021 • action

[grimreaping]

[ It's the middle of the night, and someone's not sleeping. But there are light footsteps on the rooftops, and a whisper of black cloth trailing just along the edge of your window as someone's checking up on you. Why tonight? You might have to ask, or guess. ]

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[ OOC: Dated to the night of the 19th. Kid is looking through windows like a

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[naltorian]

[ It's night, and so dark out. And someone is not in their bed... ]

[naltorian]

[ She destroys another set of decoys in clean swipes of the knife. One after another. Seems to become lazy. Her speed and her agility slows. By the last dummy, she only walks up to it, knife in her hand. She stops in front, knife held so poorly and lethargically that it's a crime to soldier status. ]

You've always wanted to see me like that, didn't you. [ She talks. It's dry and cynical. ] Slewing through enemies in Naltor's bloody sprocking name. [ She grabs the dummy around the neck and squeezes. ]

Daddy's little soldier. I'm your good little girl, and will forever toe the lines you've drawn for me. You sprocking zorker. [ She snaps up her knife and brings the blade to the fluffy dummy head. ] Children are your best resource.

[ She brings down the blade...but stops at the point where the tip of the knife would puncture the fabric. ] ...I hate you all the more for making me unable to destroy a decoy of you. Makes it that much harder when I can imagine your angry, disapproving face looking down on me. I really hated that, y'know?

[grimreaping]

[ It's quite a display, culminating in such a dramatic end, and Kid turns his head away, swallowing the hot flash of shame that grabs him. He has no right to be here, nor right to see this.

He forgets, because he is still a child, that there are far worse things than simply missing one's parent. This was a harsh reminder, and it scalds.

Kid turns on the branch and melts away into the darkness again. ]