05-03-2021, 03:38 PM
I tsk again, a sad sound to fit the sad words. It feels right on my tongue. Sharp and clean and correct. A good sound. "Time is-" I proclaim with utmost certainty, "the best gift a mother can give her child." Yes. The best. Until other things get in the way. Life, love, trauma and disaster. Any number of things.
My trees are drab, it's true, but I am confident that their fiery plumage will return. We will destroy the decaying, the dying, in favor of the new. It will make us stronger, in the end.
"You're a handsome thing, you know. It would be a pity to waste such a face on the emptiness of the meadow. It's so much easier to make others listen when you're beautiful," I muse aloud, my thoughts threatening an ungrounded tangent. I want to touch his face, his neck, to feel the hot blood rushing beneath his skin. However, I refrain. My own skin is perpetually cold, a side effect of long term blood loss. It is unpleasant to me, I can't imagine it would do anything for anyone else, either.
My smile returns at his question, giddy as a girl in spring when he delves into my prompting. "Oh darling, I assure you I don't care. Rape, pillage, do something heroic: it's all the same in the end. All I ask is that you don't be boring." A pause weighs on my tongue as I seek out his burning eyes once more."Boredom is something I simply don't abide with." There's no latent magic lying in wait this time. Only the gleam of danger others would perhaps describe to him later.
Making my own entertainment tends to be a messy business. My face twitches at his declaring one talent. Cruelty, what a perverse thing to claim! One delicate brow raises intrigued, lips pursed and contemplative. "We'll see how true that is." I promise, anticipation rising in my chest.
@[Obscene]
My trees are drab, it's true, but I am confident that their fiery plumage will return. We will destroy the decaying, the dying, in favor of the new. It will make us stronger, in the end.
"You're a handsome thing, you know. It would be a pity to waste such a face on the emptiness of the meadow. It's so much easier to make others listen when you're beautiful," I muse aloud, my thoughts threatening an ungrounded tangent. I want to touch his face, his neck, to feel the hot blood rushing beneath his skin. However, I refrain. My own skin is perpetually cold, a side effect of long term blood loss. It is unpleasant to me, I can't imagine it would do anything for anyone else, either.
My smile returns at his question, giddy as a girl in spring when he delves into my prompting. "Oh darling, I assure you I don't care. Rape, pillage, do something heroic: it's all the same in the end. All I ask is that you don't be boring." A pause weighs on my tongue as I seek out his burning eyes once more."Boredom is something I simply don't abide with." There's no latent magic lying in wait this time. Only the gleam of danger others would perhaps describe to him later.
Making my own entertainment tends to be a messy business. My face twitches at his declaring one talent. Cruelty, what a perverse thing to claim! One delicate brow raises intrigued, lips pursed and contemplative. "We'll see how true that is." I promise, anticipation rising in my chest.
@[Obscene]