𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚍.

SEND “HOW DID YOU GET THIS?” FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOUR MUSE OBSERVING ONE OF THEIR SCARS.  

|| 🌫 —

     "Fuck off, Talon.”  The words, like venom on her tongue, are hissed as he motions to the scars on her shoulders, questioning her like he was genuinely curious. He was TOYING with her and it made her rage boil even more. 

 Taija’s prosthetics had been removed when she was captured- she had been too weak, too slow, too something and she had been caught. Just another MISTAKE- and now here she was, strapped into a chair by her ankles and waist, her chest heaving as her body tried to fight off the sheer panic that was building. 

SEND “HOW DID YOU GET THIS?” FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOUR MUSE OBSERVING ONE OF THEIR SCARS.  

|| 🌫 —

     Metal fingers come up to brush against the scar that marks her jawline and she is taken back to the intense, painful training that Talon had put her through. 

 In that time, she had agreed and endured it from sheer spite against Vishkar alone. Taija had trusted them after saving her ( just another MISTAKE). But now, in hindsight, it was quite clear that they had been grooming her to become their next weapon, and it wouldn’t have mattered if she had agreed or not. 

 The scar itself was gained from when she wasn’t quick enough to dodge an attack and the wound had been left to fester for a while to cause a worsened mark, courtesy of her generous caretakers.

          It was a constant remind her of how she could never be good enough. Taija then looked to the older man who had questioned her, and it felt like the scar was burning. Her hand dropped to her side as she turned away, uncaring of whatever status he might have held with her cold tone.

                                                            “That’s none of your business.”