08-20-2018, 10:37 PM
There was something thrilling and dangerous when she danced with the devil. The way that light and darkness clashed together, twisting and wrapping into one, creating a masterpiece and disaster simultaneously. Living on the very edge of the world by playing a dangerous game never seemed quite so boring.
She lived for the thrill that it gave her. The beating of her heart. The rush of adrenaline that filled every neuron with excitement. Adventure is what she called it. But it was her adventures that would be her ending—the very death of her.
It takes no time for her to fall into her role. The familiar steps are easily laid out for her and she follows them one by one. The childhood charades did not compare to this—not the monster she faced now. But she was the daughter of a monster and she knew how they liked to play their games.
Lucrezia watches his every move carefully though concealed by a mask of her own. A mask she wears of concern, someone who will listens, and a stranger willing to help no matter what. She calculates the way his expression changes and the words easily fall from his lips. It’s all too perfect.
“It’s going to be okay,” she finally bursts out, a voice sweet like honey filled with the earnest empathy she can muster to perfect. She takes a step forward, nutmeg eyes gleaming, focusing only on him. Watching the way, he anxiously looks around from where they are in the forest. It almost makes her feel anxious just looking at him. “Why can’t you come back here?” She asks softly.
The multi-colored mare takes another step again, closing the space between them. His musty scent is even more sharp now. She snorts softly, inhaling it and tasting it. “Don’t call yourself stupid,” she says next, her words are still soft and her brow furrows in worry, “You aren’t stupid.” Although that was definitely a lie—there was something obviously off by him she could tell. What was it though?
His gaze finally meets her own. There is pleading in his voice, but this time there is more. He looks at her in a way that would break someone (even someone like her). Someone looking for a place to find refuge and safety. She remembers a time when she had been in that place—alone and nowhere to go, nothing but with troubles weighing her down. Then she had found everything she had ever needed (or so she thought).
She wanted something more.
Something that gave her life again.
But what price would she pay for that?
“His name was P-P-Pollock,” he says.
“What?” she whispers faintly. Lucrezia’s brow creases as she questions the words he just has said. She knew that name—the very greedy beast she had met on the mountain, the one who had come to Tephra. “Your father can’t be,” she whispers, still questioning herself. Lucrezia looks him over, nutmeg eyes moving from his goat horns all the way down to his cloven hooves.
No, it cannot be true, she tells herself. But every inch of the stranger in front of her stank of the monster himself. The one she had come to despise. The very greed he reaped and sowed had marked him one of the individuals that had a hand in destroying the world she knew—her home that had flooded.
“Why can’t he?” she asks, almost believing his words and charade now.
She lived for the thrill that it gave her. The beating of her heart. The rush of adrenaline that filled every neuron with excitement. Adventure is what she called it. But it was her adventures that would be her ending—the very death of her.
It takes no time for her to fall into her role. The familiar steps are easily laid out for her and she follows them one by one. The childhood charades did not compare to this—not the monster she faced now. But she was the daughter of a monster and she knew how they liked to play their games.
Lucrezia watches his every move carefully though concealed by a mask of her own. A mask she wears of concern, someone who will listens, and a stranger willing to help no matter what. She calculates the way his expression changes and the words easily fall from his lips. It’s all too perfect.
“It’s going to be okay,” she finally bursts out, a voice sweet like honey filled with the earnest empathy she can muster to perfect. She takes a step forward, nutmeg eyes gleaming, focusing only on him. Watching the way, he anxiously looks around from where they are in the forest. It almost makes her feel anxious just looking at him. “Why can’t you come back here?” She asks softly.
The multi-colored mare takes another step again, closing the space between them. His musty scent is even more sharp now. She snorts softly, inhaling it and tasting it. “Don’t call yourself stupid,” she says next, her words are still soft and her brow furrows in worry, “You aren’t stupid.” Although that was definitely a lie—there was something obviously off by him she could tell. What was it though?
His gaze finally meets her own. There is pleading in his voice, but this time there is more. He looks at her in a way that would break someone (even someone like her). Someone looking for a place to find refuge and safety. She remembers a time when she had been in that place—alone and nowhere to go, nothing but with troubles weighing her down. Then she had found everything she had ever needed (or so she thought).
She wanted something more.
Something that gave her life again.
But what price would she pay for that?
“His name was P-P-Pollock,” he says.
“What?” she whispers faintly. Lucrezia’s brow creases as she questions the words he just has said. She knew that name—the very greedy beast she had met on the mountain, the one who had come to Tephra. “Your father can’t be,” she whispers, still questioning herself. Lucrezia looks him over, nutmeg eyes moving from his goat horns all the way down to his cloven hooves.
No, it cannot be true, she tells herself. But every inch of the stranger in front of her stank of the monster himself. The one she had come to despise. The very greed he reaped and sowed had marked him one of the individuals that had a hand in destroying the world she knew—her home that had flooded.
“Why can’t he?” she asks, almost believing his words and charade now.
@[bruise]
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