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“Have you been eating sand again?' [Cam asked]
'I haven't eaten sand in months', Nona protested, then more truthfully: 'Weeks,' and more truthfully than that: 'one week.”
― Nona the Ninth
'I haven't eaten sand in months', Nona protested, then more truthfully: 'Weeks,' and more truthfully than that: 'one week.”
― Nona the Ninth
“Don’t worry, kiddie, she said tiredly. I’ll keep loving you—my problem is I don’t know how to stop.”
― Nona the Ninth
― Nona the Ninth
“You’re only boobs, hair, and talk, Crown,” said the guard.
“No,” said Crown. “I’m boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a sword hand.”
― Nona the Ninth
“No,” said Crown. “I’m boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a sword hand.”
― Nona the Ninth
“What do you think is sexy?” said Nona, in her normal voice.
Pyrrha seemed pleased to think about something different, and waited until the bubbles were getting really big before she took the spatula and slid it under a rising patty, flipping it over. Nona had come up by her elbow to watch.
“Do you want to know what I really think is sexy, or what I’d tell someone if they asked and I wanted to impress them?”
Nona was pleased Pyrrha understood.
“The first one.”
“Landmine people,” said Pyrrha, and when she saw Nona’s brows cross in confusion, she said: “Some people were put into the universe to rig it to explode, then walk away… I always fell for that.”
Nona thought she got it, but was unsure on a few points.
“But you can’t really tell that about someone when you first look at them.”
“Oh, you can,” said Pyrrha. “You haven’t looked for it.” She flipped over another pikelet, looked grave and intelligent for a moment, and then said: “I mean, also redheads. Love a redhead.”
Apart from Pyrrha, whose hair was a very deep dark russet, Honesty was the only redhead that Nona knew, and Honesty had big, pallid blue eyes that he could make float in different direction, when one wasn’t smushed. He also had skin like a horrible ghost’s. You could see all the veins in his eyelids. Nona said, “Okay. I don’t think redheads are sexy.”
“What? Hang on,” said Camilla, opening the door—no, Palamedes, opening the door, busy buttoning himself into Camilla’s jacket—“That’s a very interesting thing you just said, Nona. Let me write that down. Is that pikelets Pyrrha? You’re a legend.”
Nona wondered how Palamedes couldn’t see the hitch in Pyrrha’s shoulder, nor all the crinkles in her posture or her clothes that screamed PARK…PARK…PARK…, but took her moment.
“Palamedes, what do you think is sexy?”
“Those little outfits nurses wear,” said Palamedes promptly.
So Camilla had been lying, after all.”
― Nona the Ninth
Pyrrha seemed pleased to think about something different, and waited until the bubbles were getting really big before she took the spatula and slid it under a rising patty, flipping it over. Nona had come up by her elbow to watch.
“Do you want to know what I really think is sexy, or what I’d tell someone if they asked and I wanted to impress them?”
Nona was pleased Pyrrha understood.
“The first one.”
“Landmine people,” said Pyrrha, and when she saw Nona’s brows cross in confusion, she said: “Some people were put into the universe to rig it to explode, then walk away… I always fell for that.”
Nona thought she got it, but was unsure on a few points.
“But you can’t really tell that about someone when you first look at them.”
“Oh, you can,” said Pyrrha. “You haven’t looked for it.” She flipped over another pikelet, looked grave and intelligent for a moment, and then said: “I mean, also redheads. Love a redhead.”
Apart from Pyrrha, whose hair was a very deep dark russet, Honesty was the only redhead that Nona knew, and Honesty had big, pallid blue eyes that he could make float in different direction, when one wasn’t smushed. He also had skin like a horrible ghost’s. You could see all the veins in his eyelids. Nona said, “Okay. I don’t think redheads are sexy.”
“What? Hang on,” said Camilla, opening the door—no, Palamedes, opening the door, busy buttoning himself into Camilla’s jacket—“That’s a very interesting thing you just said, Nona. Let me write that down. Is that pikelets Pyrrha? You’re a legend.”
Nona wondered how Palamedes couldn’t see the hitch in Pyrrha’s shoulder, nor all the crinkles in her posture or her clothes that screamed PARK…PARK…PARK…, but took her moment.
“Palamedes, what do you think is sexy?”
“Those little outfits nurses wear,” said Palamedes promptly.
So Camilla had been lying, after all.”
― Nona the Ninth
“The Aphelian grabs the front of my tunic, then seizes Buri's arm before she can react and uses it to slap me across the face. Hard. "There," she says. "Now you've hit him, and I've perceived you as a threat. Irritate me again and we'll revisit the argument." She steps away and gestures to the clearing with a devilish grin. "Carry on.”
― Omen of Ice
― Omen of Ice
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