it was a blood-soaked feast
that never ceased
that never ceased
At first, he feels her in his subconscious. She would be met with resistance - the innards of his existence now unfolded and laid out for another to see did not strike the man as an easy thing to allow. Even as he agrees to her terms, meek and calm to allow her full control, naturally he reacts to expel her - as any mortal would do. She reaches out for the furthest parts of his mind (what would she find there?), and though he resists and the pulling of her fingers are unnatural and obtrusive, she would be much too powerful for him to be able to overcome. Perhaps outside of his mind he would have made a cunning foe, but as she wraps herself into his brainstem and spinal cord he is sure she knows she has the upper hand. The bone creation falls to the floor of the forest, lifeless and without a mind to control each of its movements.
She calls the water to him despite his thoughts not directing them. His body is not his own; he is merely a spectator, and where he would have snorted angrily and pawed heavily at the damp undergrowth at the idea of someone else controlling the water, his body remains still. The water recognizes its master and without a mind of its own, it succumbs to whoever wields its leash. The dampness of the mist that surrounds him is somehow comforting however, despite feeling locked in a cage. He wonders when she exits (if she exits) if he will feel freer than he had ever been and what poor victim will be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But there is no time to think about that now. No time to think at all, actually, because someone else’s thoughts are there and it startles the stallion. A woman, the stranger’s voice purrs, and though he has no control over her idea to find Nexu, he does not find himself with fright riddling his consciousness as she begins to move in his body. Nexu would not fall for such a thinly veiled trick; the armored woman (his armored woman) would easily tear him apart before the stranger could use his powers to hurt her.
It is evident that this powerful stranger merely had entered him for a silly, girlish game (there is no promise of power, nothing of the sort) and somehow, does not stir. His consciousness festers, rabid and violent against her control, but there is no panic in his attempts.
Maugrim hears the familiar click of her voice, though it is not in the same tone that normally comes when she greets him. She is menacing in the shadows of the forest, eyes glinting with rage. If he could have smiled, he would have. The two somehow know each other and Nexu is able to recognize the stranger easily that now keeps him prisoner in his own mind. He wonders idly who will die first at this stranger’s hand - himself or Nexu?
She calls the water to him despite his thoughts not directing them. His body is not his own; he is merely a spectator, and where he would have snorted angrily and pawed heavily at the damp undergrowth at the idea of someone else controlling the water, his body remains still. The water recognizes its master and without a mind of its own, it succumbs to whoever wields its leash. The dampness of the mist that surrounds him is somehow comforting however, despite feeling locked in a cage. He wonders when she exits (if she exits) if he will feel freer than he had ever been and what poor victim will be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But there is no time to think about that now. No time to think at all, actually, because someone else’s thoughts are there and it startles the stallion. A woman, the stranger’s voice purrs, and though he has no control over her idea to find Nexu, he does not find himself with fright riddling his consciousness as she begins to move in his body. Nexu would not fall for such a thinly veiled trick; the armored woman (his armored woman) would easily tear him apart before the stranger could use his powers to hurt her.
It is evident that this powerful stranger merely had entered him for a silly, girlish game (there is no promise of power, nothing of the sort) and somehow, does not stir. His consciousness festers, rabid and violent against her control, but there is no panic in his attempts.
Maugrim hears the familiar click of her voice, though it is not in the same tone that normally comes when she greets him. She is menacing in the shadows of the forest, eyes glinting with rage. If he could have smiled, he would have. The two somehow know each other and Nexu is able to recognize the stranger easily that now keeps him prisoner in his own mind. He wonders idly who will die first at this stranger’s hand - himself or Nexu?
m a u g r i m.
@[violence] @[Nexu]
i am okay with anything physically happening to maugrim if it comes to it, besides death! <3