#thread; ree

"I feel like I might’ve lost the plot a bit." It could’ve been just too many words hurled at her. Or it could be her lack of brainpower at the moment. Two hours of sleep in as many days didn’t make for top condition.

@lovesfirstblood sent: secrets are like zombies, they never truly die. (Ree)

     For a moment, Ree was speechless. She’d never considered that secrets were like zombies, but it made a certain amount of sense. Secrets never did die. And some would simply fester and rot—also much like a zombie. That was a visual she’d rather not think of, so she swiftly shook her head clear and managed a faint smile.

Guy made a really good point. 

@glassmenagerieofmuses​ sent :“I seek the means to fight injustice. To turn fear against those who prey on the fearful.” (From Diego to Ree--I'm cracking up)

     Oh, she understood what fighting for injustice was like. She’d done--still did it, when it struck her. For all her efforts, however, it had ended in punishment and exile. Sometimes, the fight just wasn’t worth it.

     But this guy... he had the zeal, the drive she remembered from back in her early days--only, obviously, multiplied by a greater number than Ree cared to calculate right now.

A second later, she was up, poised on one knee—the pain barely throbbed—knife flying from her hand with a swift flick of the wrist. There was an awful noise—a kind of gurk—followed by a groan and a large thud. The demon was down with that one well-timed shot. 

Letting out a breath, Ree got to her feet. “See? Not just a pretty face.”

@escapedartgeek​ | title; do you need some assistance? (Ree & Zora) | cont. from here

     It was her fault. Generally speaking, she didn’t perform spells on a whim. She had quite an array of abilities that nullified the need for spellcasting, but now and again Ree wanted to do something… different. And teleportation was very different. It required concentration, the right words, and a great deal of intention. She thought she had those—she really did—but whether her intentions were ill or her concentration weak she would never know.

     The spell dropped her far from where she intended to go, leaving her disheveled and disoriented. She blinked several times, peering at the stranger with dark, bleary eyes. Then she turned, leaned over, and heaved. Her stomach was empty and nothing came up, but the nausea was strong and lingered. 

@mcsaiccfmuses​ sent: ❛ how many times are we going to keep meeting like this? ❜ (Ree and Diego)

    She blinked a couple of times, her dark eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness and to him, the guy she somehow kept encountering when she least expected it. Faint annoyance crossed her face before she sighed and hefted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. 

@murderousbitch​ sent:  “The first blow to the head was self defense. The other three blows after that were probably a little murderous.” (Ree)

     A little murderous? Quite murderous, she thought. The Defiler--demon, Ree reminded herself--was dead at their feet. Four blows had been effective to end its life. The woman must be quite strong. For a second, she wondered if she was a witch, able of great feats of strength like this one a regular basis. She dismissed that thought, though. She hadn’t yet found many witches on Earth, at least not the ones she’d grown to know and understand from Scintil. 

     She could be a demon, however. She’d come across those far more often in the few months she’d been in this world. 

      But, Ree supposed it didn’t matter at the moment. She’d have to hold back on the questions.

      “It started it,” she said. “It seems only right that you finished it. and you came out of it okay.” She brushed her braid across her shoulder and tucked her hands into her leather jacket. She couldn’t do it, she realized. She had to ask. “Why did it start it?”

@harbingercfdeath​ sent:  “Is this your wallet?” (Ree)

     “Hmm?” Ree didn’t glance up from the book before her. Earth history was quite a fascinating subject, when she found the time to devote to reading for once. It was hard to tear herself away from the page, but she did, marking her page and the line she left off with a finger.