WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
With her focus elsewhere, the Wraith does something unusual. She stubs her toe.
“Fuck,” she says as she stumbles, because without pain, she has a much smaller reaction. Turning back to see what made her trip, there’s a corner of a something sticking out of the ground - metal. Seems to stick up as if there’s more. Loki lands and noses at it, curious and bold, so Wessex unsheathes her talons and begins to dig (unwieldy as they are, it’s better than her hands) until she uncovers a small box. It’s ‘locked,’ but with her current strength, that’s no real matter.
She breaks the lock easily, opens it, and finds a couple of items inside. Papers, a small knick-knack - they take her attention until a voice disturbs her and Loki fires off a small burst of energy in surprise.
Standing, she looks across the person who’s laughing at her and her jaw first drops, and then it turns into a fangs-bared snarl. The box and its contents snap shut. It must be a boggart - or something equally able to fuck with her. “That’s not yours.” she barks back. “I’ll kill you even if you’re wearing his face, fucker.”
“Fuck,” she says as she stumbles, because without pain, she has a much smaller reaction. Turning back to see what made her trip, there’s a corner of a something sticking out of the ground - metal. Seems to stick up as if there’s more. Loki lands and noses at it, curious and bold, so Wessex unsheathes her talons and begins to dig (unwieldy as they are, it’s better than her hands) until she uncovers a small box. It’s ‘locked,’ but with her current strength, that’s no real matter.
She breaks the lock easily, opens it, and finds a couple of items inside. Papers, a small knick-knack - they take her attention until a voice disturbs her and Loki fires off a small burst of energy in surprise.
Standing, she looks across the person who’s laughing at her and her jaw first drops, and then it turns into a fangs-bared snarl. The box and its contents snap shut. It must be a boggart - or something equally able to fuck with her. “That’s not yours.” she barks back. “I’ll kill you even if you’re wearing his face, fucker.”
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
the hallelujah
