wicked.

"I DON'T KNOW WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT. THE ONLY THING I'VE EVER REALLY WANTED

...WAS TO BE UNDERSTOOD."

❝ listen, mal, i'm all for making a quick buck especially when the shits so easy to grab but─ ❞ cosmo cringed as mal ducked forward to fill her vial of what was supposedly enchanted lake fluid, ❝ i─ i really don't do well with water, ❞

She had to stifle a laugh at his attempt to copy a magic gesture. "Thinking up a spell to bend the water into all of these vials might take longer than just grabbing it the normal way. Plus I don't want to risk my magic tainting it in any way."

While Mal had no problem kneeling by the shallow end, even she had to admit that she got a little uneasy the further out she looked across the water... "It's not as deep as it looks, at least not at this edge," She gives a proper attempt to reassure him, as she holds a full vial out towards him. "But... fine. Can you at least cork these and store them in the bag?"

she was surprised by mal's apology and it gave her pause. she had changed. "i would've appreciated that," alice maintained her tone, but with much less conviction. "it's in the past, we can't go back on that."

Some relief became evident in Mal's expression. She thought back to all those who had called her a traitor for never returning to the Isle, but hearing Alice's truth lightened some of the remaining guilt that she carried.

"...if you wanna say I was a shit girlfriend, we can settle on that and call it a day," She suggests with a shrug, and even attempts somewhat of a smile. "You'd be right, if you did say it."

"Well this 'enchanted bullshit' has the ability to break a lot of basic enchantments and curses. You don't need to be a magic user to utilize this stuff, which means it's worth selling," Mal reminds him, pulling another vial full of water out of the lake and capping it off.

"Now are you gonna help me fill these things up or what?" She asks, turning to him and dangling an empty vial for him to take.

hearing mal’s voice, she let out a hitched breath and dropped her arrow. hand going back to her wound as she leaned her head back against the brick wall. “yeah, but i’ll be fine.” her voice was rather hoarse. unable to keep her body up as much. there was a chance that she was badly injured. she was just hoping clint didn’t notice he didn’t have backup. though, she’s sure he might find out soon. “help me up so we can finish this.” already attempting to stand up. 

"You sure about that?" She asks, with clear disbelief, before she can really stop herself.

Stepping closer and crouching down, Mal's eyes scan the wound along the girl's side. There was definitely blood seeping through her shirt, and dirt and glass seemed to be stuck to the wound as well. Shaking her head, she puts a hand on Kate's shoulder, and gently pushes her back against the wall.

"You're not finishing anything. There's glass stuck to that injury, and it's gonna be really painful if it isn't removed."

Breaking her stationary position, Mal ran. Magic seeped through her skin, doing its best to locate any sign of life nearby the building. Amongst the debris and panic was something that felt familiar, yet faint. She had to take the chance.

"Kate?" She calls out, jogging closer, until she spots a flash of purple down an alleyway. "Ka--holy shit, that's a lot of blood..."

do not confuse my kindness for weakness. let it be known, there is strength in heart.

“those are all traits of great writers. and serial killers.”

“the first boy/girl/person i kiss would turn out to be a psychotic, serial-killing monster.”

“how do you feel about scary movies?”

“we work. we shouldn’t, but we do.”

“hummers stick together.”

“being your friend should come with a warning label.”

“you giggle when you text, which is a 24/7 addiction.”

“[name], the mark you have left on me is indelible.”

“i act as if i don’t care if people dislike me. deep down… i enjoy it.”

“are you really going to make me ask?”

“i want to assure you i remain as cold and heartless as the first day we met.”

“i’ll survive alone. i always do.”

“i could die alone!”

“we all die alone.”

“as soon as the dirt hits the coffin, i’m out.”

“[name] always looks half dead.”

“i actually fillet the bodies of my victims, then feed them to my menagerie of pets.”

“if you need me for anything, anything at all, i’m only a crystal ball away.”

“everyone would know i failed to get the job done.”

“not hugging is kind of our thing.”

“the only person who gets to torture my sibling is me.”

“you guys are making me nauseous. not in a good way.”

“my personal philosophy is kill or be killed.”

“you growl in your sleep.”

“i don’t know who etsy is, but i doubt she was an outcast settler.”

“if i am the monster, then why haven’t i killed you?”

“for some reason i cannot fathom or indulge, you seem to like me.”

“seriously, you could cut the tension with an executioner’s axe.”

“i’m not friend material, let alone more-than-friend material.”

“i will never fall in love, or be a housewife, or have a family.”

“i swear on my late scorpion’s soul, my hands are clean.”

“they couldn’t even spring for real pig’s blood. it’s only paint.”

“you know the old saying: never bring a knife to a swordfight. unless it’s concealed.”

“they want to turn me into a version of herself.”

“i find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation.”

“it takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide.”

“emotions are a gateway trait. they lead to feelings, which trigger tears. i don’t do tears.”

“you’re really bad at cheering people up.”

“this reminds me of when you got your first grave-digging kit. you were so happy you nearly smiled.”

“there’s that biting sense of humor that i always adored.”

“if he breaks your heart, i’ll nail-gun his.”

“why would i share information about an ongoing investigation with a high school kid?”

“don’t you want eyes and ears behind those ivy-covered walls?”

“did you think i was going to judge you over some lousy prank?”

“i consistently stalk my parents.”

“i brought my pocket mace. the medieval kind.”

“it’s not my fault i can’t interpret your emotional morse code.”

“there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right.”

“i’d rather stick needles in my eyes. i’ll probably do that anyway.”