Thalassa
His intensity is a surprise, but she knows Asta won't hurt her, and with the initial shock gone, Thal lets him step closer. Her head angles up, eyes narrowing in a combination of aching and frustration that's become unfortunately second nature recently. She nods with a heavy sigh, lowering her head to watch as he takes her hand slower this time. He's right - as much as she wishes Maea would vanish from existence and take all the memories with her, the woman is the worst combination: stubborn and delusional. Thal opens her mouth to agree, thoughts and ideas beginning to form as easily as the shadows Asta presses gently to around her hand.
But then Maea is the farthest thing from her mind.
The prick of a thorn breaks the skin of her palm, sending a cascade of light through every crevice of her soul. Its incorporeal fingers wrap mercilessly around the dark hollow roots that had taken hold, ripping with such a strength that her mouth opens in a silent scream, her arms clutching her sides to hold herself together in the assault, tears springing to her eyes at the breathtaking pain. It doesn't stop the warmth that spreads quickly, searing through her senses in a moment of blissful relief, a brightening of her mind that's eerily similar to the sun peeking from behind the cresting wave, banishing every crevice of darkness. The moment hangs in suspension, a single breath of freedom.
But then she's flooded with the burden of understanding, and it hits so hard that she gasps and falls to her knees. Her vision swims and acid curdles her insides, stripping the lining of her throat as it tries to carve its way up and out faster than any seasick passenger. Every infected memory loses its purple filter, exposing the grotesque and humiliating truth of the last few months, of every lie and horrifying influence that she's let control her.
Not to mention the attachment she'd felt to them - to Pierce.
What had started as a morbid curiosity and spike of adrenaline had left her weak and manipulated, an enchanted puppet he knew wouldn't betray him - that he could play with all he wanted. A deep, hidden spec of logic knows that Pierce hadn't been cruel, he hadn't pulled on the strings that laced between them, tangling in her very soul; but he'd also made the choice to infect her, taking that freedom away and forcing her loyalty. She'd been his obedient, brain-numb pet and he'd left her - crippled by the vacant bond - to rot like a discarded toy.
And she'd cried for him like a broken-hearted fool.
It sickens her so much that she's suffocating, vomit coating her lips as she trembles from the realizations that wreak her mind, like she can somehow expel the memories that prove just how vulnerable she'd been. Her body shakes, quivering as the false reality shatters away in a clattering of violet-hued glass, exposing her every weakness. Thal digs her nails into the wood, voice hoarse as she squeezes her eyes against the overwhelming sensations, only faintly aware that Asta is still there. "Shit. What did he do to me?"
But then Maea is the farthest thing from her mind.
The prick of a thorn breaks the skin of her palm, sending a cascade of light through every crevice of her soul. Its incorporeal fingers wrap mercilessly around the dark hollow roots that had taken hold, ripping with such a strength that her mouth opens in a silent scream, her arms clutching her sides to hold herself together in the assault, tears springing to her eyes at the breathtaking pain. It doesn't stop the warmth that spreads quickly, searing through her senses in a moment of blissful relief, a brightening of her mind that's eerily similar to the sun peeking from behind the cresting wave, banishing every crevice of darkness. The moment hangs in suspension, a single breath of freedom.
But then she's flooded with the burden of understanding, and it hits so hard that she gasps and falls to her knees. Her vision swims and acid curdles her insides, stripping the lining of her throat as it tries to carve its way up and out faster than any seasick passenger. Every infected memory loses its purple filter, exposing the grotesque and humiliating truth of the last few months, of every lie and horrifying influence that she's let control her.
Not to mention the attachment she'd felt to them - to Pierce.
What had started as a morbid curiosity and spike of adrenaline had left her weak and manipulated, an enchanted puppet he knew wouldn't betray him - that he could play with all he wanted. A deep, hidden spec of logic knows that Pierce hadn't been cruel, he hadn't pulled on the strings that laced between them, tangling in her very soul; but he'd also made the choice to infect her, taking that freedom away and forcing her loyalty. She'd been his obedient, brain-numb pet and he'd left her - crippled by the vacant bond - to rot like a discarded toy.
And she'd cried for him like a broken-hearted fool.
It sickens her so much that she's suffocating, vomit coating her lips as she trembles from the realizations that wreak her mind, like she can somehow expel the memories that prove just how vulnerable she'd been. Her body shakes, quivering as the false reality shatters away in a clattering of violet-hued glass, exposing her every weakness. Thal digs her nails into the wood, voice hoarse as she squeezes her eyes against the overwhelming sensations, only faintly aware that Asta is still there. "Shit. What did he do to me?"
Don't ask questions you don't wanna know
Learned my lesson way too long ago
Learned my lesson way too long ago
