“You know, I’ve never understood that. How being named for a woman’s nethers is somehow more grievous than any other insult. Seems to me calling someone after a man’s privates is worse. I mean, what do you picture when you hear a fellow called a cock?’ Tric shrugged, befuddled at the strange turn in conversation. ‘You imagine an oaf, don’t you?’ Mia continued. ‘Someone so full of wank there’s no room for wits. A slow-minded bastard who struts about full of spunk and piss, completely ignorant of how he looks to others.’ An exhalation of clove-sweet grey into the air between them. ‘Cock is just another word for “fool”. But you call someone a cunt, well …’ The girl smiled. ‘You’re implying a sense of malice there. An intent. Malevolent and self-aware. Don’t think I name Consul Scaeva a cunt to gift him insult. Cunts have brains, Don Tric. Cunts have teeth. Someone calls you a cunt, you take it as a compliment. As a sign that folk believe you’re not to be lightly fucked with.’ A shrug. ‘I think they call that irony.’ Mia sniffed, staring at the wastes laid out below them. ‘Truth is, there’s no difference between your nethers and mine. Aside from the obvious, of course. But one doesn’t carry any more weight than the other. Why should what’s between my legs be considered any smarter or stupider, any worse or better? It’s all just meat, Don Tric. In the end, it’s all just food for worms. Just like Duomo, Remus, and Scaeva will be.’ One last drag, long and deep, as if drawing the very life from her smoke. ‘But I’d still rather be called a cunt than a cock any turn.’ The girl sighed grey, crushed her cigarillo out with her boot heel. Spat into the wind. And just like that, young Tric was in love.”
― Nevernight
― Nevernight
“Sometimes weakness is a weapon. If you're smart enough to use it.”
― Nevernight
― Nevernight
“You can take the girl from the gutter, but not the gutter from the girl. Sadly, the same can be said about the glitter.”
― Nevernight
― Nevernight
“It's like these fellows who name their swords 'Skullbane' or 'Souldrinker' or somesuch." Tric tied his saltlocks into a matted knot atop his head. "Tossers, all."
"If I were going to name my blade," Mia said thoughtfully, "I'd call it 'Fluffy.'"
Tric snorted with laughter. "Fluffy?"
"Byss, yes," the girl nodded. "Think of the terror you'd instill. Being bested by a foe wielding a sword called Souldrinker... that you could live with. Imagine the shame of having the piss smacked out of you by a blade called Fluffy.”
― Nevernight
"If I were going to name my blade," Mia said thoughtfully, "I'd call it 'Fluffy.'"
Tric snorted with laughter. "Fluffy?"
"Byss, yes," the girl nodded. "Think of the terror you'd instill. Being bested by a foe wielding a sword called Souldrinker... that you could live with. Imagine the shame of having the piss smacked out of you by a blade called Fluffy.”
― Nevernight
“The pair stood watching each other, still as statues, moments ticking by like hours as the gale howled about them.
"You have very good ears, sir." she finally said.
"You have better feet, Pale Daughter. I heard nothing."
"Then how?"
The boy offered a dimpled smile. "You stink of cigarillo smoke. Cloves, I think."
"That's impossible. I'm upwind from you."
The boy glanced at the shadows moving like snakes around his feet.
"Seems to be raining impossible in these parts.”
― Nevernight
"You have very good ears, sir." she finally said.
"You have better feet, Pale Daughter. I heard nothing."
"Then how?"
The boy offered a dimpled smile. "You stink of cigarillo smoke. Cloves, I think."
"That's impossible. I'm upwind from you."
The boy glanced at the shadows moving like snakes around his feet.
"Seems to be raining impossible in these parts.”
― Nevernight
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