02-12-2011, 04:51 PM
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You're fine! <3 This is an awkward post.[/html]
The wait was minimal, though it didn't really matter. Time was something she had in abundance, and she'd already figured out that patience was a virtue. Something to that effect anyway. Eying the large, lightly colored woman with apprehension as she approached, Agony wasn't quite sure what to make of her overall appearance. She looked almost feral, with those daggers at her side, but the warmth with which she received her father was helpful. Their hug lasted long enough to denote friendship, maybe something more. She couldn't tell. Either way, this woman probably wasn't a threat. She licked her charcoal lips nervously. Dealing with adults was easy so long as you were polite and didn't speak out of turn, but there was always a certain element of unknowing. Not knowing the absolute perfect thing to say, what they wanted to hear. Someday she would know all the right answers by heart, and use them. Her father was posed a question, of who's child she was.
In a moment of role-reversal, she nudged the man lightly with her nose, urging him to answer with honesty and haste. "Mine," Came the eventual answer, to which the dust colored child might have beamed if she had it in her. At times like this she almost felt like a sociopath, though she lacked the homicidal rage and capability to bring harm. Most children were excited to be acknowledged, to be claimed, right? Turning her eyes between the two for a moment, she wondered if the man would introduce her or not. It seemed unlikely, since she was always doing it for herself anyway. "I'm Agony," Had she known it was a word, she could have laughed. Not at the potential meaning, but because it almost fit. If she hadn't been so reluctant to feel that particular emotion. Agony; she didn't want it, couldn't stand it.
For now, Agony felt no need to tack on a surname. If her father knew this woman as well as he seemed to, she would know their last name, and that she would share it with him. "She has two siblings by Cinder; she was executed," Turning a blind eye to the following conversation, the apologies and condolences she expected to hear, the child realized she was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. Moving on was impossible when everyone continued to apologize for things they had no control over. Abruptly, she felt the need to stress that point. "Don't say you're sorry," She eyed her father with anger; she hoped he didn't say anything to contradict her.