(no subject)
DOES THIS REALLY NEED A CUT
In which Nike and Simca have a date. Or something similar.
Messerschmidt was singing today.
It was rare for him to, she noted with that wry smile, hands brushing through long pink hair that curled around her body, fluttered and spun, whipping around her like tails of birds and the wind that caressed (though there was no wind in their territory. no, only when she willed it.). But her baby swallow was particularly energetic, warbling and chirping like some ordinary songbird and it just made the girl laugh, letting him climb onto her finger and kissing soft blue feathers so lovingly. If he was happy, so was she.
Though of course, life had been relatively easy for her and her team -- victory after victory after victory, and while she couldn't say that she condoled the fighting, the battling for territory and property and full-out violence, she enjoyed being the one on top. She liked being noticed, admired, idolized, and known for the King that she was and the leader of the strongest team in the area. No, in the country.
Well, co-leader anyways.
She had to give credit to him though. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't be on the battlefield, riding side by side like the complements that they were. She had many things to thank him for -- setting up the team, asking her to join him, letting his brother be her Tuner (not that he was needed, but Ine always asked for help for something). So yes, life was relatively good. And Messerschmidt was declaring this. Simca hummed, wheels spinning as she rolled through the large expanse that was their general sitting room (passing the Tuning chair, the couch where they hung out on), cross-marked eyes glancing around.
(Messerschmidt continued to sing.)
She hummed along still, bird on her finger, with her own words -- name -- twittering, "Sora~ Sora~ Come out and see me! ♥" Bird chirps accentuated her words, made them echo, ring, and she only spun on her heels, delighted. Ah, today was going to be a good day. The swallow spoke.
In which Nike and Simca have a date. Or something similar.
Messerschmidt was singing today.
It was rare for him to, she noted with that wry smile, hands brushing through long pink hair that curled around her body, fluttered and spun, whipping around her like tails of birds and the wind that caressed (though there was no wind in their territory. no, only when she willed it.). But her baby swallow was particularly energetic, warbling and chirping like some ordinary songbird and it just made the girl laugh, letting him climb onto her finger and kissing soft blue feathers so lovingly. If he was happy, so was she.
Though of course, life had been relatively easy for her and her team -- victory after victory after victory, and while she couldn't say that she condoled the fighting, the battling for territory and property and full-out violence, she enjoyed being the one on top. She liked being noticed, admired, idolized, and known for the King that she was and the leader of the strongest team in the area. No, in the country.
Well, co-leader anyways.
She had to give credit to him though. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't be on the battlefield, riding side by side like the complements that they were. She had many things to thank him for -- setting up the team, asking her to join him, letting his brother be her Tuner (not that he was needed, but Ine always asked for help for something). So yes, life was relatively good. And Messerschmidt was declaring this. Simca hummed, wheels spinning as she rolled through the large expanse that was their general sitting room (passing the Tuning chair, the couch where they hung out on), cross-marked eyes glancing around.
(Messerschmidt continued to sing.)
She hummed along still, bird on her finger, with her own words -- name -- twittering, "Sora~ Sora~ Come out and see me! ♥" Bird chirps accentuated her words, made them echo, ring, and she only spun on her heels, delighted. Ah, today was going to be a good day. The swallow spoke.