MY WASP IN A JAR
06-13-2013, 07:55 PM
An imposing chuckle bubbled free of dark jaws, the splintering echo of humour encouraging a twinge of frustration within the russet?s chest. Oh so she was one of those kind? Far too often Eos crossed path?s with the dark, twisted souls that thought it their place to find amusement in every syllable and curl of the tongue. To put it simply, it irritated her greatly. The woman, or ?Medusa? as she so openly introduced herself as, seemed to be enjoying her company; words of disagreement once again floating forth without any evidence of hesitation. Mother. The word still caused a twang of resentment to fizzle her stomach acids; her mother was dead, she had left her children to the cruel ways of the world; no, not by choice, but somehow Eos still reviled her for that. Amusing. Had her mother named her after a greek goddess for a particular reason? She highly doubted it. ?I don?t enjoy my future being decided for me, Medusa. My mother once suggested me a princess, and look where I am now. Surely my name cannot depict how I choose to lead my life? I find it comical you should think so.?
Eos disregarded the fae?s suggestion of entertainment, fa?ade remaining emotionless, unimpressed by the sickeningly charming titles this wench seemed to pride herself in. ?Nobody,? she responded without hesitation to the ebony?s last question, though she knew it withheld greater meaning and curiosity, Eos was hesitant to give it up. She had left her family and old life behind, her parents no longer defined who she was, or who she could be. ?My father is Cairo, Last reigning King of Valhalla,? her voice faded lightly, no evidence of pride held within the softly curling syllables. It was true, her father had been the greatest and longest leading King of Alacritis. But was it really something to boast?
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