10-05-2021, 01:08 PM
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
Mazikeen thinks she is not owed an explanation. But she is owed one and the Queen of Hyaline owed many of them. Perhaps she was low on that totem pole on the long list of their wrongs but regardless if Maze had been a willing participant or not, there was still plenty of blood on her hands. As she shakily regains her bearings, she notices that the white mare is gone and a large cat of sorts stands before her, wariness in its orange eyes. She almost laughs again, that harsh bitter sound, except the whisper reaches her before she can. Is it the thing Gale had placed inside of her that responds to her words, that sudden ache amongst the anger, or is it her own heart that stirs with empathy?
She is caught off guard when Mazikeen says her name and it is her turn to become wary, tensing as she gives a small nod of acknowledgment that she was correct. “Yes.” She finally says and that residual bitterness lingers even as she glances away from her. Finding it hard to look at her face even in the shape of a long extinct creature. “We were friends..” Her tone grows cold, hard, because the alternative is grief and she is done with that. Done with the tears and the regret and the weakness that had allowed her to become so broken to begin with. The Curse had placed his own anger inside of Mazikeen but the one he had stirred inside of Ciri when he had murdered her had always been there, dormant and waiting. He had only breathed it to life, coaxed it to the surface when he had revived her and left her there, broken and bleeding.
Her ears had been laced back against her skull but they rise now, pivoting to her as she finally speaks on what she had come here looking for. “Affection makes him weak.” Weak. Weak. What was it with men and their inability to handle emotions? She nods again at the explanation, brushing against that brightness inside of her again and realizing, as she jolts with electricity, that the shadows are no longer there. They are gone as if she had squeezed them free with her vice grip. While it still physical hurts to touch it, this thing that is both Gale and Mazikeen’s, she is aware now. Aware that it is more than just emotion that lays in her chest next to her own overwhelmed heart.
Maze begins to say she is sorry, that she doesn’t know how to help, but she is quick to cut her off if she can. “Don’t know how or unwilling to?” She asks quietly but sharply. Her frustration is building again, still unsure of her and the part she was playing in all this. It takes all her effort to not explode again and her teeth are gritted when she finally finds her voice once more. “You know him Mazikeen. You know him better than anyone. After everything he has done, everything you both have done… Help me make this right.”
She steps closer to her, not threatening as she had been before but her metallic gaze is probing, searching for something in her face. Looking for that regret that she had thought she had seen. “If we can weaken him... Help me figure out how to put this back inside of him.” She follows her request with only one strained word and she cannot help the grimace that accompanies it.
“Please.”
She is caught off guard when Mazikeen says her name and it is her turn to become wary, tensing as she gives a small nod of acknowledgment that she was correct. “Yes.” She finally says and that residual bitterness lingers even as she glances away from her. Finding it hard to look at her face even in the shape of a long extinct creature. “We were friends..” Her tone grows cold, hard, because the alternative is grief and she is done with that. Done with the tears and the regret and the weakness that had allowed her to become so broken to begin with. The Curse had placed his own anger inside of Mazikeen but the one he had stirred inside of Ciri when he had murdered her had always been there, dormant and waiting. He had only breathed it to life, coaxed it to the surface when he had revived her and left her there, broken and bleeding.
Her ears had been laced back against her skull but they rise now, pivoting to her as she finally speaks on what she had come here looking for. “Affection makes him weak.” Weak. Weak. What was it with men and their inability to handle emotions? She nods again at the explanation, brushing against that brightness inside of her again and realizing, as she jolts with electricity, that the shadows are no longer there. They are gone as if she had squeezed them free with her vice grip. While it still physical hurts to touch it, this thing that is both Gale and Mazikeen’s, she is aware now. Aware that it is more than just emotion that lays in her chest next to her own overwhelmed heart.
Maze begins to say she is sorry, that she doesn’t know how to help, but she is quick to cut her off if she can. “Don’t know how or unwilling to?” She asks quietly but sharply. Her frustration is building again, still unsure of her and the part she was playing in all this. It takes all her effort to not explode again and her teeth are gritted when she finally finds her voice once more. “You know him Mazikeen. You know him better than anyone. After everything he has done, everything you both have done… Help me make this right.”
She steps closer to her, not threatening as she had been before but her metallic gaze is probing, searching for something in her face. Looking for that regret that she had thought she had seen. “If we can weaken him... Help me figure out how to put this back inside of him.” She follows her request with only one strained word and she cannot help the grimace that accompanies it.
“Please.”
-- Ciri
@Mazikeen