black hearts, the wicked never rest. i curse the day i let you in
so tell me dear,
A small fracturing part of her does wish to argue, but she’s far too tired, far too broken, far too much in pieces to find the words to supplicate her argument. And she can’t look at him, to see the disappointment that she isn’t the same as she was when she left, making jokes, pretending that things would be okay. In the end, she wasn’t sure they ever would be. And now? Now that she’s back? She’ll never be the same. There is nothing that she can do, no one to turn to for help in it now. Because they had struck their bargain, and who did she know that was Ascended, that might help?
That might try to fix someone they don’t know, solve a quest for a personal result? What good did it do, for the one soul that gets returned to Ludo to go to Mort versus the others that live and thrive one incredibly long, dark week in the snow?
She’s never realized how selfish she is, and it hurts as that final stone drops, as Zuriel enfolds her in soft maws and glowing horns, wounds healing and scars remaining. And when the unicorn is done, she gives her thanks in the view of a trembling hand – so much like the blight, but this time it’s fear and pain and sorrow and regret – to brush at the unicorns ears as she inhales a shaking breath. And she goes to lean against the wall, arms wrapping around herself as the hot, red warmth of her face finds the cool wall, listening as he speaks of no more monsters.
But she can’t just leave him there. To be used like a puppet, to visit once a year where she could die and break and fall apart at the seams.
Her head lifts as he tells her we’ll find another way, and the fury and pain that brims within her bristles at this. “What other ways are there?” She asks, voice rising ever so slightly in her exasperation. She doesn’t care who hears. She is destroying herself, falling apart before everyone’s eyes, and she deserves it. Deserves what has come. “I wish it had asked for me instead.” A life for a life, one she’d be so willing to give. So willing to let this end. “At least I could give it that.”
To be a bride of darkness, of the longest night of the year.
And she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, pressing herself back against the wall, sinking to the floor to make herself as small as possible. To break into a smaller mess on the floor, easy to be picked up and put somewhere else, rather than exploding over the entire hall.
That might try to fix someone they don’t know, solve a quest for a personal result? What good did it do, for the one soul that gets returned to Ludo to go to Mort versus the others that live and thrive one incredibly long, dark week in the snow?
She’s never realized how selfish she is, and it hurts as that final stone drops, as Zuriel enfolds her in soft maws and glowing horns, wounds healing and scars remaining. And when the unicorn is done, she gives her thanks in the view of a trembling hand – so much like the blight, but this time it’s fear and pain and sorrow and regret – to brush at the unicorns ears as she inhales a shaking breath. And she goes to lean against the wall, arms wrapping around herself as the hot, red warmth of her face finds the cool wall, listening as he speaks of no more monsters.
But she can’t just leave him there. To be used like a puppet, to visit once a year where she could die and break and fall apart at the seams.
Her head lifts as he tells her we’ll find another way, and the fury and pain that brims within her bristles at this. “What other ways are there?” She asks, voice rising ever so slightly in her exasperation. She doesn’t care who hears. She is destroying herself, falling apart before everyone’s eyes, and she deserves it. Deserves what has come. “I wish it had asked for me instead.” A life for a life, one she’d be so willing to give. So willing to let this end. “At least I could give it that.”
To be a bride of darkness, of the longest night of the year.
And she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, pressing herself back against the wall, sinking to the floor to make herself as small as possible. To break into a smaller mess on the floor, easy to be picked up and put somewhere else, rather than exploding over the entire hall.
can your heart still break?
if it's already stopped breathing?
KIADA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
