violence
It's not that she holds a grudge, but --
Well. She doesn’t take well to being defied. Especially by those stupid things, those creatures. She was the first. She may not be a monster (not in form, anyway), but she was first.
She has made sure they all know it, each of her sisters. Cowed them. They are toys, each unique, each powerful. But none so powerful as she.
But when she had taken Nexu’s mind, just to show her – show her the fun of it, the possibilities of her alien form – Nexu had fought, had spat her back out. She hadn’t cowed, her mind had not been so open and simple as the other monsters. Something lurked there besides instinct, and oh, Violence hates it.
So she’s watched her, followed her. Not all of the time. But enough to see the ridiculous courtship, the man she fell sweet on.
Fucking weak, was what it was.
Violence finds the man easy enough, follows him to his wooded him. She doesn’t know him, but she has watched. There is a similarity to their wants, she thinks. The difference is, she is stronger.
(She is an arrogant thing, empowered by her traits, by the fact she is so rarely beaten.)
Before walking to greet him, she summons her bone creature. It is her project, this thing, a menagerie of bones from several different animals. She holds them together by magic, makes it move and interact. Some love it, some fear it. Either way, it makes quite an impression. She leaves it at the edge of the woods, just out of sight, as she makes herself known to the stallion.
Violence is not particularly beautiful, no more so than the average mare. She doesn’t care – attracting others has never been her fancy – but she moves with a confidence that does catch the eye. She doesn’t try to be seductive as she nears him – she would fail at this, she knows – but she makes herself striking. Something to notice.
“Hello,” she says, and her voice is sweet, as if they were old friends, “you don’t know me, but I feel as if I know you. And I think you’re the kind of man who likes power.”
She drops her voice then, as if conspiring.
“I’m the daughter of a magician,” she says, “and I have many powers of my own…”
As if on cue, her bone creature charges out, moving unnaturally fast. It charges towards them, skids to a stop. The bones briefly separate at the jarring motion, and then knit back together.
“I made this,” she purrs, “and can do so much else.”
She presses at his mind, lightly. Enough to be felt. She doesn’t push any harder.
“I can enter others’ bodies,” she says, “and from there, we could combine our powers…”
A lie – her necromancy is all but worthless when she’s in the throes of someone else’s mind. But he doesn’t need to know this.
“I could make you so strong,” she promises, “so powerful.”
She continues to press at his mind. Makes her presence known.
“What do you say? Let me in?”
I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips
holler if you want me to change anything!!!