You always liked the taste of blood
and i get off when i point the gun
Her days of waiting and watching come to fruition in the hurried, purposeful steps of a single man. No, not a man. A creature. A twisted, self-inflicted destruction of one's own soul. Excitement and anxiety rise in simultaneous, calamitous waves inside her breast. Heart racing, pulse thundering, only lending credence to her act. The hood is drawn low over her brow, but the parting of the crowd is unmistakable. One step. Two. Everything seems both sluggish and incredibly fast, and within the concealed sleeves of her robe, dexterous fingers pull Lasracha to her hands. Prepared. Waiting.
The long limbs before her kneel, and she cants her head to the side, peering up just enough to remain as concealed as possible. I must appear frightened, not vengeful. It is a mantra in her mind as the creature speaks, the concern meaningless to Nephele. "Don't touch me!" she screeches in her hoarsest voice, and lashes out immediately. Lasracha comes to her aid, flame-patterned edges wicked and unrelenting. She aims for his throat, though Nephele admittedly does not know if the Ascended still have arteries, merely with their blood replaced. But the creature is shorter than she had expected now that it is up close and kneeling, and her strike goes high, the magic imbued in the single chakram in her weapon-hand burning and searing wherever it touches the monster's skin.
For Ludo. For my people. I hope it burns.
The long limbs before her kneel, and she cants her head to the side, peering up just enough to remain as concealed as possible. I must appear frightened, not vengeful. It is a mantra in her mind as the creature speaks, the concern meaningless to Nephele. "Don't touch me!" she screeches in her hoarsest voice, and lashes out immediately. Lasracha comes to her aid, flame-patterned edges wicked and unrelenting. She aims for his throat, though Nephele admittedly does not know if the Ascended still have arteries, merely with their blood replaced. But the creature is shorter than she had expected now that it is up close and kneeling, and her strike goes high, the magic imbued in the single chakram in her weapon-hand burning and searing wherever it touches the monster's skin.
For Ludo. For my people. I hope it burns.
it's so good to have someone
to be so very bad with
NEPHELE
