silver tyrants and goddesses

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? suspicion leaks from pallid pores as she gazes upon the nubile whore, a singular brow ascending upon her grotesque countenance as she awaits the inevitable retort. yet as the harlot mutters a single syllable in response, thickly-accented vocals evading the momentary silence of their enigmatic surroundings, the tyrant queen glides into closer proximities to the wench, vexation boiling beneath her rigid exterior. ?is it,? the phantom states stiffly, pallid skull sloping faintly to her right with feigned curiosity as she drills the familiar woman with a stare so glacial. ?-- and what a short translation for such a lengthy statement,? the deity notes, bitter contempt lacing her cynical retaliation. yet she presses no further on the matter, disinterest prevailing through her skepticism. for her carmine beauty?s empire may have crumbled, yet their empress will once more reign supreme over the realm this harlot had infiltrated.



velvet nostrils quiver to inhale the wraith?s scent, a frown chiselling indifferent features as she registers the familiarity of the aroma shrouding this italian minx -- the same perfume that plagued her once-sibling. ?you are cataleya?s pet?? she queries warily, indignance sluggishly festering within steel veins. ?you have no place here, dove, lest you intend to leave with spoiled beauty.? the threat is prominent -- true -- and the tyrant queen will cling to it relentlessly.