Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Feeling lightheaded, it was a struggle to get back on her feet. Rising while Asta's expression fell, Maea had to brace herself against the wall of the nearest building to keep upright. There was so much wrong about what had happened that she didn't even know when to start. It went beyond the death of a brute who had broken the rules, to matters of nature and ones role in the natural world and back down to nitpicking choice of words... but ultimately she found that none of those big things mattered. Getting tired of my own words
"You tortured him," she croaked, trembling at the memory. "I could accept it if what you ate was out of necessity. Or even if it came from people already deceased - or - or limbs already severed. It's fucking disgusting, but I could live with that. But this - !" Shaking her head violently from side to side, the nausea returned and brought bile into her mouth. Sour, awful - just like him. "You – I can't believe you. That was cruel, and sick, and twisted – if that's what it means to be an Ancient then I don't want anything to do with any of this anymore!"
If Danta was like this too, and Charlie, and if the bloodlust was capable of turning any of the others into this kind of monster - including herself - then... then they really were monsters. All of them.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
