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Don't touch me. Vicmira wanted to voice that thought desperately, though she also knew that a Gahnaisto's candidate wouldn't ever complain about being touched, of all things. Not really, at any rate. Self-respect was a rare commodity among his precious roses, and so she did what she expected one...

As it turned out, Lady Snowflake could smell it. Vicmira almost wanted to say something snide - perhaps something about pretty little goddess noses not being used to such crude smells - but curiosity won over pettiness this time around, and she crouched right next to Kalathra in an attempt to...

More words, more misdirections, more excuses. Vicmira wasn't certain what she had expected from asking such a question - perhaps a glimpse into the goddess's mind? - but Kalathra remained ever guarded, like a flower that had closed to shield itself from winter. No, not from winter. She IS the...

Entertainment. Right. That was what this was, rather than an immense pain in her ass. Good to know! Vicmira tried to keep that thought close to her heart while figuring out what kind of expression she was even supposed to make. Was it happy? Hopeful? Something in between? Both of those would...

Property dispute. That was certainly one way to call it, though Vicmira herself would have gone for something like 'murder' instead. All of a sudden, the blonde felt violently ill. Her heart was beating fast in her chest; her palms were covered with a thin sheet of sweat. She just... couldn't...

The story didn't really mean anything. It had only slipped past her lips because it was true, and Vicmira shared it out of a misplaced desire to say something, perhaps in an attempt to get a little bit closer to the river goddess. Wasn't that something that people just did? And maybe that was...

It wasn't exactly hard to read Kalathra's expression. What the goddess was thinking likely amounted to some variation of 'go to hell,' and, being her usual charming self, Vicmira found that supremely satisfying. Yes, she thought, give me some of that delicious anger, snowflake. Show me just how...

Hm. Was it just her, or did the response seem... a bit more passionate than it had any right to be? If it was just a theoretical debate, divorced from any real ramifications. A mere way to pass the time. It never really was, though; Vicmira knew better than most people that the personal had a...

It never is simple, is it? Because that would have been far too beautiful, and Vicmira had learned long ago that she couldn't have beautiful things in her life. Even asking Kalathra such a question - as if it could actually be answered! - was a fool's errand, but this wasn't about uncovering the...

Necessity, then? Death or godhood? That might have softened Vicmira's heart somewhat - and it likely would have - had she not decided to hate Kalathra already. It didn't really matter what the woman had been once, the blonde told herself. The butterfly didn't remember its days as a caterpillar...

A favor. A favor, owed to a goddess. That definitely should have unnerved her much more than it had, though, to be fair, Vicmira didn't think that worrying over a promise that she had no intention of keeping was a productive use of her time. What? Honor was a nice thing to have, but only when...

Not in the mortal world anymore? That remark got Vicmira to wonder, however briefly, just how long it had been since the goddess's humanity had been severed from her. A hundred years? A thousand? Because nobody who knew what life down there really looked like thought that being this transparent...

The red-headed goddess's condemnation wasn't really spoken, though it also wasn't subtle. Not in the slightest. Vicmira could sense it more than she could hear it - her ear ever so finely attuned to pick up on the words behind the words - but that hardly lessened the impact. A slap was still a...

Vicmira was not one for pretty dresses. She was... not one for most things, if she were to be entirely honest with herself. Maybe she was broken; maybe the rest of the world was. Either way, nothing had felt quite right for a while now. But, as she caressed the robe Uwila had brought her...

Not limbs, but mind. No telling, but doing. That made about as much sense as it didn't, which, strangely enough, made it all the more credible in Cassie's mind. The more bullshit something was, the greater the awesomeness potential! Such was the truth of this universe. "So," she tilted her head...

Calliope had few illusions regarding her future husband. That she could have done much worse than Prince Nereus was a solace of sorts, but it still changed little about the fact that, as far as spouses went, he just wasn’t much of a winner. He looked average; his conversation skills were...

"Did you just question your superior officer?" Tess's voice cracked like a whip, in that signature, very recognizable 'you just fucked up' kinda way. Cassandra could feel the threat on the tip of her counterpart's tongue, just like she could hear the words behind the words, and, for a terrible...

It had started as an idea. Like with most of those, Cassandra Orologa had first grasped it in her mind; then turned around, to look at it from all the angles; and, finally, spun a plan out of it, in the same way someone else might spin a thread out of yarn. The plan was also batshit crazy. All...

The City wasn't asleep. In truth, it never quite slept; not with all the lights, all the noise, and all the distractions, designed to make you want to go on, on and on, till you went broke or till you broke. Same difference, isn't it? thought one Ariane Yeong, before reaching into the depths of...