MABEL
Mabel was not a fool; adhering directly to the answers given and granted, listening intently to the insinuations layered underneath. The Voice is extra generous to those who help out rang a chord, and she shoved it in the back of her mind for further nuances and developments, to ask, to receive, to kneel and bow before their goddess. But there were potentials for the sun again, to bask in its glory as well as any luminous glow, a wolf amidst midnight and the dawn, and something about the notions compelled her into more malice, more menace, intertwining in her bones, in her filaments, in the parts that were still Mabel of the Occidendums.
So she nodded, understood, kept silent while the Wraith continued, speaking of upgrades, of ways in which her form worked, far better, far greater, than theirs. A slip into her mind, tones calling again. “How are we to get these upgrades?” Power, prestige, strength, and might, not afraid to show the covetous edges, the range of speculation and potential. Maybe one day they’d have more and more and more, perfected machines under alterations and machinations, their wits and mights gathered, beneath either sun or moon, to revel in the triumph of their existences, their fortitude, their abilities.
So she nodded, understood, kept silent while the Wraith continued, speaking of upgrades, of ways in which her form worked, far better, far greater, than theirs. A slip into her mind, tones calling again. “How are we to get these upgrades?” Power, prestige, strength, and might, not afraid to show the covetous edges, the range of speculation and potential. Maybe one day they’d have more and more and more, perfected machines under alterations and machinations, their wits and mights gathered, beneath either sun or moon, to revel in the triumph of their existences, their fortitude, their abilities.
I bare my teeth
and stretch my claws out
and stretch my claws out
