Told you not to worry, but maybe that's a lie
The edge of her dagger splits through the third man's neck, a low gargling sound bubbling from his trachea while his hands reach futilely to stop his lifeblood from painting the floor red. She just stares, wishing his suffering had lasted longer when he crumples at her feet, watching as the light leaves his eyes - eyes that are too brown to be familiar.
Boots slap wet stone in a frantic attempt at escape. Thal doesn't turn quite yet, giving him a head start so she can savor the hunt through the tunnels. It won't be hard in her shift, prowling after the scent of his fear, the mix of sweat and desperation. But she waits for the moment his panicked noises start to fade -
They're cut short in a strangled sound that has her interest flaring, wondering if the night might have more to offer her than four dead bodies and a pyre of riches. She takes a moment to retrieve her first dagger from the man's brain, licking the blood from the blade as she turns to the sound of dragging feet.
Darkness carries the last man forth like an offering, tight in its grasp of his life. But darkness is familiar to her, moonlit hair and quiet confidence giving her pause for the first time since her dance of death. She scans the situation with quiet apathy on her face, disguising the chaos that flips and spins through memories and emotions she'd rather not remember. The thing that hits the hardest is that he's here, right where she'd planned to burn away every lingering hold Pierce might have left on her, making it the perfect place for him to gloat and shove every one of her mistakes and weaknesses in her face, to rip open whatever wounds she'd just started to heal.
But Thal isn't weighed down by the hollowness anymore - and she's pissed.
Thal steps forward, all danger and controlled rage on the outside with broiling emotions clashing within. "He's not the only one." She can't tell what Vesper is thinking and she doesn't much care, making her own meaning very clear as she meets his cool gaze with her own blue storms. "But I'll accept screams just as well." Her hand flashes up to seize the coward by the throat (not Vesper - yet). Thin fingers bite into his jaw, but it's the silent tug of a new and brutal magic that has the man paling, a scream wrenching forth from his chest as essence and energy are ripped from his body. Thal shows no signs of surprise or remorse, refusing to break her stare even as he writhes pitifully beneath her grasp. Whatever Vesper had hoped to accomplish, she wants him to know exactly where he stands right now - and who he's standing against.
Boots slap wet stone in a frantic attempt at escape. Thal doesn't turn quite yet, giving him a head start so she can savor the hunt through the tunnels. It won't be hard in her shift, prowling after the scent of his fear, the mix of sweat and desperation. But she waits for the moment his panicked noises start to fade -
They're cut short in a strangled sound that has her interest flaring, wondering if the night might have more to offer her than four dead bodies and a pyre of riches. She takes a moment to retrieve her first dagger from the man's brain, licking the blood from the blade as she turns to the sound of dragging feet.
Darkness carries the last man forth like an offering, tight in its grasp of his life. But darkness is familiar to her, moonlit hair and quiet confidence giving her pause for the first time since her dance of death. She scans the situation with quiet apathy on her face, disguising the chaos that flips and spins through memories and emotions she'd rather not remember. The thing that hits the hardest is that he's here, right where she'd planned to burn away every lingering hold Pierce might have left on her, making it the perfect place for him to gloat and shove every one of her mistakes and weaknesses in her face, to rip open whatever wounds she'd just started to heal.
But Thal isn't weighed down by the hollowness anymore - and she's pissed.
Thal steps forward, all danger and controlled rage on the outside with broiling emotions clashing within. "He's not the only one." She can't tell what Vesper is thinking and she doesn't much care, making her own meaning very clear as she meets his cool gaze with her own blue storms. "But I'll accept screams just as well." Her hand flashes up to seize the coward by the throat (not Vesper - yet). Thin fingers bite into his jaw, but it's the silent tug of a new and brutal magic that has the man paling, a scream wrenching forth from his chest as essence and energy are ripped from his body. Thal shows no signs of surprise or remorse, refusing to break her stare even as he writhes pitifully beneath her grasp. Whatever Vesper had hoped to accomplish, she wants him to know exactly where he stands right now - and who he's standing against.
Thalassa
Honey, what's your hurry? Won't you stay inside?
