Log: Griffin & Mars
Mars? She slept a lot. Blame the surgeries or the maladjusted brain chemistry or all of the hours that she spent plotting the demise of those that had ever hurt her and her's. Even so, even in dreams, she wasn't immune to the smell of bacon. Smokey and haunting, it invaded to chase away the dreams of Valkyrie vengeance and fire. It seemed to her that there'd been a voice in the night, a woman's voice reading a terrible sing-song story to her, but it wasn't a memorable dream… more like an echo that drifted further away into deep space when she regained consciousness.
It was light now, gold streamed through the window near her bed, and Mars opened her eyes. She didn't move or stretch, but just opened her eyes in a slow and assessing blink. She hadn't moved yet, not that she could tell, so she wasn't sure that Griffin was aware of her. His attention seemed wholly fastened on the book in his hands.
She could tell that he hadn't been here too long, the plate nearby was still warm, maybe a fifteen-minute-lukewarm at best. "What are you reading?" Her voice had its variances, she could be one hell of a harpy, but in the moment the sound was cotton-soft. Musically pretty, maybe a little sad. Mostly, she sounded sleepy. Griffin was always reading something, and while she didn't have the time or patience for pages, she liked to know the stories.
Although she'd asked the question aloud, her hands came up to her chest to begin their wordless conversation.