01-19-2019, 08:45 PM
ryatah
hell is empty and all the devils are here
Perhaps with anyone else, she would have attempted to bargain, or at least done something to bide her time. When it comes to others, they are easier to influence in another direction — everyone is so tempted by the flesh, and other petty, rather meaningless things. But she is not so unintelligible as to think that that would work in this case. He has had nearly everything offered to him, sometimes served willingly, sometimes taken ruthlessly. It would be futile to try and lure him from what he has decided he wants.
She had long since succumbed to the notion that she would give him anything.
It is hard to not grow tense as the shadows encroach, binding around her. But her eyes don’t waver from his, and she doesn’t resist, even as they tighten; she’s been bound before by things far more invisible and intangible. Her weakness was her mind; simply tapping into her innate need to be controlled would be enough, but she knew it wasn’t going to be that simple with him. He didn’t want to just control her. That would be far too easy, too tame.
The force in which she is torn downwards is enough to rip the breath from her lungs, plummeting through what feels like an endless drop. But it stops, just as suddenly as it had started, and the irony is not lost on her when she realizes she has been plunged once more into darkness. Her eyes blink, but it’s a useless endeavor. Somehow, staring eyes wide open into the black around her is more unnerving than not having eyes at all.
Even without her infrared vision — which, she is not surprised to discover he took from her — it doesn’t take her long to adapt, or at least, to the best of her current ability. She had lived in darkness far longer than she had ever lived in the light, and already, she is listening; to her own pulse as it flutters in her veins, to the distance between his voice and the walls around them. ”So it would seem,” the words are spoken in a wry, but still humored tone, and she takes a cautious step forward in his direction. It is not the dark that makes her uneasy. It’s being on his territory that causes her heart to quiver, that sews the fear through her mind like a needle and thread. ”Where are we?”
She had long since succumbed to the notion that she would give him anything.
It is hard to not grow tense as the shadows encroach, binding around her. But her eyes don’t waver from his, and she doesn’t resist, even as they tighten; she’s been bound before by things far more invisible and intangible. Her weakness was her mind; simply tapping into her innate need to be controlled would be enough, but she knew it wasn’t going to be that simple with him. He didn’t want to just control her. That would be far too easy, too tame.
The force in which she is torn downwards is enough to rip the breath from her lungs, plummeting through what feels like an endless drop. But it stops, just as suddenly as it had started, and the irony is not lost on her when she realizes she has been plunged once more into darkness. Her eyes blink, but it’s a useless endeavor. Somehow, staring eyes wide open into the black around her is more unnerving than not having eyes at all.
Even without her infrared vision — which, she is not surprised to discover he took from her — it doesn’t take her long to adapt, or at least, to the best of her current ability. She had lived in darkness far longer than she had ever lived in the light, and already, she is listening; to her own pulse as it flutters in her veins, to the distance between his voice and the walls around them. ”So it would seem,” the words are spoken in a wry, but still humored tone, and she takes a cautious step forward in his direction. It is not the dark that makes her uneasy. It’s being on his territory that causes her heart to quiver, that sews the fear through her mind like a needle and thread. ”Where are we?”