This is an RP Blog for
Milly, from Path to Nowhere.
21+ (Minors DNI)
No Crossovers. OCs welcome.
OOC Info:
| 30+ | PST | RP Open |
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HoneyGlazedDancer is a Roleplay blog for Milly from Path to Nowhere.
This account is a sub-blog of @PandorasCage (multi-muse RPer) -- so if you get a follow from PandorasCage, that's me!
Milly's portrayal is fairly canon-based, but I welcome canon-divergence (since PTN can be challenging to navigate without that!) -- unfortunately for me, her timeline kind of crosses over with the stuff in CN so... I will try to avoid spoilers.
I welcome other canon characters and original characters, but would prefer to avoid crossovers for now!
Mature &dark themes will be present on this blog.
Milly's event features some dark shit, and so her RP may contain mentions to her history. I'll try to be cautious as a lot of these can be common triggers.
"#⸤ 🐝 ⸣ ⸻ 𐌌i𐐰𐐰ꟻ | cw" for common trigger warnings.
"#⸤ 🐝 ⸣ ⸻ 𐌌i𐐰𐐰ꟻ | nsft" for sexual content.
Blacklist these if you need to!
I'm 30+, PST, and post semi-regularly. (At least once a week)
I request everyone I RP with at least be 18+, and preferably 21+.
I haven't RPed on tumblr in a long time, so please be patient with me as I get used to it again! Tips are always welcome and appreciated. uvu
❁ | ❝ HA ... THIS 'SALLIE' SOUNDS LIKE A FUN GIRL, THEN. ❞ coquelic dismisses the 'shy' comment altogether, refusing to give it the dignity of acknowledgement. anyone who 'she sounds like', however, is likely the sort that she would take to. but that's an aside. she crosses her arms, fingers tapping her sleeve as milly speaks on.
'i'm okay with the dark' / 'but it's chief who gets me through it'
the mentor is beginning to suspect that the two of them are built along different fault lines, that there's some ontological misalignment here. in the garden, the girls she took under her wing were ones she recognized — splinters of her own reflection caught at odd angles, all shards from the same mirror. getting into their heads was effortless and teaching them was almost instinctive. they already spoke the same language; were broken in the same places.
but milly differs. her scars speak to a history that coquelic might understand, but there's no familiar silhouette looking back at her from them. milly isn't like her flowers.
something adjacent, perhaps. a visitor. a bee.
this approach will only loop them back to the beginning. either milly has missed the point, or she's grasped it and lacks the words to respond to it cohesively. maybe that talk about being alone in the dark was too oblique for this lesson.
❝ never mind the chief for a moment and we'll try that again. i'll ask directly this time. ❞ she uncrosses her arms, lifting one finger to the gold pendant at milly's throat. her nail meets the diamond-shaped gem with a soft 'clink'. ❝ do you, milly, love yourself ? not 'are you okay with being alone'. if you were chief, looking at you — would you love the person you see ? ❞
The more concise, succinct words finally drew Milly's attention, honed her thoughts and sharpened her mind for a fleeting moment of clarity. A slow and steady breath drew her back to the present, her gaze shifting away from Coqeulic even as her feet stayed planted where she stood. Unyielding, even though the gentle tap of a finger to her pendant made her want to retreat.
"No... I ⳽ᥙρρo⳽ᥱ I ωoᥙꙆᑯᥒ't."
The answer was soft-spoken, but honest. Though a nagging sensation that it was "incorrect" pressed at her thoughts. That she sould perform, dance, act-- be anything but honest. Words drilled into her mind by a man who wanted her to ferment her bitterness into wine for people who only saw her as a glass to greedily sip from. Not a woman, an object-- a means to intoxicate themselves, fervent and hedonistic in their consumptions of her.
Her throat felt tight, swallowing down the lump that formed there. She would push past the echo of selfish voices, tried to remember the light she reached for-- the things she wanted so desperately to grasp. And she was sent to this woman to learn something-- a lifeline to grasp, right?
Her gaze shifted to the side, then back to Coqeulic-- then down to the floor, the back again. Finally, she clenched her fists and tried to square her shoulders. Though her voice still came breathy, her mannerisms soft, her expression was determined.
"Bᥙt... I ωᥲᥒt to. TɾᥙꙆყ, I ᑯo! Not ʝᥙ⳽t ƒoɾ Cᖾɩᥱƒ, ᑲᥙt ƒoɾ ຕᥱ, too."
❁ | ❝ ... NOT BAD. THAT'S A PASSABLE ANSWER. ❞ she'd half-expected milly to lean into some doe-eyed 'chief knows best' reverie with no further introspection. but instead, the girl came up with something closer to what coquelic suspects is the truth. and more than that, something that speaks to some self-awareness beneath the ditz.
❝ i'm not really into romance. that syrupy-sweet stuff isn't for me, and it doesn't suit me either. ❞ cagey as always. most anyone can attest to how quickly the mentor tends to shutter the view to anything resembling her heart. ❝ — but it's not as if i don't know what you mean. ❞
her carnation. her violet. her thistle and queen of the night and the other flowers of her garden. nowadays, in the safety of hindsight, coquelic would of course flippantly deny that she'd ever tried to 'tear apart the world' for them and dismiss it all as contract work taken on a whim.
'what's taken away from me, i must take back.
even if it turns into ruins, it must return to me.'
she'd like to brand those the words of a self-serving tyrant, but there are those who know better, loathe as she is to admit.
❝ those things that i prefer to keep around though ? it's better to keep them out of situations where the world needs tearing in the first place. ❞
she stalls for a beat, reining in her digression. it buys her a valuable split-second to take in milly's presence. the scars are faint, but not invisible. perhaps from a combination of tearing and being torn.
❝ so yes, i live for myself, and i teach others to do the same. even if you're one of those ~selfless~ sorts, centering yourself isn't selfish in and of itself. it's what makes you durable enough to meaningfully make room for others. you know what they say about pouring from empty cups or whatever. ❞
❝ living for yourself doesn't mean 'cast off all your attachments', girl. you're only human. but even with the best lovers and friends in the world, you're the only one who's with you for every second of your life. even your shadow will slip away when it gets dark enough, so you may as well ensure that your own company is one you can stand to be alone with — even without the chief. ❞
There was a glint of relief in Milly's posture, the way her shoulders slumped as tension left her. "Oᖾ, ɠooᑯ! I ᑯoᥒ't ɠᥱt ᥲᥒ⳽ωᥱɾ⳽ ɾɩɠᖾt ʋᥱɾყ oƒtᥱᥒ! Wᖾᥲt ᥲ ɾᥱꙆɩᥱƒ!" She gave a soft titter of a laugh, an easy smile, eyes briefly shut from the force of it-- before they opened again to settle on her teacher.
The happy honey bee bit back a second chuckle at that response, amused that someone might believe romance could only be syrupy-sweet... What a silly thought!
There was all kinds of love... so much of it was dark, twisted and tangled, or brooding and bubbling. She'd heard it all, and she loved love in all its forms... At least until it rotted into something putrid and foul. That kind of love was unforgivable.
"Hᥱᖾᥱ..." Finally that laugh slipped out, giving a nervous look as she covered her mouth. "Oᖾ-- ɠooᑯᥒᥱ⳽⳽, I'ຕ ⳽oɾɾყ... Yoᥙ ʝᥙ⳽t ⳽oᥙᥒᑯ SO ຕᥙᥴᖾ Ꙇɩƙᥱ SᥲꙆꙆɩᥱ! Sᖾᥱ ωᥲ⳽ ⳽ᖾყ ᥲᑲoᥙt ᖾᥱɾ ƒᥱᥱꙆɩᥒɠ⳽, too!" Shy was a word for it, really, but Milly had seen straight through the brash and bramble of her dearest friend; someone who resisted love because it was too vulnerable. "I'ຕ ⳽o ⳽oɾɾყ, ρꙆᥱᥲ⳽ᥱ, ρꙆᥱᥲ⳽ᥱ ᥴoᥒtɩᥒᥙᥱ. I'ຕ Ꙇɩ⳽tᥱᥒɩᥒɠ!"
Milly was, truly, listening! Trying her hardest to learn and keep up with everything she was told.
Even when she felt the mentor's eyes on her, it didn't feel terrible... Not like she was being looked at by a hungry animal waiting to devour her, or by a collector appraising an object to add to their possessions. It was different, she wasn't sure what it was, exactly. But Coquelic continued before Milly could fully make sense of that feeling, leaving the dancer to tip her head like a confused puppy as the mentor went further.
Lips parted briefly to object, but shut again without another peep. Part of her wanted to object-- to note that she wasn't selfless, not really... Loving meant being selfless, yes! But it was also inherently selfish. Paradoxically both, simultaneously.
She had wanted everyone to live, would have given everything for it, but she also couldn't stand to see another person die... Love gave and took in equal measure. Selfish and selfless at the same time.
While the honey-hued woman kept her brows furrowed in deep concentration, briefly contemplating how to transform her inner world and thoughts into a voice, it was that final statement that really struck her. Her eyes flashing wider at the mention of the dark, pupils constricting in an unmistakable burst of adrenaline.
Milly instinctively pulled her hand into her own chest, gently resting it against her collarbone and the soft cushion of her breast and resisting the urge to take a half-step back. The gesture was just a small comfort, but one she'd come to rely on heavily.
The scene that sprung to mind was all too familiar, and it took a second of her chewing on the edge of her own lip to find her voice again after the flash of that room lanced through her memories.
Taking a hard swallow, her gaze shifting to the room around her... the flowers, the bright glow of the grow-lights, even the subtle hum of electricity that came from them. "I'ຕ... I'ຕ oƙᥲყ ωɩtᖾ tᖾᥱ ᑯᥲɾƙ, ωɩtᖾ... ᑲᥱɩᥒɠ ᥲꙆoᥒᥱ, ᑲᥙt... It'⳽ Cᖾɩᥱƒ ωᖾo ɠᥱt⳽ ຕᥱ tᖾɾoᥙɠᖾ ɩt. I... ᑯoᥒ't tᖾɩᥒƙ I ᥴoᥙꙆᑯ ᥱʋᥱɾ ᑲᥱ ᥲꙆoᥒᥱ ωɩtᖾoᥙt ᖾᥱɾ!" Milly knew those two words didn't match up, but she wasn't sure how to explain without sounding this way.
So she spoke like she always did-- as best she could, expecting to be ridiculed for the stupidity of it, while hoping in the depths of her heart that maybe someone would understand her.
The twins had gotten their assignment from their boss. It seems as though there were a lot of loose ends with regards to Euproria, some of them needed to be tied up by the 9th Agency. Others can be handled by the MBCC of course, but the Chief was extremely busy chasing their own leads, they couldn't do this alone and so here they were.
The twins: Hawk the oldest and Eagle the youngest, though only by a few seconds. Both women were around the same height and looked almost identical though Hawk had an eyepatch where her left eye should be, and Eagle had two different coloured eyes. That and slight hairstyle differences were the only way one could tell them apart.
They noticed a few other agents leave the intrrogation room, dressed in the same official style as the twins were, they saluted to their co workers and Nightengale when she left the room behind them.
Hawk knew this might not be easy for poor Millie so she had brought something to hopefully cheer her up a little, food.
"Greetings Ms Millie." Eagle entered first with some files under her arms. She would sit opposite the other Sinner and waited for her sister to arrive. "I'm sure you know what we are here for, to ask some questions. Mostly regarding some of the...guests...at the Euproria." An unpleasent topic to be sure, but it was one that needed to be discussed.
"Heya, excuse my sister, she is overly...serious." Of course so was Hawk but she was trying to make the other feel a bit more comfortable. She noticed Millie's smile and grinned back before sitting down next to Eagle. "The name's Hawk, that's my baby sister Eagle." the eyepatched lady nodded to the other. "Here, I brought some snacks."
With that Hawk pulled up a plastic bag and pressed it down gently on the table. Inside was a bottle of water and some chocolates. "So, are you willing to help us identify your past clients?"
A pair of matching faces slipped through the door, catching Milly's attention, a glint of surprise, and then back to that beaming smile. "Oᖾ, tωɩᥒ⳽...! Hoω ωoᥒᑯᥱɾƒᥙꙆ!" She'd exclaim, emphatic in her words, kicking one foot up and casping her hands together in delight as her excitement shot through her entire frame. She was terrible at sitting still for very long...
Still, how could she help it? The last pair of twins she'd met had been on the Euphoria... They had an exquisite routine, until... well. That had been at least a year ago. She'd heard the MBCC had done a fairly good job of finding everyone's remains, so at least... at least they could come home and have a proper burial.
Batting those big eyelashes, Milly's absentminded gaze and eternal smile lingered, her ears clearing enough from the sound of her memories to recognize one of the two agents had sat down infront of her. Her mouth was moving... speaking. Oh dear. Had she zoned out again?
"Hᥙᖾ...?" A few more blinks punctuated her confusion, before she shook it off and gave another chipper response. "Oᖾ--! Yᥱ⳽, oƒ ᥴoᥙɾ⳽ᥱ! I ρɾoຕɩ⳽ᥱ, I'ꙆꙆ ᑯo ຕყ ᥲᑲ⳽oꙆᥙtᥱ ᑲᥱ⳽t! I ᖾᥲʋᥱ ᥒotᖾɩᥒɠ to ᖾɩᑯᥱ, ᥲᥒᑯ Mɾ. E toꙆᑯ ຕᥱ ᥲ Ꙇot oƒ ⳽ᥱᥴɾᥱt⳽!" She seemed a bit proud at that, looking towards the bag with an almost child-like curiosity. "Aᥒᑯ I ຕᥱt ᥲ Ꙇot oƒ ᥴꙆɩᥱᥒt⳽, too! AꙆຕo⳽t ᥱʋᥱɾყoᥒᥱ ωᥲᥒtᥱᑯ ᥲ tᥙɾᥒ ωɩtᖾ ຕᥱ~ WɩꙆꙆ... ωɩꙆꙆ ᥒᥲຕɩᥒɠ tᖾᥱຕ ᥲꙆꙆ ᖾᥱꙆρ Cᖾɩᥱƒ?"
Miss Nightingale had introduced Milly to a strange woman with a cane and a brimmed hat, who had asked her a bunch of questions she didn't really understand before the official looking woman was called away by another official looking man. Everyone in suits, with sunglasses... Milly was wringing her hands together, nerves frought with unease. She didn't like the way they looked at her, the firmness in their tone, it set her on edge. So did the dimness of the room, and the lock of the door behind them.
Nightingale had apologized for it, but before the woman had left she'd said something about sending in a subordinate to get answers... Which meant she had to go back into that room again, right?
"Tᖾᥱᥒ will I ɠᥱt to ຕᥱᥱt Cᖾɩᥱƒ...?" The question hung heavy in the air, watching the adjutant avoid her gaze and clear her throat. Offer her a nonanswer, then excuse herself for business as usual. Standing alone again, Milly gave a soft sigh. "I'ꙆꙆ tᥲƙᥱ tᖾᥲt ᥲ⳽ ᥲ ᥒo..."
It was a few days after this incident that Milly was called out again, supposedly the "subordinates" that Langley had mentioned were here. Milly was instructed to meet that person, or persons, in the interrogation room.
Keeping her hand clutched to her chest, she put on a bright smile and a cheerful demeanor, trying to mask the tug in her chest. The lingering fear that if... if she answered wrong... then what? What if they took her away? What if she never got to meet Chief...?
The sound of the click of the lock opening startled from her thoughts, picking herself back up and giving a happy greeting.
"Oᖾ, ຕყ, ᖾᥱꙆꙆo!" Milly straightened her posture, greeting the agent from the 9th agency the same way she would have greeted a new guest on Euproria.
❁ | ❝ ... ❞ a few things are wrong with milly's presuppositions — coquelic is not 'a garden' for one — but given that the misunderstanding's throughline is a compliment to her, the mentor feels compelled to take it in stride.
she sees instantly why chief sent this buzzing, buoyant girl her way. it's evident in that delay when she stopped to read the note and her wide-eyed wonder at most things. not to mention the way milly speaks of the chief hints at a devotional deference that goes beyond mere respect. her original impression of the request, that this one 'needs her horizons broadened', is looking progressively accurate.
you really do think i'm a life coach, don't you, chief ?
❝ no, the flowers can tell you a thing or two about that. ❞ may as well get right into it. she sets the shears aside and strides past milly, her fingers finding the heart of a carnation. ❝ they're resilient because their roots run deep. they sprout again after harsh winters and can survive being crushed underfoot. flowers are uniquely gifted with the power of rebirth, and they exercise it simply because they must. the way they bloom has nothing to do with us, no matter how we might admire them. ❞
the allegory is a little topical, but an adequate starting point.
❝ milly, you said ? i'm coquelic. not too long ago some would have called me the mentor. not the kind the chief is pretending i am, but it's true that a tenet of mine is to live and die on one's own terms. so reflect a little for starters and tell me — why do you suppose this is a lesson you need ? ❞
all good teachers must first gauge their students' current standing before deciding their curriculum, and that singular question is her placement test. whatever conclusion she comes to is mostly besides the point; coquelic is already looking past that and into the machinery of milly's psyche, waiting to evaluate from where she derives an answer.
As the former mentor got closer, it became more obvious that a few scars littered what pale skin was exposed under her vibrant clothing. Most of them were carefully hidden away, and so well-tended to with lotion and massage that they had faded quite a lot. Subtle hints in the way her muscles tensed and fluttered as a body moved closer, then past her, while her smile beamed bright and sunny all the same, whispered unspoken stories to a trained eye.
A pivot and swivel on her heel, graceful and practiced, as her gaze followed Coquelic's graceful steps towards the carnation. Milly listened in earnest, her expression dimming briefly as the way the woman described the flowers. Something about it strummed a cord in her chest, reminded her of her recent events... The icy chill of death, her own winter... Yet she'd bloomed again, hadn't she? Because... she loved someone.
The briefly distant gaze she'd given the flower, staring through it rather than at it, broke when she was startled by the sound of a name. "Oᖾ... ᙅoϙᥙᥱꙆɩᥴ." The word repeated, unfamiliar on her tongue but rolling off it gracefully. "ᙏყ! ᙓʋᥱɾყtᖾɩᥒɠ ᥲᑲoᥙt ყoᥙ ɩ⳽ ρɾᥱttყ, ɩ⳽ᥒ't ɩt?" She gave a soft titter of a laugh, smiling towards her again as she offered another compliment. It was sincere, at least... she didn't really believe in idle flattery. But compliments made people feel good, so she offered them freely.
Reflection was a little bit harder to manage. Milly spent so much time daydreaming, avoiding the present moment and her own thoughts that it felt uncomfortable to settle into herself.
"Ꙇ⳽ ɩt... ᑲᥱᥴᥲᥙ⳽ᥱ tᖾᥲt ωoᥙꙆᑯ ຕᥲƙᥱ ຕᥱ ᥲ ᑲᥱttᥱɾ ρᥲɾtᥒᥱɾ?" The honey-haired dancer tried to offer a vapid, empty response-- but it barely lasted more than the beat of her heart, before a frown finally graced her features, or maybe more of a pout. Sighing softly, she'd continue in a lower tone. "ᙁo... Ꙇ'ຕ ⳽oɾɾყ, Ꙇ ƙᥒoω tᖾᥲt'⳽ ᥒot ɩt. Ꙇ'ຕ... ⳽tɩꙆꙆ Ꙇᥱᥲɾᥒɩᥒɠ ᖾoω to tᥲꙆƙ to ɾᥱɠᥙꙆᥲɾ ρᥱoρꙆᥱ, ᥒot ɠᥙᥱ⳽t⳽. ᒍᥙ⳽t ɠɩʋᥱ ຕᥱ ᥲ ຕoຕᥱᥒt, Ꙇ'ꙆꙆ ɠᥱt ɩt! Ꙇ ρɾoຕɩ⳽ᥱ!"
She was uneducated, Sallie called her stupid-- and she wouldn't argue that, but she did understand some things. She understood she needed to admit something deeper here, if she wanted to grow-- if she wanted to become someone worthy of loving.
Milly gave the question a long, hard think, running through the fact she knew that was what the Chief was trying to show her with all of this-- and, the story about the flowers she'd just been told. It definitely took her longer than average, lips pursing as she mulled through thoughts and words and tried to form a coherent sentence to reply with.
"...ᙏᥲყᑲᥱ... ᑲᥱᥴᥲᥙ⳽ᥱ Ꙇ ⳽ᖾoᥙꙆᑯ ᖾᥲʋᥱ ᑯɩᥱᑯ...? ᙖᥙt Ꙇ ᥴoᥒtɩᥒᥙᥱᑯ Ꙇɩʋɩᥒɠ, ᑲᥱᥴᥲᥙ⳽ᥱ... Ꙇ Ꙇoʋᥱ ᙅᖾɩᥱƒ. Ꙇ ωᥲᥒtᥱᑯ to ⳽ᥱᥱ tᖾᥱຕ, ᑲᥱ ᥒᥱᥲɾ tᖾᥱຕ, ᖾᥱᥲɾ tᖾᥱຕ ⳽ρᥱᥲƙ ᥲɠᥲɩᥒ!" Her tone oscilated between soft and contemplative, and fleeting flourishes of passion when she thought about the Chief. "Ꙇ- Ꙇ ωᥲᥒtᥱᑯ ᥲ ᥴᖾᥲᥒᥴᥱ to tᥱꙆꙆ tᖾᥱຕ ᖾoω Ꙇ ƒᥱꙆt! ᖴᥲᥴᥱ to ƒᥲᥴᥱ... ᥲᖾ... Ꙇ... ωoᥙꙆᑯ Ꙇɩʋᥱ ƒoɾ tᖾᥱຕ, ᥲᥒᑯ ᑯɩᥱ ƒoɾ tᖾᥱຕ."
Her love-sick excitement came, and then ebbed like a gentle tide. Sighing again, "ᗣᥒᑯ... ᙎᥱꙆꙆ. ᙅᖾɩᥱƒ ɩ⳽ ᥲ ɠooᑯ ρᥱɾ⳽oᥒ... Ꙇ tᖾɩᥒƙ... tᖾᥱყ ຕɩɠᖾt ᥒot ωᥲᥒt ຕᥱ to ᑯo tᖾᥲt." Her pale pink gaze lifted towards Coquelic, expectantly-- checking to see if she'd gotten the "right" answer for this little pop-quiz.
Her brows briefly knitted as she searched the other woman for clarity, a bit of curiosity bubbling to the surface just enough to cause her lips to part for one last thought: "ᙃo ყoᥙ ᥒot ᖾᥲʋᥱ ⳽oຕᥱoᥒᥱ ყoᥙ Ꙇoʋᥱ? Ʈᖾᥲt ყoᥙ'ᑯ tᥱᥲɾ ᥲρᥲɾt tᖾᥱ ωoɾꙆᑯ to ⳽ᥱᥱ ᥲɠᥲɩᥒ? Ƴoᥙ ɾᥱᥲꙆꙆყ... ʝᥙ⳽t Ꙇɩʋᥱ ƒoɾ ყoᥙɾ⳽ᥱꙆƒ?" It seemed a little preposterous to Milly. Love was the reason she could wake up every morning, the reason she pushed forward to tomorrow...
A misconception about Millie? That she’s a creepy stalker who falls in love too easily.
Ooh yes, okay! Here's my take:
(cw for talk about abuse and avoiding SA)
and spoilers for honeyed night and Milly's interrogation:
Milly's ability first awakens when she's disassociating through being attacked, she describes feeling "numb" and making her attackers in turn feel numb too; making them not hit her as hard.
When she met Chief, it was probably the first act of human kindness she ever encountered. It was safe, and warm, and everything you want to have when you've been so alone your whole life. It's natural to feel love for that. (And the more she learned about the Chief, the more she saw how heroic and kind they were.)
In turn, when she wound up on the Euphoria immediately afterwards, her ability now could make people feel her love just like her feeling numb had made her attackers more numb.
In order to survive the Euphoria, falling into this delusional relationship and loving Chief as hard as she does meant the people on Euphoria wouldn't harm her or try to physically touch her. Which then extended to the lip-balm she gave others.
She needed to go that deep into it, because it meant it manifested in her powers. (She was only a B rank sinner up until the end of Honeyed night!) If she didn't, she'd never be able to stave off the guests of Euphoria for herself and for the other entertainers, so she indulged herself and this fantasy.
My proof that she's not simply engaging in "stalker" type loving from afar, is how often she has moments of lucidity. She talks to the Chief about wondering if Chief already has someone, if it'd be a burden to confess, but how much she really wants to tell the Chief about her feelings-- Even the end of her interro, she doesn't anticipate being loved back at all. And several of her supervision events, she becomes flustered and panics when the "fantasy" gets close to being "reality"
There were Sinners she had met, and Sinners she hadn't. Each of them seemed to bring a new lesson for her, something to broaden Milly's horizons... The Chief had personally arranged the first two, and now it felt like a fun little scavenger-hunt to flit around the Bureau like a buzzing bee looking for the next hidden gem! At least until the Chief was better and could come back and personally give her guidance...
Today's 'mission' was something about finding a garden.
Though she asked around, she only learned about a "Greenhouse" in the underground facility. In the end, she surmised this was as close to a garden as you could get. It made more sense anyways! How would you get a garden to grow without sunlight?
As she rounded the corner, Milly's eyes lit up at the sight of racks and trays of various flora, some tucked into their own hydroponic chambers, while other more 'robust' species were simply sitting under specialized lights.
The entertainer's heels click-clacked across the walkway as she hurried inside to get a closer look. She hadn't seen such things up close... They didn't exist in syndicate, and the Euphoria only had select plants there to entertain the guests, most of them fake or living in such inhospitable conditions that they had to be regularly replaced.
"Oh mყ! It's bᥱᥲᥙtιfᥙᥣ! Hᥱᥣᥣo ᥣιttᥣᥱ fᥣoᥕᥱrs!"
Her voice trilled as she leaned down to greet one of the first blooms she spotted. The red shawl she got when she arrived at the Bureau clinging to her shoulders, placing her hands on her knees as she cheerfully continued.
"I hᥱᥲrd ιf ყoᥙ tᥲᥣk to ρᥣᥲᥒts thᥱყ groᥕ morᥱ! Wιᥣᥣ ყoᥙ ᥣιstᥱᥒ to ᥲᥣᥣ mყ storιᥱs? I hᥲvᥱ SO mᥲᥒყ sᥕᥱᥱt ᥣovᥱ storιᥱs I ᥴoᥙᥣd shᥲrᥱ ᥕιth ყoᥙ~"
The happiness in her tone was evident, her heart swelling with delight at the sight of such life... Death had always clung to her, but here, the scent of the flowers and simulated ozone chased off the memory of that wretched smell.
"Is thᥲt ᥕhყ I ᥕᥲs sᥱᥒt hᥱrᥱ to sᥱᥱ ყoᥙ? Ehᥱ! Thᥱ Chιᥱf ιs so smᥲrt ᥲᥒd thoᥙghtfᥙᥣ! I kᥒᥱᥕ ιt!"
Of course that wasn't really the intended mission for the day, but, it would work out. Milly was lucky that way, at least... Perhaps she'd simply used all her bad luck for this lifetime already.
❁ | COQUELIC DOESN'T INTERJECT RIGHT AWAY, a small pair of pruning shears in her hand and an expression of placid observation on her face. as much as she likes to think of the greenhouse as her domain, she's often reminded that it's an mbcc facility and that other sinners will wander in as they please. she's grown accustomed to by now. mostly. it seems though that this one was so enraptured by the flora that she missed their gardener in her periphery.
the mentor isn't one to be charmed, but there's a certain droll amusement to the scene, like watching a newcomer stumble upon some grand secret world. she weighs her options : speak up and possibly startle the poor girl, or eavesdrop on these apparent love stories.
she vaguely recalls the assignment, now that she thinks about it: something about a new sinner who could use her horizons broadened — that of course is coquelic's interpretation. chief's request was worded with much more softness and leniency, and with that usual infuriating assurance.
( 'you are the mentor, right ? i think i can trust that you'll have something for her,' or something like that. ) pah ! i teach killers, not tender hearts. you think i'm a life coach ?
still, though she may grumble to herself, coquelic knows that she's not in charge here. and this is probably the trade-off for getting out of that one dispatch mission...
❝ i take it you're the new girl ? ❞ she says finally, propping her elbow in her other palm, shears lazily twirling a silver orbit around her fingers. ❝ if so, i'm the one chief sent you here for. but i won't fault you for enjoying the flowers — they do have a way of winning people over. ❞
The little buzzing bee was just about to start telling a story to the little flower, when she heard a voice cut through the dull hum of the room's machines. For a brief, fleeting second, the performer's gaze stayed on the bloom in front of her, lips parting in surprise as if the flower had just asked her a question in turn-- before her mind managed to catch up to the absurdity to that idea, and she gave a glance around.
That pale, pink gaze landed on the stranger. A lovely woman, with an equally dazzling gown -- with flowers and pretty jewels, not too unlike her own! Milly clasped her hands together, thumbs tucked tightly against each other and resting against her collarbone as she stood up straight. The effort of her turn causing the skirt of her dress to give a little flourish in her movements.
"Oh! Yᥱs! I'm Mιᥣᥣყ." Her voice carried a certain airiness, bubbly and light while enunciating her own name with a degree of firmness. Her shoulders bouncing in time with her declaration of her identity, as if keeping to an unheard rhythm.
"Woᥕ! Yoᥙ'rᥱ so ρrᥱttყ~ No wonder Chief said you were a garden!" Her praise slipped free, shamelessly and sweet as honey. A soft titter on her tongue as she beamed a smile towards the gardener. "I sᥙρρosᥱ I shoᥙᥣd hᥲvᥱ kᥒoᥕᥒ thᥲt thᥱ fᥣoᥕᥱrs hᥱrᥱ ᥕoᥙᥣdᥒ't bᥱ tᥱᥲᥴhιᥒg mᥱ ᥲboᥙt... mm. Oh, shoot, ᥕhᥲt ᥕᥲs ιt--"
Milly sucked in a swift breath, promptly digging around her person for a slip of paper she'd tucked into a hidden pocket stitched into her dress. Once retrieved, she squinted at the paper, brows furrowing in concentration.
She'd gotten better at writing, but reading was a little trickier. She hadn't had a lot of practice with it outside of Cassian's drink menus and the headlines she'd clipped out from the newspapers... But getting little letters from the Chief still made her heart soar! She wanted to read them effortlessly~
Finally, she seemed confident enough to look back up from the paper, that smile popping right back. "Lιvιᥒg for mყsᥱᥣf!" She'd give a proud look of accomplishment as she recited the words. "Is thιs somᥱthιᥒg ყoᥙ'rᥱ rᥱᥲᥣᥣყ good ᥲt? Oh, I'm ᥴᥱrtᥲιᥒ ყoᥙ mᥙst bᥱ! Thᥱ Chιᥱf hᥲs jᥙst bᥱᥱᥒ so ᥴᥣᥱvᥱr ᥕιth ᥲᥣᥣ of thᥱ ρᥱoρᥣᥱ I'vᥱ mᥱt! Thᥱყ'rᥱ ᥲᥣᥣ so good ᥲt thᥱsᥱ thιᥒgs~ So mᥙᥴh bᥱttᥱr thᥲᥒ I ᥲm."
The warmth she felt thinking about the notes, and her little expeditions, and the promise of this new meeting, all seeped into her voice as she praised the Chief and looked over Coquelic.
She was already imagining what good friends they would be, barely able to hold still as she rocked onto her toes and back down... Sure, she might be rejected today, but there was always tomorrow! And then the day after that~ Or even the day after that one!
There were Sinners she had met, and Sinners she hadn't. Each of them seemed to bring a new lesson for her, something to broaden Milly's horizons... The Chief had personally arranged the first two, and now it felt like a fun little scavenger-hunt to flit around the Bureau like a buzzing bee looking for the next hidden gem! At least until the Chief was better and could come back and personally give her guidance...
Today's 'mission' was something about finding a garden.
Though she asked around, she only learned about a "Greenhouse" in the underground facility. In the end, she surmised this was as close to a garden as you could get. It made more sense anyways! How would you get a garden to grow without sunlight?
As she rounded the corner, Milly's eyes lit up at the sight of racks and trays of various flora, some tucked into their own hydroponic chambers, while other more 'robust' species were simply sitting under specialized lights.
The entertainer's heels click-clacked across the walkway as she hurried inside to get a closer look. She hadn't seen such things up close... They didn't exist in syndicate, and the Euphoria only had select plants there to entertain the guests, most of them fake or living in such inhospitable conditions that they had to be regularly replaced.
"Oh mყ! It's bᥱᥲᥙtιfᥙᥣ! Hᥱᥣᥣo ᥣιttᥣᥱ fᥣoᥕᥱrs!"
Her voice trilled as she leaned down to greet one of the first blooms she spotted. The red shawl she got when she arrived at the Bureau clinging to her shoulders, placing her hands on her knees as she cheerfully continued.
"I hᥱᥲrd ιf ყoᥙ tᥲᥣk to ρᥣᥲᥒts thᥱყ groᥕ morᥱ! Wιᥣᥣ ყoᥙ ᥣιstᥱᥒ to ᥲᥣᥣ mყ storιᥱs? I hᥲvᥱ SO mᥲᥒყ sᥕᥱᥱt ᥣovᥱ storιᥱs I ᥴoᥙᥣd shᥲrᥱ ᥕιth ყoᥙ~"
The happiness in her tone was evident, her heart swelling with delight at the sight of such life... Death had always clung to her, but here, the scent of the flowers and simulated ozone chased off the memory of that wretched smell.
"Is thᥲt ᥕhყ I ᥕᥲs sᥱᥒt hᥱrᥱ to sᥱᥱ ყoᥙ? Ehᥱ! Thᥱ Chιᥱf ιs so smᥲrt ᥲᥒd thoᥙghtfᥙᥣ! I kᥒᥱᥕ ιt!"
Of course that wasn't really the intended mission for the day, but, it would work out. Milly was lucky that way, at least... Perhaps she'd simply used all her bad luck for this lifetime already.
My partner suggested that Chief would hook Milly up with Sinners who could help teach her life skills. (because of her interest in cooking and cleaning for Chief.)
But also the Garden. Because she's a girl's girl and loves her dagger. 💛
Dreams were fickle things, sometimes the sweetest escape, while others offered a portal in time to things rather forgotten. – Heart hammering, limbs stuck in molasses, voice stolen as you struggled against blurry and shapeless assailants that turned out to just be your own bedsheets.
"ᗣᖾ!"
Milly woke with a start, swinging a fist as she finally broke free from that lead-filled space, her limbs moving the way her unconscious mind had begged them to in her nightmare. She froze again, breath still falling in a rapid pace as she tried to get her bearings.
It took several few bleary-eyed seconds to figure it out, pink orbs scanning the unfamiliar metal walls, a soft bed with thin standard-issue sheets. She only vaguely recalled getting here… a light throb in her temples reminding her that she'd been drinking the night before.
That's right! With Zephyr– memories flooded back into her mind as she scrambled to get to her feet. She was still dressed in her usual gown, but lacked the additional attire that she'd shed back on the broken stage of the Euphoria.
Though no one seemed to be in earshot, the woman's giddy voice flowed freely. Her tone saccharine and practically dripping with honey as she stared at the drab and dreary bunker walls like she'd woken up in a dream castle.
In her excitement she scurried out of her cell and into the corridor, barefoot and eyes gleaming with wonder. Her first thought was to dash through the halls looking for her beloved, the fantasy of rounding a corner and seeing that bright and smiling face… The slow turn, her leaping into the Chief's embrace, and then living ‘happily ever after’ at the forefront of her thoughts.
But no more than two steps outside of her quarters did she come to a sudden halt. Her smile falling and reshaping into a pout.
She chided herself, straightening her posture and puffing out her cheeks to bolster her confidence. Spinning back around to duck back into her 'room' – one of the retrofitted cells that had been made into single-occupancy housing, she could only hope that no one saw her in her present state of disheveled.
A shower, her usual beauty routine, and she'd be in tip-top shape! Then...maybe she could figure out where to buy roses! They probably had those here, right?
She assumed she had just enough to get herself situated and showered… in fact… she had more than enough. To her surprise, sitting inside the small shower, was a gift basket… Overflowing with all her favorite soaps and shampoos, her favorite lotion, hair products – but... how…?
Her fingers gently plucked the gifts from their basket, so gingerly nested inside… A fleeting bubble of fear was promptly popped as her nails brushed across a small card. Lifting it, her lips silently formed a few words before reading the final line loud enough to be formed by her voice.
Milly's lower lip quivered instantly, her eyes welling with tears as her heart felt so full it could simply burst. It reminder her how much she had to do! How many people she needed to see... It made her want to hurry as quick as she could through this shower!
As the warm water hit her body, and the sweet scents of her favorite shampoo washing away the grime of the late-night Eastside bar, she found her voice to lilt out a song. The candied words trailing from her room down the hall in a decadent melody.
Initially released in 2016, I finally decided to give this theme a makeover and recoded it from scratch. [Here’s] what the old theme looked like. Still features Vi from League of Legends, but with her PsyOps skin this time.
► PREVIEW | CODE | CREDITS
Theme features:
hover description: [optional], you can make it always visible
custom title & subtitle: at the top, and on the bottom left side
music player: 1 song, with artist name on hover
custom links: up to 6
background image: supports both small and large backgrounds
others: lots of shadowy effects, toggle tags, back-to-top button
Be sure to follow the terms of use and like/reblog if you’re using this theme! Please contact me if you have any questions/problems with the theme and I’ll try to help you as much as I can! ♥
