[AW] a plague on both your houses

[Apolonia]

I CAN SEE THE FUTURE, IT'S A REAL DARK PLACE -

It’s unlike her to come here, but then again it’s unlike her to do anything but fight.

Even though the street Apolonia pitches through is peaceful, quiet, even, she twirls the hurlbat at her side consistently and listens to it cut the air in ribbons, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh through the warm wind. Spring is here and in the streets the snow has finally started to melt, trickling water over the grimy cobblestone. O winds her way through downtown with an easy step and picks her way over obstacles without hesitation. Overhead the sun winks in the sky, turns the places where Apolonia is not touched by the soot of her father to a bright, blinding, rich gold.

She does not think much about the world around her except for the heat on her skin and the solid, marble click of her hooves against the stone: what else is there to think about? For all her youth and foolishness Apolonia is still hard-headed, and she finds it easy enough to turn her thoughts away from anything uncalled for. Instead she focuses on the feeling of her black hair hot against her neck, taut muscles working away under her skin, head lifted from her chest to watch for the shop she’s heard so much about.

That third eye - watchful, brazen, unblinking - remains wholly hidden underneath a lock of onyx hair.

O pushes her way into the tea shop with one rangy shoulder, fluid and narrow enough to squeeze inside without much effort. An aureate kind of dust floats through the air and chokes her with scent - jasmine, green tea, black and fruit. She’s surprised to see someone already reclined on the rug in the center of the room, and for a moment pauses, unsure what, exactly, is being offered, but in the tradition of her stupid, stupid family, steps forward.

Ah, she lilts. Hello.