09-09-2020, 11:24 PM
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TYPHOON
NECRO MAMBAS
NECRO MAMBAS
[div style="width: px; font-family: GEORGIA; color: #422426; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"][align=center]ARE YOU GOOD WITH CHAOS ?!
Rosemary hardly considered sneaking glances at Aphra tailing the cat. The ocelot’s home burned down! She lost her private sanctuary, so her frequenting the Capricorn Tavern fit. Despite the lively scene, however, Rosemary kept to water and healthy snacks. Only rarely did one or two of her eyes drift to her target—otherwise, her nose stayed buried in a book.
The ocelot left the tavern a few minutes after Aphra, observing Aphra’s state after two others noticed the poor cat’s plight. Rosemary’s usual impassive and emotionally muted expression gave nothing away. That was useful. Michael’s outspoken observation stirred all those morally questionable do-goody feelings like pride in her craft.
Satisfaction warmed her belly, and thoughts on further instructions began rolling. As much as she wanted to, however, she restrained herself. Too much mental manipulation of a fellow pirate, even a disliked one, would draw unnecessary attention. Besides, there was a small chance, even if it was slim, that Aphra would indirectly learn the proper lesson here.
Rosemary, obviously, didn’t understand that deepening an abuser’s trauma never ended well. But her heart was in the right place, and that’s what mattered. Right?
“Aphra, do you need help going home?” Rosemary asked, voice soft. Compassion stirred in the witch’s heart—not for Aphra, but the two children under the cat’s care. She would rather see the white she-cat safely passed out on the floor rather than stumbling home drunk.
[/td][/tr][/table]The ocelot left the tavern a few minutes after Aphra, observing Aphra’s state after two others noticed the poor cat’s plight. Rosemary’s usual impassive and emotionally muted expression gave nothing away. That was useful. Michael’s outspoken observation stirred all those morally questionable do-goody feelings like pride in her craft.
Satisfaction warmed her belly, and thoughts on further instructions began rolling. As much as she wanted to, however, she restrained herself. Too much mental manipulation of a fellow pirate, even a disliked one, would draw unnecessary attention. Besides, there was a small chance, even if it was slim, that Aphra would indirectly learn the proper lesson here.
Rosemary, obviously, didn’t understand that deepening an abuser’s trauma never ended well. But her heart was in the right place, and that’s what mattered. Right?
“Aphra, do you need help going home?” Rosemary asked, voice soft. Compassion stirred in the witch’s heart—not for Aphra, but the two children under the cat’s care. She would rather see the white she-cat safely passed out on the floor rather than stumbling home drunk.
© MADI