[Little of A, tiny bit of B. She's not quite the battle maniac, but she takes some small amount of pride in her skill. After everything that Pulse threw at her, a few scrapes from flying bark are nothing.
Yeah, they're all weirdos down here. She watches him as he works, and when the cloth presses to her arm the only sign of a flinch is the minute tensing in her face that quickly fades. At least none of these need stitches. She hates those.]
Lightning. [A soft tilt of her head.] What's yours?
no subject
Yeah, they're all weirdos down here. She watches him as he works, and when the cloth presses to her arm the only sign of a flinch is the minute tensing in her face that quickly fades. At least none of these need stitches. She hates those.]
Lightning. [A soft tilt of her head.] What's yours?