FAST TRACK TO AN EARLY GRAVE
11-09-2014, 11:47 AM
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? she writhes through the spires of stone mechanically -- almost subconsciously -- mismatched gaze perceiving her surroundings yet her thoughts too overwhelming to truly register the topography. it is not until the feminine aroma { entwined with the rotting stench of blood } permeates the atmosphere that the tyrant?s schemes are momentarily discarded, skull rotating in the direction from whence the fragrance emanates as ardent pupils ravage the familiar physique of her brother?s sovereign. and velveteen lips tweak with the faintest hint of sardonic amusement as the silver wraith lays waste to the distance that separates one tyrant from the next, infiltrating the proverbial lion?s den with an astounding lack of caution. for it is known that the elysius? wrath is unpredictable! and it is no secret that she had yearned to inflict it upon the negligent queen herself in a former life. but the silver?s inquiry extracts a bout of mirthless laughter from the phantom deity, velveteen lips contorting with a cheshire grin so haunting; yet her smirk fails to extend to the eyes. no -- they retain their frigidity as they fixate upon cataleya?s own coral, as if to bore into the depth?s of the monarch?s soul! -- testingly. ?and leave you to terrorize alacritia on your own?? she remarks with feigned bewilderment, brows ascending upon her lacerated forehead to refine her bemused facade. ?i wouldn?t dream of it.? the elysius? beguiled shock dissipates from her porcelain countenance as her infamous smirk resurfaces, pupils wavering from the arcanum queen?s own to further scrutinize the woman?s behemoth exterior. and the scars that riddle the silver?s pretty flesh are noted duly as the former tyrant contemplates whether or not her once-adversary had developed enough of a backbone in her absence, though the curiosity over what, exactly, had occurred still lingers within the hindmost portion of her pestilent mind. ?is the boy as weak as when i tore from him his pride?? she queries indifferently, all traces of emotion draining from abhorrent features as she fixes the silver sovereign with her prying stare. she need not elaborate as to whom she is referring to -- she knows the woman before her is not daft, nor does she believe that the queen will praise her brother for any conquests he might have achieved in her season-long hiatus -- if he had any to his name at all. |