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Yes, as far as reactions went, this one was sufficient. Sure, it resulted in unrequited dalliance, but it stirred something and it was a something that had potential… Maybe. “I suppose we could… If I remotely wanted to, which I don’t.” Elra frowned an exaggerated thing, but the sentiment...

"Yes, you did get me in the bed tonight. Wanna get a medal for that, Elra?" Elra flipped to her side, elbow crushing a pillow to prop her head up with an angled arm, and she pursed her lips. Slender fingers through her long sunny sandy hair, her brain spun tiredly with thought: was this metal...

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Bump, I have the bandwidth for another story. Open to hearing about plots!

“How do you even know it’s crazy,” Phaedre replied. “Are you suddenly an expert on human norms?” “This may come as a surprise… but Talron are not idiots.” Elra pinched the headache in her temples with a hand. Social terra norm or not, they needed Chance to house them. By any means necessary…...

Paint. Elra lifted her palm, the dirtier one, the one that had done the "deed", and examined it. Yes, paint. Paint was a good cover, she could go with pai- "No, it's blood." Elra threw wide eyes at her accomplice. Sure, the Talron wasn't a "pro" when it came to human interaction, but Elra...

Highjacked. The word jumped out, in uppercase and bold print, and it burrowed into her brain while Elra did her analysis of this stupid terra boy. The ridiculous swoop of cigarette-ash hair above his ear. Aren had liked to wrap it around her finger. The quarter-sized port wine birthmark on his...

"Don't I?" The fiendish shape Phaedre's lips took had Elra recalibrating her deduction, "I am here, so logic dictates I must have." Elra fell into step with Phaedre and offered a glazed look in reply. Okay, so, it was established by now that the event had not been a lie. Her brazen 'please' was...

Elra was quite familiar with this sentiment - self-classified as 'world-ending wrath' - however having it directed at a simple girl was odd. And yet, there it was. A wild blue fire raged in her blood. It twisted her fingers into Phaedre’s rough coat fabric, rattled her bones, ground her teeth...

A hot cherry torrent seeped over her weapon and fingers, and it was beautiful. It really was, when it came out like this. The gushing deep richness of it, life draining from a face whitening, mouth gasping. It was different when it was this amount of it. It was meaningful, sacred. Elra knew his...

"It's not the usual kind of wrong."' The wad of carbs in Elra's mouth was dry, gummy, tasted like plastic packaging and it took massive effort to swallow down. Or maybe it was the nerves, cinching her esophagus. She could hear and even feel the swell and fall of breath from every one in the...

Distant conversation gargled, mouthwash in the swishing swirling sounds of city noises, but Elra knew Pitch (beefy guard by the front door) was talking to Enforcers. There was a conceited metal stamping which portrayed authority. A no-bullshit tone. Also, the combative garble which ripped from...

Despite the high cost of living, it remains popular.

What was Elra even doing here, entertaining this conversation...? An expression that could only be characterized as shrewd fixed upon her face, directed at the prattling of this Phaedre character, who was hilariously insistent that she wasn't weird. But, perhaps she was right. Maybe Elra's...

The girl’s mouth rearranged into a most dastardly thing, not that Elra was paying any attention to her lips... Maniacal looked good on her. “What, don’t like the title? Should have thought of that before you named yourselves gods, then. That did sort of create the impression that you enjoyed...

Blood, pain, terror. Death. A corner of Elra's mouth twitched. In amusement, a bit, but more so a grimace at Phaedre's connotation that the Talron soldiers had failed in their latest battle. Slaughtered, the whole of them. Flashes of the last frontier ripped through her brain and she blinked a...

So, Phaedre wasn’t Talron. After her absurd tirade regarding mothers raising their own kits, Elra had assumed this was the case, but there was still the hope. Hope that perhaps it had been a ruse, part of the ‘disguise’. Though, Phaedre appeared quite comfortable in her terra flesh… but the...

“Yes, your mother. Glad to see you after all those years, Elra, but I didn’t raise you to be like this. Manners, anyone?” Elra glanced over her shoulder at the strange girl, an eyebrow curved up. Her words said one thing, but her tone said another - and Aren Gold's wisdom with this terra manner...

There was crick in her jaw that didn’t seem to want to be corrected. Elra held her chin in her hand and pulled it around a bit, but chomping down still felt like an overbite, or side bite… disaligned, awkward. It’d probably solve itself, but if it didn’t, well… that was unfortunate. But at least...

Elra was… what did the Terras call it? Ah yes, she was ‘fucked’. She’d determined in her three full moons of sharing a Terra brain that there were multiple ways in which one could be ‘fucked’. Through many firsthand accounts, she’d come to recognize this as one of less desirable ways. But...