MABEL
It was a rarity – but once Sah’s description lofted into the air – she laughed. It wasn’t melodic, it wasn’t sublime, but it wasn’t wretched either – something conjured in the depths of solitude and ill will, mocking and diplomatic all in the same breadth. Not towards him, but everything in general, by the statements pressed against her ears, by the state of things spent and sent amidst this galley of mourning flowers and decadent shadow. Then she leaned in closer, eerie all the more, her smile twisted into something eldritch and fiendish. “The Old will always be afraid of the New. Because we are better, grander, and greater.” Improved, capable, without pain, without torment, without the need for anything but the Voice. And their Vi, their Mort, their precious Rae, had been threatened by what she could do.
How absolutely wonderful.
The smirk deepened, the tilt of her head following suit. “You’re human too. And you’ll do the same. We all will.” She hummed under her breath. “You’ll have a choice, and that will be that.” Fights and onslaughts – a history due to be repeated.
Then it was gone, neutral stance in her composition, in the way she still owned and occupied the stone bench. That he didn’t have any friends either didn’t help her cause, and she nearly frowned, irritated by the lack of assisting nuances. Eventually, she could only shrug her shoulders, cross her arms over her chest. “Maybe it’ll just happen.” Which sounded like lack of effort on her part – but unless it consisted of vengeance and some dominion of how to gain more power, more persuasion, the youth was relatively idle.
How absolutely wonderful.
The smirk deepened, the tilt of her head following suit. “You’re human too. And you’ll do the same. We all will.” She hummed under her breath. “You’ll have a choice, and that will be that.” Fights and onslaughts – a history due to be repeated.
Then it was gone, neutral stance in her composition, in the way she still owned and occupied the stone bench. That he didn’t have any friends either didn’t help her cause, and she nearly frowned, irritated by the lack of assisting nuances. Eventually, she could only shrug her shoulders, cross her arms over her chest. “Maybe it’ll just happen.” Which sounded like lack of effort on her part – but unless it consisted of vengeance and some dominion of how to gain more power, more persuasion, the youth was relatively idle.
If you dig under my feet
You will find things that you don't want to see
You will find things that you don't want to see
