#labyrinthmonarch

@labyrinthmonarch​

Known and known the chemical ingenuity and crystalline genius of his Host and current King, doth Roland come a’fore this welcoming feast--- touch’d in his heart of the thudding breast of flattery, yea, of True compliment granted by the Hierarchy of Faery--- and doth he consume greens and fruits Only. With his hands afforded the silver utensils, his elbows unshorn, and leant forward in a passion of the Spirit, confirms he, thus:

       A WOLF’S GRIN, A MOCKING ONE. “Is it not every day that goblins find a being with whom they actually seem to be horrified by their existence.” He replies, boots crunching the earth beneath him. “You must be a terrifying thing.”

The goblins were afraid of her? The thought was as amusing as it was strange.

As far as Elise was aware the general population of the labyrinth did not have a sense for magic and were thus unaware that she was not a completely ordinary human. Though perhaps being ordinary was terrifying in a place like this.

Not backing down as Jared approached she merely tilted her head in response to his mocking grin.

“Perhaps I am, though they would be unaware of that wouldn’t they?” She mused with a polite smile. “Unless of course, they have a reason to find the presence of a human woman to be frightening.”

Aft a series of bad dreams, snatching hands, and gnarled trees poisoned arguably black by the very rot of a philosophical Corruption, Roland brandishes and blunders and trips in e’en the most graceful manner to pursue himself onto a Sense-blessed Safety, a flat Land, an uncovered hole.

He breaks through a barren treeline with glitter’ng cobwebs in his hair, face, and clothes, and stubs his naked toes onto jagged rock, faces of high cheekbones; ridge’d err of rugged jowls in ever-stone, another galaxy, a separate dimension. The dark whorls of his dreams art bound by their immortal Laws naught to follow, and Roland leans heavily against a brick-layered Wall; heaving audibly in his tender Morning, the lesser End of his thinking Infinity.

He covers his face, and touches at his temples, and leans fully against the stone to refurbish his Sight onto this New Land.

It felt like a dream when Sarah’s eyes locked with the Count across the room. Her heart hammered in her chest as he so effortlessly glided over to her through the crowd. And now here she stood, on the dark balcony as she watched the half lit beauty before her.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, looking up at Jareth as a flush came to her face. “I’m not sure that’s a productive way to look at it. Temptation is a test of restraint, a show of character. Temptation, eventually, will fade. Don’t you think?”

“It’s just the mall, don’t be so dramatic.” Sarah said, steeling her own nerves as they stepped into the bustling building.

Tess feels the smile die on her lips as the meaning of his words begin to seep into her understanding. It’s a slow, dreadful feeling—like watching the pages of a book sink beneath the surface of a puddle in the rain.

Her eyes widen, staring up at his face while the color drains from hers. With a jerk, she glances down at the crusty, warm appetizer in her hand.

Half gone.

She feels the other half drop into her stomach with all the force of a toppling tree.

“Oh no,” comes the last breath from her lungs. She had gotten careless, had forgotten where she was. She had forgotten the rule about accepting food from unfamiliar, powerful fae on their turf—even if they were outwardly friendly.

There was always something.

“And what is it now?” Sarah asked, stopping in her tracks and looking up into those mismatched eyes.