@carnimaw
how strange. with their touch, they were linked, though it felt little from her. just enough to speak with her, within her mind, as it did to all it touched. not enough to see … not clearly. it rolls its tongue between its teeth as it regards what she’s doing. “ my, i must say, you’ve a mind like an iron fist. “ it croons. the creatures disembodied voice would be audible just between her ears, echoing out from the base of skull, blooming from nowhere and everywhere at once. it is a strange event indeed to be tethered to the mind of another. “ i’m curious and, finding no answers in silence, i ask: what do you hope to achieve with this? “ & it flexes its wounded ( slowly, slowly stitching together ) form in query. “ helping … me, that is. “
it had been immediately hostile when she appeared. calmed shortly after. as it breathed ( short, wary huffs ) it rumbled, halfway between a growl and a pained sound. she was helping. she seemed to be helping. hex wasn’t entirely sure how help would manifest itself, exactly, but she wasn’t making things worse, so she was allowed to stay. SCP-0X had wrenched its tail through a significant amount of scrap metal. there was an awful lot of it around here. it had torn and chipped at its scales, tugged some of them off, sliced through then in other places. it was no bother. the sheer amount of lacerations meant that it was just … having minor trouble closing them as quickly as usual, and one — the one that she applied a firm pressure to — was proving a particular chore to heal.
A STRANGE QUIRK OF HER YOUTH HAD BEEN HER LOVE OF BEASTS. Horses, in particular, had always garnered her adoration. If she so much as saw the drawn image of a horse today - HEISENBERG’S CREST, YOU SEE - she might give herself an aneurysm trying not to roll her eyes so hard that they might disappear. In any case, the practicalities of beast taming had floated to the fore of her mind once more like a long since drowned carcass, something buried in youth and resurfaced now. The creature before her was most certainly in need : large and gushing blood. even through its original hissy-fit she’d kept pressure on the largest wound, hushing and shushing as she went. SHE COULD SMELL THE BLOOD . A voice comes from within her head, not unlike when voices previous MIRANDA’S had looked to punish her for some trite infraction, and her mouth pulls into a concentrated frown. The creature speaks that way, it would seem. And that is fine - a little unusual, a little untoward. Certainly, if it can read her thoughts then that is rancorous indeed , but all creatures are abnormal. Her eyes widen a little. Perhaps this is a sign that Mother Miranda is on her way home, and a strange atrocity such as this sires her path home. Its voice is soft in the way that meat is, lovely and unnerving as the night. “ WHAT A FOOLISH QUESTION . ” The Lady is a creature herself who focuses her mind very little on WHY a thing is, and instead on HOW a thing ought to be. Lady Dimitrescu is tired, returning from a visit to BENEVIENTO’S house where she never said : i am very lonely, very tired, very starved . In response to the statement-that-had-not-been, her sister had said what she would have said to anything : nothing. In her disciplined listlessness, she had smelled them, had sought them out, had seen them here in the snow-filled dark. A Countess ought help an injured beast on HER PROPERTY where it seems that the beast isn’t so injured as to need a merciful killing. The creature is probably attempting to distract itself from the pain by asking, of course, so she purses her lips. “ Need I speak aloud ? Or simply think to you ? ” She asks. That can be its discursive meat. Her gloved hands PRESS HARD to seal the wound. It looked like it had dragged itself through the factory at the edge of the Village. TSK TSK TSK ! It makes her inhale sharply to feel such thunderous thumps of blood coming out against her gloves. A cold laugh, for the benefit of her little oddity here, escapes her wine-dark lips. It is so funny, she thinks, that they know her only as this, as if she were a nurse, as if she were a maid. “ WHY ? SHOULD I NOT HELP ? ” She is teasing.
