silver tyrants and goddesses

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? the elysius is indignant, enraged as the feminine perfume of an invader permeates the atmosphere of her misted realm. and the deity detaches herself from her carmine beauty?s enrapturing company with a knowing glower, velveteen lips fluttering to unsheathe the unslaked guillotines that lurk beneath in a silent promise of their unwelcomed guest?s demise. rugged appendages propel the tyrant queen beyond their grotesque chambers? threshold with an aura of ominous contempt as she allows the foreign fragrance to lead her directly to its source, strategically positioning herself downwind of the insipid harlot as triangular ears swivel towards the unknown specter once its accented vocalizations breach the reigning silence of her domain. and her brow yet furrows with confusion as she registers the name of her consort?s former empire upon the ghostly wraith?s tongue, curiosity the sole emotion left to fester within the chasms of her corrupted mind as she contemplates why.



?what of apollyon?? the phantom queen inquires, the cadence of her vocals retaining a hint of DANGER as she unveils her looming presence to the woman whose pallid appearance reflects her own -- albeit with a physique so unimposing { and appealing } in comparison to her own abhorrent and robust. beguiled indifference creeps upon her marred countenance yet her gaze is apt to maintain its disdainful frigidity as it bores into the other?s own violet, demanding answers that she will receive -- one way or the other.