it hurts to grow, doesn't it, dove?
but the fourth seat isn't given to successors who simply wait in line.
it is given to those who survive the picking..
lyney is a clever boy, yes. but he is entirely... flesh. you... you have such beautiful, hollow bones ..
( the moonlight filtering into the garden didn't cast shadows—it seemed to be sucked directly into columbina's form. the white flora surrounding them began to weep a clear thick fluid that smelled faintly of ozone and static.
she listened. quietly..
aurelius didn't know if she would have the power to ever overthrow her mother to take her place as the next fourth. it was basically already given to lyney or so she thought, brows furrowing for a moment again.
oh, look at you... cracking out of your shell like a fragile little bird,
( she cooed, her voice a sweet, honeyed contrast to the gruesome display. she tilted her head, the feathers of her own wings rustling with a sound like grinding teeth. )
@godofcryo hm.. i told it to mimic the sound of a loved one's final breath, just to see if your chamber walls would remember it.
if it begins to distort, my queen, please do not look into its center.
close your eyes, count backwards from ten, and listen to the static until I eat it. 🕊️
( a creepy, unsettling smile graces her lips, as she clasps her hands behind her back )
the thought of defeating your very own mother gives you an unexplainable thrill, doesn’t it?
i mean exactly what i mean, sweetheart.
hm .. one can see you overpowering your own mother one day. not in a mere handful of years, but perhaps possibly in centuries or so.
the odd maternal sounding laughter made the corner of her lips pull down into a somewhat of a frown, unsure on how to feel. how to properly respond to such a sound without letting any possible pain or frustration seep through.
like a puzzle you think that fit, but in reality, it quite didn’t. )
its okay, little dove. you’re allowed to be vulnerable infront of me. for i’m not judgemental.
this is * my meadow, i excuse weakness. you’re allowed to be free.
a complex lullaby could heal your deep rooted pain, dearest.
( the thirds voice sounded sympathetic, even more strange, as word has it frequently on just how.. apathetic the entity really was. )
( the damselette chuckled, almost distantly yet strangely, in a way, it sounded maternal. )
dear me, must you be so wary of a wandering.. fallen seraph like me? be not afraid.. my bloodlust are quite under control, compared to the likes
“ i don't believe the earth will continue as you say. i rather my name dies whenever i do. ”
whenever that would be. the sudden cold breeze hit her open wounds causing a faint yelp to leave her lips along with another hoarse cough +
( her mouth didn’t move an inch, but the words clear as day. she didn’t even breathe; not that she required to eitherway. )
countless deaths.. countless weeping.. the weight of exclusiveness. it tastes oh so bitter doesn’t it? not even