MABEL
She couldn’t remember how she got here.
In Torchline one moment, heading towards a shrine, trying not to look at the water, at the salt-laced sea –
And then in chains the next.
But she was a rippling, coursing fiend the second she woke up – snarling, hissing, as if she’d been brought up from the deep again, or perhaps deep in a forest, dwelling in eldritch eaves and tirades. Her fangs were bared, eyes flickering back and forth, from one figure to the next, in this cold, stark room with too many dastardly promises held within it. “Oh, the coward,” and she sneered, longing to lunge, to reach out, towards Gideon. If only she had her knives in her grasp.
More than once she maneuvered, making a racket amidst the chains, intending to move the chair. A singular demand slipped past her lips – even if she had no way to ensure it happened. Desperation hadn’t fully gripped into her lungs and veins yet. “Let me go.”
In Torchline one moment, heading towards a shrine, trying not to look at the water, at the salt-laced sea –
And then in chains the next.
But she was a rippling, coursing fiend the second she woke up – snarling, hissing, as if she’d been brought up from the deep again, or perhaps deep in a forest, dwelling in eldritch eaves and tirades. Her fangs were bared, eyes flickering back and forth, from one figure to the next, in this cold, stark room with too many dastardly promises held within it. “Oh, the coward,” and she sneered, longing to lunge, to reach out, towards Gideon. If only she had her knives in her grasp.
More than once she maneuvered, making a racket amidst the chains, intending to move the chair. A singular demand slipped past her lips – even if she had no way to ensure it happened. Desperation hadn’t fully gripped into her lungs and veins yet. “Let me go.”
Let's go to war to make peace
Let's be cold to create heat
Let's be cold to create heat
