09-30-2017, 10:12 AM
THANA.
(as black as your soul)
”Is that all you’ve got?” she says with a drawl, her dreary eye roaming between the two –
It is all but a snarl now, the wolf that lay beneath the surface of black and indigo rousing with delight – it yearned to lunge at her, to stifle her saccharine pitch (dreadful tone of voice – feigning a sweetness that is not that, though she had always preferred the bitter, metallic copper to sugar). She is focused upon Gryffen, and she can feel the remnants of her manipulative magic seeping through him.
Oh, if she only knew what she was attempting to do to Gryffen, she might laugh, she might cackle at the sheer absurdity of it. He does not fear anything. Furthermore, to use fear – the most powerful emotion of all – above anger, far beyond joy – it does not cause one to cower; it is a motivator. Fight or flight – and oh how she longs to show the Queen fear, to spill her sordid, filthy blood to the dry but supple ground below, to have her trembling beneath her and begging for a life she would never let her keep –
”I’ve skinned those with sharper wit than the two of you combined. We want your kingdom. We want you, bending at the knee, begging for protection – for forgiveness. I want your blood.” She murmurs, a darkness seeping into her voice as her gaze is steadied upon Heda as the sharpened line of her carnivorous teeth are revealed, bared between each arsenic-laced word – ”Your blood, but that is not what he desires most – but when he has tired of you, and tired of your pathetic little kingdom, I will take your throat between my teeth and I will tear it out myself.”
It is all but a snarl now, the wolf that lay beneath the surface of black and indigo rousing with delight – it yearned to lunge at her, to stifle her saccharine pitch (dreadful tone of voice – feigning a sweetness that is not that, though she had always preferred the bitter, metallic copper to sugar). She is focused upon Gryffen, and she can feel the remnants of her manipulative magic seeping through him.
Oh, if she only knew what she was attempting to do to Gryffen, she might laugh, she might cackle at the sheer absurdity of it. He does not fear anything. Furthermore, to use fear – the most powerful emotion of all – above anger, far beyond joy – it does not cause one to cower; it is a motivator. Fight or flight – and oh how she longs to show the Queen fear, to spill her sordid, filthy blood to the dry but supple ground below, to have her trembling beneath her and begging for a life she would never let her keep –
”I’ve skinned those with sharper wit than the two of you combined. We want your kingdom. We want you, bending at the knee, begging for protection – for forgiveness. I want your blood.” She murmurs, a darkness seeping into her voice as her gaze is steadied upon Heda as the sharpened line of her carnivorous teeth are revealed, bared between each arsenic-laced word – ”Your blood, but that is not what he desires most – but when he has tired of you, and tired of your pathetic little kingdom, I will take your throat between my teeth and I will tear it out myself.”
No permission is given to manipulate her emotions or her mental capacity until discussed privately due to the powerplay above. Physical attack, of course, is fine and will be met with enthusiasm.
Please feel free to PM me if you'd like to run something by me; I'm happy to discuss!
