[ more like a wicked, wicked stepmother that makes her boil potatoes and occasionally wash the bloodstains off her gear, but that's besides the point. ines is sort of the last thing on w's mind right now.
it's just far too ingrained in her head to keep the 'blade' between them as lappland rises to her feet again. what was she even thinking when she attacked? that lappland would make a pretty corpse, sure, even as she knew it'd break one way or another. maybe she was hoping it'd all devolve to teeth and claws. is that so much for a sarkaz to ask? it's not just oripathy that has her hungering for bloodsports — gone as the myriad souls are now, their cries for carnage will echo forever on in her mind.
but she really can't say it's just that. she watches the way lappland's dress creases as she reorients herself, and when she drifts in close behind to lodge that plastic hilt against lappland's spine, the scent drifting off her wild mane is remarkably dizzying. it's fine; w takes her hostage like she's being paid for it, barring an arm across a chest she can't help peeking down at, and nudges them forward. ]
C'mon, I'll give you a legendary death. Haven't you heard of me? Half the marks I've wasted ended up begging for it the moment they realized who I am.
[ ... there's more to those stories, sure, but they don't matter now as w prods lappland across the ballroom, her traitorous black heart rabbiting noisily in her chest. ]
But like I said, I really do love a hunt. I guess you can help me blow off a little steam before your number's up! Better move your ass to one of those tacky fucking rooms before I change my damned mind.
no subject
it's just far too ingrained in her head to keep the 'blade' between them as lappland rises to her feet again. what was she even thinking when she attacked? that lappland would make a pretty corpse, sure, even as she knew it'd break one way or another. maybe she was hoping it'd all devolve to teeth and claws. is that so much for a sarkaz to ask? it's not just oripathy that has her hungering for bloodsports — gone as the myriad souls are now, their cries for carnage will echo forever on in her mind.
but she really can't say it's just that. she watches the way lappland's dress creases as she reorients herself, and when she drifts in close behind to lodge that plastic hilt against lappland's spine, the scent drifting off her wild mane is remarkably dizzying. it's fine; w takes her hostage like she's being paid for it, barring an arm across a chest she can't help peeking down at, and nudges them forward. ]
C'mon, I'll give you a legendary death. Haven't you heard of me? Half the marks I've wasted ended up begging for it the moment they realized who I am.
[ ... there's more to those stories, sure, but they don't matter now as w prods lappland across the ballroom, her traitorous black heart rabbiting noisily in her chest. ]
But like I said, I really do love a hunt. I guess you can help me blow off a little steam before your number's up! Better move your ass to one of those tacky fucking rooms before I change my damned mind.