to rally. to medusa, those words have never been anything but a call to arms. she has difficulty understanding its meaning in modern practices. “you seem afraid of this. you will be harmed for protesting?”
she doesn’t bother stopping a small grin from forming. “trust me, i am far worse without the disguises. may your god protect you from ever finding out why.”
‘ i have no god, as you say, but that is no matter if you’re sympathetic to the cause. ’ this is the first item she favors response to, dull hues flickering across the crowd with muted agitation - there’s a subtle, delirious undercurrent running through those gathered; threatening to spill into true violence. undoubtedly, spelling the end of the so-called peaceful resistance.
‘ they wished me to speak today - i could be imprisoned for that. ’