10-28-2017, 03:59 PM
ajatar
devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest;
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress.
Deimos.angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress.
She blinks at the name - hard. Her face is a mix of emotions - realization, hatred, fear, acceptance. How deep the worm hole into her horrific family history go? How far would she have to go back to see a decent, normal member of her family? Were they all like her mother and grandsire - fit for nothing more than a lengthy execution? She feels the tendrils of the disease she wrought fall away from her, dropping to the ground, dissipating into the dirt. She can sense it even though she can't see it, leaving the air and returning it to its disease free state. A few more of her scales have popped off and revealed a pock mark underneath, but she remains mostly unharmed in comparison.
"Him," she breathes, her anger replaced with deflation. She's at loss of what else to say, but meets Longclaws eye as he says it - kill us both.
Could she?
She looks down at the sloughing, the bloodied spittle, the ravaged pox...and she knows she did it. She knows that part of her longed for the sensation as it coursed through her veins and left her in a great rush of power. Isn't that what Deimos wanted? And Harmonia always chased? Power. Pure and simple. And she had it - the ability to wield disease. Could she kill her only friend? Would she?
"How far is Nerine? I can send for help...we might make it..." She is thinking aloud about things she doesn't know. Would anyone even help her? Could they make it before...before...