jamie
01-31-2021, 03:05 PM
Jamie
She had birthed it. It had come from her, sprung forth from her loins, killed and dissolved into the shadows. What a thrill it is!
He closes his freakish eyes then to better picture it, this thing she had brought back with her from beyond the reaches of Death. How feverishly it had killed. But he can only see it from the perspective of the dead stallion, he cannot go back far enough to see the way it came into this world, the way she had made it so. There is some mournful pang then before he opens his eyes again and turns his focus to her.
He can do anything, he only has to think it.
So he goes to her because he wants to know. It is such a deeply personal thing, though he has no concept of this as he approaches her, extending his nose to touch her. Will she let him in? Will she let him see? It does not occur to him that he could mine through her thoughts without touching her, though perhaps it is better that he does. The magic is still new and he likely would not have enough control over it to sift through her thoughts from a distance.
“Will you show me?” he rasps into her skin. He closes his eyes again, waiting to receive whatever images she will not hide from him. The birth, the thing seeking out its first victim, the pride of it all. What it must have felt like to know that she had brought such a destructive force into the world. It makes him wonder, too, if all of the things in the shadows had been birthed the same way.
He closes his freakish eyes then to better picture it, this thing she had brought back with her from beyond the reaches of Death. How feverishly it had killed. But he can only see it from the perspective of the dead stallion, he cannot go back far enough to see the way it came into this world, the way she had made it so. There is some mournful pang then before he opens his eyes again and turns his focus to her.
He can do anything, he only has to think it.
So he goes to her because he wants to know. It is such a deeply personal thing, though he has no concept of this as he approaches her, extending his nose to touch her. Will she let him in? Will she let him see? It does not occur to him that he could mine through her thoughts without touching her, though perhaps it is better that he does. The magic is still new and he likely would not have enough control over it to sift through her thoughts from a distance.
“Will you show me?” he rasps into her skin. He closes his eyes again, waiting to receive whatever images she will not hide from him. The birth, the thing seeking out its first victim, the pride of it all. What it must have felt like to know that she had brought such a destructive force into the world. It makes him wonder, too, if all of the things in the shadows had been birthed the same way.
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[Beyza]