❝ i don’t like you. i just… don’t want you to get hurt. that’s all. ❞
―――― bloody streets / bloodier hands. crimson envelopes diamond in a strange, almost beautiful way; admired by pools of blue until it is flicked, sharply, towards to ground. the droplets spatter and emma does not spare them a glance. she is distracted instead by the source of most of the carnage: a beast in clothing that matches their tattered surroundings, though most would just call them a woman. they would be wrong.
diamond reverts to flesh, but the click-clack of her steps remain. unlike their adversaries, emma’s approach has no hesitation.
―― “ my, my. such a swift rescue ? i knew you liked me. “
her teeth bare themselves in a smile, splitting blue and red. it is then that she dares to look around: fallen bodies, but not one she cares about. good. if one of her children had been hurt ... but the fact is not lost on her: mana got all the vulnerable to safety before they broke loose all hell. a spark of admiration shines in her eyes for a moment / as does her gratitude.
( " i don’t like you. i just… don’t want you to get hurt. that’s all. " )
she can’t help it, the snort that escapes her nose. a mocking guffaw. pretty thing, awful liar. not the first she’s thought such of. i must have a type, but she knows she does. as blue meets magenta / emma leans down, reaches up, grasps that sharp jaw within her painted nails and forces their gaze to stay. forces them to look, to be seen. white acrylics dig, just slightly, into dragonskin.
she has not missed it. the little details. there is a focus to the way mana fights when she is protecting a target, not just eliminating one. more control, yet more ferocity. emma has watched long enough to know, because it mimics behaviours of her family. sometimes she thinks logan and mana would be a dangerous duo. not as dangerous as us.
closer, closer. nearly nose to nose. emma’s smile is all lips now, sly and knowing. lashes flutter, just the slightest bit, and if mana listens she may hear something other than the witch’s usual mocking tone.
―― “ darling ... i’m a telepath. why don’t we try that again ? “
