#jan2023

As she looks up, you look down, pretending to write something important on the parchment you hold. You’re scribbling words and phrases in romanian. Her gaze is intense on your face. Try as you might to will away the flush rising in your cheeks, your body wins out. 

You can never replicate the same cold distance Mother Miranda maintains. You have no doubt it’s taken ages to perfect; though you have no idea how old the Goddess is—you value your life too much to ask—a mature wisdom rests behind her blue eyes. 

“Your role.” She repeats. Though she doesn’t phrase it as a question, you know it is one. 

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” You start softly, before meeting her eyes. The corners of her mouth are turned down. You square your shoulders, doing your best to summon confidence, “You’ve never allowed me to join a meeting of the Lords before. I don’t understand what use you see in it now.” 

Her wings stop moving. 

You try to keep your gaze from falling. Mother Miranda despises cowardice, but she loathes disrespect. Walking the line of her expectations often feels thinner than that of a tightrope. You have yet to fall. Still, it doesn’t keep your heart from nearly jumping from your chest each time you toe the line too closely. 

Microscope forgotten, she rises and appears before you in an instant. You drop your eyes out of instinct. Mother Miranda makes no effort to change your position. 

Her voice cuts through your chest like a blade, “Do you know what happened the last time someone questioned my judgment, little human?” 

Too afraid that your voice will fail you, you shake your head. 

“I removed his tongue and fed it to him.” 

She says it casually, as if it were a comment on the weather or notes on your experiments, instead of something to make you question your mortality. You have no doubt that she’ll take your tongue in the same way if provoked. She’s fond of making examples, you’ve noticed. It makes you shudder. 

Were it someone else in your position… you wouldn’t bat an eye at her choice of punishment. You would even revel in the curious way she enacted her punishments, though you hated to admit it. She had a monstrous grace about her. 

A finger beneath your chin makes you jump. The metal of her talons scrapes against your skin, though not unpleasantly. You allow her to lead your gaze upwards. She’s swift with punishments usually and you have no desire to prolong your own. 

You open your mouth to her. 

Her eyes widen for just a moment. It’s only a split second; quick enough to make you question if it truly happened. Then to your surprise, the corner of her mouth tilts up. You try to stomp out the pleasure it ignites in your chest. 

You’ve never seen Mother Miranda smile, this is the closest she’s come to it. It’s a sick kind of joy that you derive from her pleasure. You’re so willing to curate this reaction, just to see it, even if it means spelling out your own demise. 

Mother Miranda’s fingers grasp your tongue, the talon on her thumb digging into it. Even as blood fills your mouth, as tears flood your eyes, you watch her face with rapt attention. You watch her smile. You don’t want it to drop away from her lips. 

You swallow down the mouthful of blood and saliva, the metallic tang irritating your throat. Your whole mouth aches. It would be merciful for this to end, but you don’t dare expect anything from your Goddess. She acts as she sees fit and you’re content to let her continue that way. 

She releases your tongue a few moments later. 

“You’re useless to me mute.” 

Waving a hand, she motions for you to leave the room. You waste no time in following her command. She has you trained well.. 

—

Glancing between the Lords, it is a wonder to you how your behavior could be considered disrespectful. The meeting has been derailed by pointless squabbling nearly a dozen times in under an hour. All the while, you remain silent, watching in a muted sort of horror. 

You can’t begin to piece together how they accomplish anything. 

It had begun the second Mother Miranda entered, you following at her back. The Lords had been stunned into a moment of silence before Lady Dimitrescu spoke first. You tried to ignore the effect her words had on you as she practically purred them. Even now, they still play over again in your mind, creating a coiling feeling in your stomach. 

“How kind of you to bring such a morsel with you, Mother Miranda.” 

Where your eyes had been focused on the floor, carefully measuring your steps behind the Goddess, you glanced up at the Lady’s words. You couldn’t breathe when you met the eyes of the Countess. There was a sly smirk across her lips, a twisted warmth in her eyes. You couldn’t help but feel enamored with the woman. She was easily one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, a perfect, warm opposite to your Goddess. 

But her smirk had vanished the second Miranda’s eyes cut to her. Her wings had tensed, a sneer crossing her mouth. You could feel the temperature drop when the Goddess ordered Lady Dimitrescu to keep her impulses to herself. 

An odd feeling lodged in your chest when the smirk fell from the lips of the Countess. Something brief crossed behind her eyes, beautiful as they were, before they settled on you. She was quickly distracted as Lord Heisenburg proceeded to badger her. 

You can almost perfectly recount the way the Lady’s face twisted in an intriguing display of anger, when something closes sharply around your ankle, “Ouch!” 

Though you’re sure your Goddess is speaking, you have no idea what is saying as she stops. Her eyes turn to you. Everyone’s eyes turn to you. 

A bout of maniacal laughter comes from near your feet. Sitting there, wooden mouth clasped around your ankle, is Angie—Donna’s doll. You try to shake your leg, kick out to remove her. It only makes you hiss as the joint of her mouth catches your skin. 

Mother Miranda is before you when you look up. She levels a look into your eyes before she reaches down, digging her claws into the back of Angie’s neck. The doll releases your leg to complain and fight against her hold. Miranda’s eyes don’t leave you as she tosses Angie away, the doll landing on her feet and scampering back to her maker. 

Then her attention is gone, “Control your pet, Donna.”

Mother Miranda resumes her speech, but all you can focus on is the throbbing of your ankle. You glance down to see a pool of red blood dripping from the wound where Angie’s joint caught you. The heat of a gaze makes you look up. 

You’re not surprised Lady Dimitrescu focused on you. 

Her eyes slide down to your wound, pin-point pupils focusing on the slow drip, drip, drip of your blood. She looks back up at your face before turning her attention back to Mother Miranda. The attention—and subsequent lack thereof—leaves you feeling impossibly warm. 

The meeting continues, though you struggle to listen to any of it. Lady Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda seem to take turns making you the center of their attention. You’re left hot and cold by the trading of their stares. 

Mother Miranda levels you with a knowing look, accusation in her eyes—You’re not listening. You greatly fear what would happen should you continue the way you are. So you will yourself to listen, ignoring the way Lady Dimitrescu’s stare makes you want to melt. Ignoring how you’d much rather lose yourself in the eyes of these two women. 

It’s an impossible task, but luckily you’re capable of making it possible. 

You latch onto what little you know; The Cadou and its capabilities to create life–or rather, pervert it. The distinction is neither here nor there. Mother Miranda explains the proper conditions for the Cadou to take root for what she requires; and it goes without saying that your research together is the reason the conditions are understood. Every Lord in the room can read between the lines and it takes a lot to stop you from preening. 

“I’ve found a suitable host for my plans,” Mother Miranda says and you nod, before stopping. She didn’t tell me that, your mind whispers, “In a few weeks I’ll be pursuing them. Until then, I need every preparation to be made for my return.” 

The words ring through your chest, bouncing off the walls of your heart. You should be thrilled Mother Miranda has found a host. All of your hard work is paying off, but you can’t stop wondering where this leaves you. In a few short weeks you’re of no use. Mother Miranda will release you back into the village, back to a boring little life without so much as a thank you. 

You continue to jot down notes, but you have no idea what they say. You barely hear the words beyond remembering to write them down for your Goddess. Useless, your mind pokes and prods, you’re going to be useless. The thought hurts more than the idea of dying at the hands of your Goddess. At least then you’d have her full attention for a few more moments. 

So caught up in your mind, you fail to notice when the meeting ends. Your body remains perfectly cold. Not even the gaze Lady Dimitrescu offers as she leaves can warm you. It isn’t until Mother Miranda addresses you that you come back into your mind. 

“Your thoughts are very loud, little human.” She notes.

Mother Miranda walks to your side which gives you pause; in all your time working with the woman, she’s never walked. She appears in a flutter of wings or moves in the span of a blink. You watch her moves warily. The wings at her back are perfectly still and you can’t decide if that is good or bad. 

“I apologize, Mother Miranda.” 

Your apology goes ignored. Her eyes square in on your still-bleeding ankle, wings twitching at her back. You make no effort to stand from your chair and she stays standing above you. She begins to move before seeming to think better of it. If you didn’t know any better, you would think she intended to kneel. Instead, she holds out a hand. 

You lift your leg and offer the wound to her. She examines it as she examines everything–with a cool, critical eye. You watch her as you always do–with barely restrained admiration. 

“Spilling your blood was not the goal of this meeting.” Mother Miranda says. She rubs the flat of her palm over the open wound, collecting the blood there. You watch as it disappears from her hand. Her actions feel strangely like an apology, a fact that makes you squirm. 

“I should hope it isn’t the goal of any meeting, Mother Miranda,” You speak before you censor your mouth. Eyes widening, you rush to correct yourself, “but I wouldn’t dare to question your will.” 

“And why not?” 

“You… You’re a Goddess. Your will is divine.” 

“You believe Gods are incapable of making errors?” She asks slowly. The way her eyes focus on you makes you overly aware of every move you make. 

“I’ve never thought about it before,” You answer honestly, “I never believed it was my place to question higher powers.” 

Though it's the truth, you fear uttering it. You’ve been reprimanded for far less in your life. And with a being like Mother Miranda, it is impossible to tell if you’re pleasing or disappointing her with such honesty. Though you hope to believe it is the former. 

Her eyes trace the planes of your face like she’s never seen them. You allow the action, though confusion takes root in your chest. 

She changes the conversation like nothing was shared, “Donna lacks control over that doll. I have half a mind to remove the damned thing.” 

But I won’t, the words lay thick in the air. You want to ask why. You want to ask her a million questions, but keep your mouth shut, lest you toe that thin line again. Except… your curiosity over one detail eats at you, until you force words from your lips. 

“The doll holds a piece of Lady Beneviento, is that correct?” 

She nods. 

“Is it not right to believe that Lady Beneviento lacks control over herself, then? If Angie is an extension.” 

“My wings are a piece of me, but they exist and act outside of me. It isn’t enough for Donna to control herself. Angie may be a manifestation, but she has sentience apart from her.” 

“Almost like a child.” You add. 

A flicker behind your Goddesses eyes gives you pause. It holds something eerily similar to pain, but you can’t imagine anything touching her in such a way. You want to know more, but don’t dare ask. 

“Yes, like a child.” 

“I see.” 

And for once, you do see. 

You understand how her mind works for a split second. It is enough to leave you intrigued, eager for more. Mother Miranda is cruel, of course, but doesn’t lack fairness. She may punish the parent for the actions of the child, but she won’t punish the child for the shortcomings of the parent if she can help it. She… cares, in a small, confusing way. You’ve never known her to care for anything beyond her experiments. 

When you meet her eyes, you can see a softening around edges you once believed to be hard. She is just as much woman as she is God. Mother Miranda seems to sense this change in your thoughts. You can’t stop seeing the softness even as she distances herself. 

She lets your leg drop and turns away, throwing over her shoulder, “Come along.” 

1 - 08/01/2023 : starting the year off well with my fave girlies <3 a bit sketchy but i still really love Ru's expression

2 - 11/01/2023 : eepy. the lil 34 y.o lady. has a house and a job and is a whole 34 y.o 6'4 tall woman but shes just so.....

3, 4 - 16/01/2023 : little. Ru in that style i draw myself in for some reason. also a Toni drawing i think is better unexplained

5 - 21/01/2023 : epic Rusty moment.. i love her a lot, im also projecting, she bi as hell

6, 7 - 22/01/2023 : some of my fave drawings of Toni n Ru, esp Toni like shes so delightful

8, 9 - 22/01/2023 : Reagan from inside job teehee, idr if i just finished the series up to whenever it was at this point, or if i just wanted to draw her, i forget, but there she is :) also another Rusty, another of my fave drawings probably of the year as a whole, shes so cute

10, 11 - 25/01/2023 : another nother Rusty, not as happy with this one but i liked the idea of drawing her before she was salvaged, yes i will add angst to a show for 5 year olds who are now 20-somethings, i am the target demographic and i WILL be cringe about it

Also another Ru, i really like this one, i was stuck for awhile on perfecting her side profile, i really like it here, i probs still struggle with it, i struggle with side profiles in general, but i want to get it right with her in particular bc her nose shape is just delightful