[ Medusa has suffered many indignities in her life. She's had her son ripped from her arms and declared unperson; her husband has treated her like a dog in front of the entire court. She's been left in the ruins of her own kingdom, abandoned by her family to rebuild on her own. And yet, in that moment, she might almost think it all pales in comparison to watching a woman throw up on her hair.
A charitable person would forgive Hawke for not realizing the sand she's puking on is actually some of the sandy mass of Medusa's thoroughly disgusting hair. And a more charitable person might simply let it go on the basis that the ocean is right there.
Medusa is not a charitable person. ]
Hawke!
[ It isn't like she's more than twenty feet away. How could Hawke reasonably know? But Medusa doesn't care about reason. Medusa doesn't care about anything but how revolting this is. ]
Could you, for once, just contain yourself?
[ As in, her disgusting bodily fluids. The puke on that now twitching mass of sand as Medusa tries futilely to maybe, hopefully, just shake it off. ]
welcome to the jungle
A charitable person would forgive Hawke for not realizing the sand she's puking on is actually some of the sandy mass of Medusa's thoroughly disgusting hair. And a more charitable person might simply let it go on the basis that the ocean is right there.
Medusa is not a charitable person. ]
Hawke!
[ It isn't like she's more than twenty feet away. How could Hawke reasonably know? But Medusa doesn't care about reason. Medusa doesn't care about anything but how revolting this is. ]
Could you, for once, just contain yourself?
[ As in, her disgusting bodily fluids. The puke on that now twitching mass of sand as Medusa tries futilely to maybe, hopefully, just shake it off. ]