I call her the devil
cause she makes me wanna sin
Shaytan begged and pleaded and swore to be a good little Chamberling once she got out toyboxfuntime hell.If she ever got out of there.
And while she would much rather be the capricious type who goes back on their word because of a whim, Princess Nerissa is fucking terrifying and she isn’t willing to tempt whatever power sent her to the alternate universe. She will not give it any reasons. No reasons whatesoever. Nope. Nuh-uh. Shaytan will work hard now, they’ll all see.
Alas, it seems that the ordeal has affected Shaytan more than she knows - or wants to admit. She has yet to look at her reflection in the water, and if she did, she might find herself disgusting. Huge. Crimson flesh, with a white and blue streaked mane and tail. She looks like someone took a couple of buckets of paint to her, in an attempt to cover up her freckles. Or someone knew she had a secret bloodlust and called her out on it, perhaps intending to give her a scarlet letter for shame - and then forgetting all sense of self-restraint. It would be fitting, for Shaytan herself seems to have very little self-restraing. Full of Id, lacking conversation skills, fixated on bunnies and blood, and a sense of humor that has yet to be discovered.
Yes, yes… she’ll be the perfect red-headed stepchild of the Chamber. The one secretly in love with her stepmother.
Her hunger is all-encompassing, turning the dark monster inside of her (literally - she's pregnant, and doesn't seem to realize it, nor remember the act itself. But something in her demands to be fed) into some rabid, stumbling creature that knows only one thing: kill bunnies. Consume bunnies. Nevermind that this may or may not be what a good Chamberling does, she has staved it off long enough and like an addict, the need is both psychological and physical.This first part, the hunt, it takes all her concentration and willpower to stand still in the Meadow and let them come to her. Every success is a test of her skills, a testament to how long she can hold back her quivering, aching legs (which did standing become so tiresome? was it before or after the fire?) for the trap to spring shut. But oh, that crunch is sigh-inducing and bliss floods her mouth. She can only do so much with her blunt teeth (it is not the flesh she wants, just the metallic tang), and she often wished she had sharper teeth.
All the better to eat you with my dear…
In her satiated, post-feeding bliss (and with a mouth that is only slightly darker than the rest of her, though she reeks of blood), Shaytan wanders the field aimlessly. She has no concept of personal space, especially when she feels so damn good. She is an inappropriate drunk amongst a sober crowd. To the Chamber! To the Chamber! To Straia...
God help the child within her.
Shaytan
and every time she knocks
I can't help but let her in