The simple words of ' I love you ' are in fact too much. Consuming. Encompassing.
Humans and Animals and Insects and Beasts and Gods and Devils and Rain all feel it-- That's what Maz'n has gathered.
To need, to draw, to want, yearn, heat, hurt, safety, aggression, cold, fear, violence, lust, blood, ribs, apples, fuel, destruction, repulsion, hunger, starvation, love.
All of it is love. The longer they study it, the more they want to see it.
Its grotesque nature, however, seems too often rounded out into a romance so palatable. For they love this as well, Maz'n would never complain, but his eye on occasion falls upon a human just as uniquely GROTESQUE as the emotion itself, that he must watch and listen; a man with veins overflowing with love and neglect, both. a madness. a frustration. a man changed and consumed by love, and then abandoned. an inseverable tie, corrupted by a faery.
How unfair, he supposes, with pity.
It is with this pity, this sympathy, this graciousness
, that Maz'n slashes @undeific's stomach
An invisible blade and invisible hand; with no trace of culprit, it may seem surprising, unprompted, frightful -- but its purpose is nestled in shape and size and color, as it mirrors that which once belonged to the friend, to Shinra.
It does not bleed out; the color of love only coats the surrounding skin, as of now. From the wound, flowers sprout and seal away the odds of fatality. Their roots plunge into the stomach and up the esophagus -- lovely petals of every shape climb into the mouth.
Disgusting. Choking. Inhibiting and vulnerable. Coated with muddy saliva, a body is sure to convulse and repel.
Is this, too, love?
Tis not fatal. For now. To settle his curiosity, Maz'n kicks the human's phone to the ground, left with [ HIS ] name blaring in bright letters.
