#evilreine

❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜ / @evilreine

the town she entered felt off , there was no other way to explain it . it was as if she had traveled back in time , it looked like there was limited technology , cars that hadn't been serviced in decades and stores that no one would dare catch her in . parking her jeep , regina got out with a smrik on her face . " perfect , the middle of nowhere is truly nowhere . " the blonde trusted her instinct , and started to make her way down the street , where she came in contact with someone who had the same swagger and click of her heels in the street . " finally , someone with taste , can you tell me what backwards ass place i've ended up ? "

she's snarfing down a grilled cheese, courtesy of miss swan, when the woman she's dubbed lady fever pitch sits down across from her in the diner.

khione, at least, has the good grace to swallow her food and to make sure no crumbs are left behind on her face or clothes before she speaks. (a goossens is a goossens inside and outside the house, after all.)

"i'm sorry i almost plunged the town into a new ice age, ma'am. i'll endeavor not to do it again."

then again, in the mayor's defense... it must be hard to have to deal with a superhero in her early twenties on top of everything else: her mad science teacher made a device which exploded and then sent her friends - and she herself - careening through space and time? and then they ended up here? it sounds insane.

still, there is a hint of unease even if she tries really hard not to show it. it's her fire. it's not right. it's not warren's fire.

he leveled her with a challenging look. “ how do i know you won't? ” she was after all known for having quite a temper when angered. if anyone had anything to worry about it was him. he didn't feel inclined on entering this partnership if she was already getting prepared for the worst case scenario. he understood her wariness. he didn't pretend to know her, but had heard enough to guess that it was very much warranted. he couldn't help but be vexed that her mistrust was turned his way though.

A single eye remains down. It’s a shade of moss like there are no words for, an excruciatingly dark black that is only a true color when the light plays upon an iris. Otherwise it is the deepest evergreen-- dark, dark, dark, dark. Gloved hands are still, and large, large shoulders remain unmoving. That entire body is a statue of muscle. A leather jacket is tight around shoulders, so old it is soft, and beneath a black shirt, spattered in old blood. Black, tightly fitted pants, boots high enough to adhere to knees.

She can feel a sense of simmering rage beneath what is solemnity. There is quiet in this place abundant of books-- Kitty can read but the letters jump from space to space. It becomes hard for her to follow, and she had lost her other eye at eight. The depth perception disparity is second-nature to her, now. The quiet anger she feels is not her own, she recognizes, it is Her Highness’s. She stays ever vigilant, not a word spoken, but cranes her neck to peer at Regina in a high-backed armchair. She is curious about the tome in her lap, but does not know how to address. To speak.

She fidgets only momentarily-- this kind of stillness breeds anxiety in the pit of her stomach. She feels nervous to remain this stagnant-- immovable. She has to move to feel comfortable.

Send me “✒︎” for a random, dumb, pointless fact about my muse.

Status: YEP YES PLEASE