WITNESS MY DEMISE
10-03-2014, 01:46 PM
It does not take long for the pristine goddess to make her appearance, her ivory form becoming visible among the heavy mist as she swiftly moves toward the plagued empress. A feeble smile curves the corners of her velveteen lips, her blood-caked eyes struggling to gaze into the mismatched glare of her unbreakable patron. Slowly Artemis steps toward her, laying waste to the distance that separates the diseased from the healthy. Although she desperately wishes to embrace her paramour, she carmine nymph shy's away from her close contact, her skull pulling toward her chest cavity and away from Artemis. She does not want to pass her illness onto the one wolf who has enough potential to keep Apollyon standing, so she acts is weary fashion. A lighthearted chuckle rattles within her chest in response to Artemis' words, because without a healer in Apollyon Art might actually be her only chance at survival. "The gods have plagued me again," She begins, her eyes shifting to align with her mistresses. "and I can feel my crown slipping." She begins to cough after her first sentence, a wave of uncontrollable shivers racking her body from nose to tail. "I don't know if I can be cured, but I will never stop trying to quell this illness. Until then, I fear Apollyon will fall to its knees." She shifts her body to get a bit more comfortable, she can feel the agonizing aches starting to come back to torture her. "Will you take the crown for me, Artemis? Will you hold things down for me until I am well again?" There is a look in her eyes that rarely manages to seep to the surface, the look of weakness and anxiety. She had promised Artemis she would not fail her, and that was exactly what she had done. Would Artemis be there for her in her hour of need, or would she laugh at her pleads for help? Walk "Talk" Think |
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