “I   just   want   you   to   be   okay,”   she   admits,   her   tone   quieter   now,   layered   with   something   deeper.   She sits with  an   intensity   neither   is   quite   ready   to   address.