06-16-2011, 11:34 PM
ooc +5
She'd been beaten to the new world by her brothers, one of whom managed to meet his end in the process. And though the shock visibly shook her, she was grateful to have heard it from the lips of another rather then stumbling across her sibling with her own eyes. Whatever grief, remorse, or anger was inspired by the news was either belated by the numbing effects of the shock or swallowed and pressed down into her narrow chest where she amassed and ignored the majority of sensations too uncomfortable to bare in public. Tender feelings were not for the eyes of strangers. The daunting task of reuniting with Sasha weighed heavy on her mind, but she'd cross that particularly perilous bridge when she came to it. For the time being, there was no shortage of challenges directly at hand.
Cotl was angry. That was plain enough to see, but whether the wrath issuing from him in torrents was for her or someone else, she couldn't be sure. Regardless, his tempered stance only strengthened the man's ability to conjure the memory of Lorelei. Giza had to call upon every last ounce of strength to not fold into an overly submissive quivering display as father and daughter bled together in her mind's eye. Old habits die hard, and it was not so long ago she still found herself under Lorelei's overbearing influence.
It was the drumming of the female's nails against bone that sobered her and spared her from making a fool of herself. It was an unnerving tick, one Giza couldn't help but fixate upon, ears twitching toward the hollow sons. There was a comfortable familiarity in her demeaning tones. The skull toting female gave the impression of a lead, of someone of significance - at least she spoke as if she were, and Giza was willing to wager her inclinations were correct. Had she not been certain the woman was so entirely entitled to her submission, she might have smirked that she knew nothing of what her father was, or that it was near impossible to say what she had to offer that the clan was lacking when she hadn't the slightest of the nature of their members or their talents. She wasn't so dense as to be unable to recognize when to swallow her wit.
"Stealth." She answered, craning her neck to take in the woman now looming above. "Speed. Slight of hand. Surveillance. It was my former place to observe, mostly the goings on of other clans, and return with that knowledge."
She omitted the part about how she was given the task because she was thought of as to small or useless to do anything else, and considered expendable were she caught. Her eyes reflexively darted back to the west, where she had her near run in with the shadows of a neighboring clan. She'd not be so bold as to ask for an opportunity to prove herself, but the desire weighed heavy in her chest. Little Giza was always eager to please.
She'd been beaten to the new world by her brothers, one of whom managed to meet his end in the process. And though the shock visibly shook her, she was grateful to have heard it from the lips of another rather then stumbling across her sibling with her own eyes. Whatever grief, remorse, or anger was inspired by the news was either belated by the numbing effects of the shock or swallowed and pressed down into her narrow chest where she amassed and ignored the majority of sensations too uncomfortable to bare in public. Tender feelings were not for the eyes of strangers. The daunting task of reuniting with Sasha weighed heavy on her mind, but she'd cross that particularly perilous bridge when she came to it. For the time being, there was no shortage of challenges directly at hand.
Cotl was angry. That was plain enough to see, but whether the wrath issuing from him in torrents was for her or someone else, she couldn't be sure. Regardless, his tempered stance only strengthened the man's ability to conjure the memory of Lorelei. Giza had to call upon every last ounce of strength to not fold into an overly submissive quivering display as father and daughter bled together in her mind's eye. Old habits die hard, and it was not so long ago she still found herself under Lorelei's overbearing influence.
It was the drumming of the female's nails against bone that sobered her and spared her from making a fool of herself. It was an unnerving tick, one Giza couldn't help but fixate upon, ears twitching toward the hollow sons. There was a comfortable familiarity in her demeaning tones. The skull toting female gave the impression of a lead, of someone of significance - at least she spoke as if she were, and Giza was willing to wager her inclinations were correct. Had she not been certain the woman was so entirely entitled to her submission, she might have smirked that she knew nothing of what her father was, or that it was near impossible to say what she had to offer that the clan was lacking when she hadn't the slightest of the nature of their members or their talents. She wasn't so dense as to be unable to recognize when to swallow her wit.
"Stealth." She answered, craning her neck to take in the woman now looming above. "Speed. Slight of hand. Surveillance. It was my former place to observe, mostly the goings on of other clans, and return with that knowledge."
She omitted the part about how she was given the task because she was thought of as to small or useless to do anything else, and considered expendable were she caught. Her eyes reflexively darted back to the west, where she had her near run in with the shadows of a neighboring clan. She'd not be so bold as to ask for an opportunity to prove herself, but the desire weighed heavy in her chest. Little Giza was always eager to please.