#cya.

sorry for not responding to all of the people saying hi to me. that was really uncool of me...still got a ways to go, i guess.

SHE  WAS  SUN-STAINED.  though  her  skin  always  had  the  suli  warmth,  it  only  seemed  to  grow  into  an  even  glow  across  the  planes  of  her  cheek  and  the  rounds  of  her  shoulders.  the  salt  of  the  sea  had  made  her  hair  permanently  wave  into  jet  black  waves  despite  her  long  braid  down  her  back.  she  was  free  and  her  clothes  retained  sand  and  rips.  THE  WRAITH  SEEMED  TO  BE  A  GHOST  ONTO  HERSELF.      and  the  woman  suddenly  could  take  up  space  with  time  between  them,  aged  across  the  ocean  as  expensive  whiskey  tucked  into  barrels  below  the  deck  of  an  exceptional  ship.    no  longer  did  she  rot  against  the  shores  and  cobblestones,  but  rather  thrive  under  the  pressure.  

inej's  soul  still  lived  in  the  city  where  she  transformed.  like  an  unruly  phoenix,  she  burnt  from  being  to  end  until  she  caught  in  the  sails  and  saltwater.  her  soul  still  lingered  in  the  alleyways  and  blushing  vibrant  red  clubs  and  hidden  away  in  the  click  of  delicate  locks  that  had  been  picked  open  of  those  who  crossed  them.  despite  her  heart's  best  interest  and  her  mind's  careful  plans,  the  tug  of  a  broken  soul  still  weakened  her  until  she  came  slithering  back  to  land  to  a  tailored  jacket  and  a  rush  of  fog.  

besides,  inej  was  a  spiritual  woman,  after  all.  no  wonder  the  soul  would  sometimes  prevail.  

the  blade  of  nostalgia  got  her  in  the  stomach  when  she  looked  at  him  in  the  streetlamps.  it  was  just  as  gory,  too,  oozing  of  memories  that  stained  redder  than  blood.    HE  HAD  A  WAY  OF  SNEAKING  UP  ON  HER.  every  time  she  thought  she  would  be  able  to  forget  his  words  would  bind  her  to  the  past,  to  her  strength,  to  her  bones  that  braced  for  the  fall.  a  knot,  too  intertwined,  twisting  her  back  to  the  harbor  like  a  lighthouse  flicking  her  to  shelter.    it  could  be  a  lifeline  or  it  could  be  a  trap  toward  the  storm  by  a  siren  song.    either  way,  it  was  an  adventure.  

there  was  no  point  in  dedicating  herself  to  land  when  she  docked  to  him.    a  smile  fought  to  break  her  face.  her  legs  quivered  at  the  stillness  of  ketterdam,  tucking  her  feet  into  the  uneven  streets  from  the  dock.  a  bag  was  crossed  over  her  chest  and  her  jacket  rustled  silently  behind  her  as  she  walked.    it  was  colder  than  she  remembered,  but  she  didn't  mind.        ❝    is  that  a  compliment?  ❞            she  never  could  be  quite  sure  of  his  tongue,  so  she  challenged  further,      ❝  I  didn't  know  you  did  those  when  coins  weren't  involved.  ❞