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
“That would require people to like me,” Wessex replies dryly, trying to keep the edge out of her voice (who knows if she’s successful). Self-pity has never suited her, but there are moments when she’s no longer able to keep it at bay, the stress of, well, everything, only serving to highlight that she’s alone. Even within the family, she’s alone.
“Nevertheless,” she continues, “I’m glad it’s in use.” Trying to see if there might be anything else that’s urgent right now, the Queen can find little else she needs to talk about; everything is in their own hands. “Think we can have the same LongNight setup this year? I'm probably going to insist all non-Ascended leave." She can't have a hundred others to worry about, on top of those who are risking their lives. They need to get out. Just in case.
“Nevertheless,” she continues, “I’m glad it’s in use.” Trying to see if there might be anything else that’s urgent right now, the Queen can find little else she needs to talk about; everything is in their own hands. “Think we can have the same LongNight setup this year? I'm probably going to insist all non-Ascended leave." She can't have a hundred others to worry about, on top of those who are risking their lives. They need to get out. Just in case.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
the hallelujah
