The science fiction rollplay for members of Flight of Fancy.
Zalla glared at the floor. She would rather glare at something else, but this was the only provided target.
Finally the door opened and Mystic walked in. "Hello Zalla." she said icilly.
Yes, this day Zalla had been dreading every since the day she found out she was a blesser. She had to talk to Mystic.
Truth was, now that Trine felt better, she was taking more charge. She decided that Mystic and Zalla worked together very well when the had to (hence her wounds being taken care of), but they wouldn't ever be able to work together again unless they "talked".
So, how did she arrange it? She locked Zalla into her room, and commanded Mystic to get in there.
"Shut your hole." she muttered.
Zalla said nothing for a few minutes. When it was obvious that Mystic wasn't saying anything, she tried again. "I promise never to command you to do anything again, unless of extreme importance." she said, fast, hoping that Mystic wouldn't cut in. She didn't.
"You shouldn't command anyone who is your elder..." she trailed off.
"Mystic! Please, I am a Blesser, but-"
She was interrupted by a stream of curses. Finally, she said, "I don't want to know that you're a Blesser! I know that already, and I'm reminded enough!"
Zalla lowered her head. What was there to say? Zalla wanted to get along with her sister. She really respected her, but.
"Mystic, you're so freaking difficult!!" burst out Zalla. "Why do you always have to be like that?"
Outside the door, Trine leaned against a wall. Shouting now came from both sides. She smiled. "This is going well, Sebille, don't you think?"