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04-14-2015, 07:02 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-14-2015, 07:03 PM by Confutatis.)
CONFUTATIS
But we're talking kings and successions
She misses her children. So much it hurts to breathe. So she lathers herself beneath the burning sun, lets her magic caress and corrupt the life around her, dreams of relief and escape and seeing them, Nymeria and Volterra, happy and well. I should've known this was coming. And she should've slaughtered him (Gaucho), took her magic and sucked the life right out of him, until his skin sloughed from his bones and muscle unraveled and veins shriveled dry, until he was ash in the wind and a skull left staring on the ground. She paces, she moves, and every attempt to engage her (whether in conversation or action) is met with violent apathy and a lick of her magic.
For a season and a half now she hasn't spoken, not to anyone, her mind turning, turning, turning, a rat looking for the exit from the maze, until she runs dry of energy and slumbers for days.
Eyelids lash together and teeth snap and grind and she hurts because she told them to go away but she didn't expect them to and now she's alone with only her companion's mockery to accompany her.
And she sits in the sweltering heat with magic burning up around her and then when the sun slips down behind the horizon she begins to cry because there is nothing she can do. |
Join the Regime.
♛
♛
