03-29-2018, 05:13 PM
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
She calls to me, asking me questions that I haven't answers to, as if it were my fault, as if I could do anything more than I did. As the mare crumples to the earth to struggle against the demon inside of her, I drop my head to the earth, completely disjointed; her cries fall on deaf ears, for truly I am done. Within the span of thirty hours, I have not birthed just one being that should not truly exist, but two. My psyche lays at my feet like shattered glass, and my hands are bleeding already; I haven't the energy to begin collecting the pieces. I haven't the life to save myself, never mind her.
Its voice is what awakens me to reality once more; calling my name in its slippery mind-tongue, causing me to jolt upright with hate and disgust at its sounding. My ears press back upon sighting the hideous creature, its nostrils outstretched towards my skin. Snarling, I lash out towards the newborn, the hate inside of me overriding the motherly instinct that tells me to clean it: but this demon is no child, and no, I am no goddamn mother. I birthed nothing. And I will be no mother.
The corner of corner of his nostril (the only part not scaled enough to resist my fanged-teeth) tastes like ash, where there ought to be blood. But in the end, she is not here to kill what she brought into Beqanna; perhaps one day, but as the thing leers at me with its voided sockets, I gag. Vomit courses through me and onto the earth; my vision blurs; he's got control of me again. Even in reality, I cannot escape him: or perhaps, I cannot escape myself.
What do we do now.
I look up, barely seeing Hestia, barely able to recognize any particle of this existence. "Leave." It's all I can bring myself to say. Shattered, my body collapses to the earth, and there I lay, deaf to whatever they say to me: drowned by my own worthlessness.
Its voice is what awakens me to reality once more; calling my name in its slippery mind-tongue, causing me to jolt upright with hate and disgust at its sounding. My ears press back upon sighting the hideous creature, its nostrils outstretched towards my skin. Snarling, I lash out towards the newborn, the hate inside of me overriding the motherly instinct that tells me to clean it: but this demon is no child, and no, I am no goddamn mother. I birthed nothing. And I will be no mother.
The corner of corner of his nostril (the only part not scaled enough to resist my fanged-teeth) tastes like ash, where there ought to be blood. But in the end, she is not here to kill what she brought into Beqanna; perhaps one day, but as the thing leers at me with its voided sockets, I gag. Vomit courses through me and onto the earth; my vision blurs; he's got control of me again. Even in reality, I cannot escape him: or perhaps, I cannot escape myself.
What do we do now.
I look up, barely seeing Hestia, barely able to recognize any particle of this existence. "Leave." It's all I can bring myself to say. Shattered, my body collapses to the earth, and there I lay, deaf to whatever they say to me: drowned by my own worthlessness.
Kagerus
sweet nothing
So Kag got fiesty, feel free to not include the maimed nostril in his character development, but Kag felt the need to do something mean because she hates the world rn hahaha. Plus a scar would be badass. @[Hestia]
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver