violence
She is familiar with monsters.
Born of them, kin to them, she grew up around them, always sickened with jealousy. Though she is a powerful thing, she lacks the exterior qualities of monsters, the strange body and sharp jaws. Her sisters had inherited such things, and Violence could never understand it. They wasted their talents.
She knew what it was to be a monster, having inhabited their bodies (her father, especially, had been weak, he had been easy to possess, to pilot on hunts, so that she could pretend, however briefly, that she was the monster). But it is not her resting state. Her resting state is that of a plain black horse, beautiful but not exceptionally so.
Though beside this plain black creature walks another, stranger creature – her bone-thing, made of a menagerie of bones from a dozen different animals. Its skull is equine, yet crowned with deer antlers, wolves’ teeth jammed ill-fitting into its mouth. It’s exquisite and horrifying.
She is not a monster, but she knows how to build them.
She walks in the forest alongside her creation. She is seeking nothing in particular. She is an aimless creature more often than not, pledged to no kingdom, free of lovers and friends. She has family (magicians and monsters, and none of them like her overmuch – the feeling is mutual, there), but she has not seen them in years, and could not tell you what has become of them.
Yet she is reminded, starkly so, of her family when she sees the creature in the woods. The body is familiar, yet the face is not, and she realizes the alien is male, when her mother had borne only females.
She wonders if there have been more, in her absence.
“You!” she barks out, and she is foolish in her confidence that this creature is kin, because the fact he could turn on her does not cross her mind, “who are your parents? You look so much like my sister.”
these violent delights bring violent ends
they are only distantly related but the only xenomorphs violence knows are her direct family...couldn't pass you up <3