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
“Three hundred and twelve, to be precise,” she confirms with a faint smile. Those twelve - no, those last four have made a bigger difference than she ever could have dreamed of.
“A lot has happened. A lot. In fact, we’ve come full circle and there’s probably another war brewing. So you’ve reanimated just in time.” While Wessex might be keeping her tone light and conversational, there is a deep-seeded kernel of truth to what she’s saying. They do need every Ascended they can get, every ally, every fighter. If it’s just a numbers game, she’s fairly sure they’re going to lose, if only because they’re not a cohesive fighting unit.
This one, at least, seems less spacey than Aamu. Maybe he’ll have more information.
But first things first - and to be honest, she’s a little surprised he accepts her offer of fluid, but there’s no taking it back now. Nodding to indicate permission, she hums reflexively after he sinks his fangs into her forearm, clenching her fists and closing her eyes as the feel-good fluids begin to flow. He’ll find power and strength within her, a myriad of magical options to choose from, including healing himself, if he wishes, but more importantly - the tell-tale signs of a fellow soldier (in case the previous ten minutes wasn’t enough of a clue).
As for the Wraith, well it’s been so long since she’s bitten (and been bitten) that there’s an unexpected weakness in the knees rising up through her legs as pleasure continues to mount.
“A lot has happened. A lot. In fact, we’ve come full circle and there’s probably another war brewing. So you’ve reanimated just in time.” While Wessex might be keeping her tone light and conversational, there is a deep-seeded kernel of truth to what she’s saying. They do need every Ascended they can get, every ally, every fighter. If it’s just a numbers game, she’s fairly sure they’re going to lose, if only because they’re not a cohesive fighting unit.
This one, at least, seems less spacey than Aamu. Maybe he’ll have more information.
But first things first - and to be honest, she’s a little surprised he accepts her offer of fluid, but there’s no taking it back now. Nodding to indicate permission, she hums reflexively after he sinks his fangs into her forearm, clenching her fists and closing her eyes as the feel-good fluids begin to flow. He’ll find power and strength within her, a myriad of magical options to choose from, including healing himself, if he wishes, but more importantly - the tell-tale signs of a fellow soldier (in case the previous ten minutes wasn’t enough of a clue).
As for the Wraith, well it’s been so long since she’s bitten (and been bitten) that there’s an unexpected weakness in the knees rising up through her legs as pleasure continues to mount.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
the hallelujah
