Desolation comes upon the sky // Any

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

She goes, in the middle of the night, careful not to wake her slumbering husband (though a part of her knows that he'd feel her leave even if they were worlds apart). They'd been trying for a child once more, but the enthusiasm and the flame is lackluster this autumn. Their sex life couldn't be better - or kinkier - almost all of the time, but during breeding season, the act of intercourse made her a little sick. Not because of anything Toni was doing, god no - but the fear of infertility loomed over Scorch's head like a guillotine. Despite Toni's best efforts to be realistic and comforting at the same time, for once, her couldn't remove the rain cloud from over her head. But as always, he stood by her side with an umbrella, faithful and serving to the last.

How she loved him.

Tonight, however, she needed time beneath the storm clouds to find out how she truly felt. The air of this foreign land hit her hard, leaving her with a strange, voided sensation across every pore of her mutilated skin. The stars above shone gently into the barren not-kingdom, guiding her steps though she too could if she wanted to. But for now, she left aside her magiks, preferring total and true solitude. If she didn't find herself soon, the journey back to herself would be long, and perhaps impossible; she still owed her allegiance to Nerine, her life and her servitude. Without some kind of catharsis, she would lose herself to the storm; for as always, she is not the strong warrior she presents as, but instead the lost little girl who's life is never as she thought it to be. She was never brave, never strong, never mighty: she was only herself, a lump of flesh trapped inside skin so burnt that who she was before is now utterly unrecognizable.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

Scorch muse has been low lately, and I think it's cause I've not let her express herself. So here - someone come be sad with my poor lil rat.