she shouldn’t laugh. truly, it had to be equally frustrating for both parties to share the same body. to know that even a momentary slip into unconsciousness could be enough to slam the door shut — splinters of wood metaphorically wedged between the hinges — denying the other the chance to see the world through their own eyes again. it’s almost funny, in a way. the way spite outlines the situation in clipped, matter-of-fact sentences, neither hostile nor warm, when he offhandedly mentions how he had stopped lucanis from coming back.
it shouldn’t be humorous. she huffs out a soundless chuckle, already imagining the inevitable argument that might unfold later. she silently reminds herself to assure her crow companion that, in truth, spite had been more than helpful on this mission.
... as difficult as that might be to believe.
but whether or not she could actually convince lucanis of that, she’d leave for another time — preferably once they weren’t trudging through tunnels soaked in congealed air, thick with rot & sewage. her freckled nose wrinkles ever so slightly, face pinching in disgust, safe in the knowledge that no one could see her express such distaste without judgment.
“ reasonable. good call. ” she thoughtfully remarks on spite’s decision. amatista isn’t sure whether she should praise him for having the foresight not to unleash a half-conscious man back into control, one who would likely trip over his own feet in the dark. she doesn’t really mind spite having control — not so long as lucanis wasn’t actively struggling for dominance. still, this moment felt different than those passive stretches in the lighthouse, where lucanis surrendered to sleep rather than vanished altogether. a dellamorte heir making such a critical mistake mid-mission … it didn’t sit right with her.
“ it’s a good thing he has you, ” she hums, elongated canines catching on her bottom lip as she speaks, voice lilting with a soft pout. “ i think he’s a bit too heavy for me to carry as dead weight. & it wouldn’t reflect well on the dellamorte name if he made a mistake that cost him his life. ”
a mistake anyone could make, really. one that would’ve gotten a lesser crow killed outright. “ you can stay, ” she concedes with a soft sigh, “ just don’t bicker with him too much when he wakes. it'd be nice if the two of you could agree on something. ”
whether or not spite actually relinquished control when lucanis resurfaced was a matter she left to them. she had her limits, & unless the situation was dire, she had no desire to step between them. wouldn’t it be ideal if they could find a way to coexist ? save the rest of the party the headache of working around spite’s presence. her gloved hand rises, heel pressing to her temple as if to physically stave off the pounding headache threatening to build — not from spite’s bartering, but from the mental image of the report she’d inevitably owe viago later.
perhaps she’d conveniently leave out the part where lucanis had gotten himself knocked out cold.
her attention snaps back to present company, lips twitching into the faintest curve of a smile as her hand falls to her side. she’s dazed, more from the cocktail of lingering magic & the acrid stench of the sewer than anything else. her head tilts slightly, lilac eyes narrowing as she considers his offer with the measured patience of someone who already knew the answer she’d give.
her legs slog through the thick water with effort, the resistance like dragging iron through quicksand rather than simply moving through shallow filth. she stops just short of standing beside him, glancing back down the tunnel her gaze lingers, curious despite herself, on the familiar curve of his wings — equal parts fascinated & quietly envious.
but now wasn’t the time for envy. she was a leader whether she liked it or not, she would try to be a good one.
“ your injuries are bad. you can fly yourself back, ” she says plainly. “ i’ll walk this time. ”
if neve were here, the detective might shoot her a look sharp enough to draw blood — have you lost your mind ? it would ask, blistering. “ i don’t think it’d help your condition to carry my weight, ” she tacks on quickly, adjusting the clingy fabric of her glove. it sticks to her skin, soaked through & uncomfortable. the thought of climbing back to the surface like this makes her skin crawl. she desperately needs a bath after this.
“ if something goes wrong, ” she sighs, speaking dryly, “ lucanis can blame me for letting you out of my sight. ”
her hand settles at her hip as she glances over at him. he must be itching to move — he always seemed like he was on edge, ready to strike or vanish or run. not unlike herself. standing still never sat well with her. her fingers always had to be doing something, her mind always somewhere else. she’d blame viago for that — his hyper-awareness verged on mania, & she'd simply adapted to survive beside it.
“ you can tell lucanis not to worry about me when he wakes up, ” her voice softens with amusement as she regards spite, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the smile she offers. “ wouldn’t be the first time i ingested poison. ”
