11-24-2019, 05:29 PM
SabbatH
i'll let you play the role. i'll be your animal.
She does not know to fear death. Sabbath is still young enough to imagine she might live forever, if the world is kind and she stays entertaining enough. But she’s old enough to keep her head down low when things become dangerous now. She learned what it means to be the nail that sticks out, the one that gets hammered down. The serpent woman is not like her parents – pillars of strength, the ones brave enough to sculpt their own fate and leave their mark on this world. But what she lacks in greatness, she more than makes up for in cunning.
When he approaches, chin still coated in fish blood, she turns her pale head slowly. Those sage green eyes almost seem angry at his approach and her chin lifts a little higher as she regards him. He’s not close enough that she could seize him by the neck before he could react. Either he would run or he would fight, neither of which interest her. But then he speaks and her ears turn backwards to lay flat against her head while a hiss is drawn from her throat, slow and warning. Her eyes examine the curves of his muscles and the scars across his body but she says nothing regarding them. If she’s pleased or disgusted at the sight of him, she gives no sign of it.
“I’m doing well, thanks so much for asking. My name is Sabbath, what’s yours?” she says, chin lowering to its normal position though her eyes remain narrowed. Her tail flicks and she shifts her weight to get comfortable. At the very least, it’s a sign that he’s not fumbled this whole ordeal so badly that she’s eager to leave it. “I broke my horn because I hate perfection. You aren’t beautiful if you aren’t flawed.”
And maybe she was close to perfect once, with her pointed little teeth all shimmering like royal pearls. There are no scars across her body like his and so she seems to have no story without that broken horn of hers. She bent over backwards and forced herself into the role of ideal daughter only to be overshadowed at every turn. It had hurt so badly to snap that horn in half and yet it felt so good to unleash the real her, the thing lurking behind locked doors and biding its time.
“Let’s keep the rude questions rolling. What happened to you?” she asks, nodding that broken horn toward the largest of the scars on his face.
When he approaches, chin still coated in fish blood, she turns her pale head slowly. Those sage green eyes almost seem angry at his approach and her chin lifts a little higher as she regards him. He’s not close enough that she could seize him by the neck before he could react. Either he would run or he would fight, neither of which interest her. But then he speaks and her ears turn backwards to lay flat against her head while a hiss is drawn from her throat, slow and warning. Her eyes examine the curves of his muscles and the scars across his body but she says nothing regarding them. If she’s pleased or disgusted at the sight of him, she gives no sign of it.
“I’m doing well, thanks so much for asking. My name is Sabbath, what’s yours?” she says, chin lowering to its normal position though her eyes remain narrowed. Her tail flicks and she shifts her weight to get comfortable. At the very least, it’s a sign that he’s not fumbled this whole ordeal so badly that she’s eager to leave it. “I broke my horn because I hate perfection. You aren’t beautiful if you aren’t flawed.”
And maybe she was close to perfect once, with her pointed little teeth all shimmering like royal pearls. There are no scars across her body like his and so she seems to have no story without that broken horn of hers. She bent over backwards and forced herself into the role of ideal daughter only to be overshadowed at every turn. It had hurt so badly to snap that horn in half and yet it felt so good to unleash the real her, the thing lurking behind locked doors and biding its time.
“Let’s keep the rude questions rolling. What happened to you?” she asks, nodding that broken horn toward the largest of the scars on his face.