flowers for the broken spirit//@snowstormsnowqueen
Sweetly-scented smoke filled the circular ceremonial hall, and Summer sat, waiting in the center of the atrium, before the altar where the incense burned. The coven filed in, black robes trailing the ground, in stark contrast to the white of Summerâs gown fanned out around her on the floor.
It was a simple garment aside from how the edges were cut to resemble the petals of a lily when seated in this position.
A flower of devotion. Purity. Rebirth, motherhood-
-and death.
Petals meant to cleanse the deceased, to restore innocence as they passed in life.
Each of her hands, shielded only by a bridal glove, were held by Ruby and Yang on either side. Both of her eyes were shrouded in a blindfold of black lace, and serenity canvased the room as everyone took their place.
With a minute squeeze of either girlsâ hands, they released hers and Summer folded them over her heart, like a corpse waiting to go under.
Her senses, she allowed to slip away. Ruby and Yang picked up the pitchers on either end of the altar, tipping the contents over the crown of Summerâs head.
She couldnât let herself feel the cold. None of the energy from the forces around her were for her to feel anymore. It was a constant motion, and she was only the vessel for it to pass through, to change its shape. The water sluiced down her hair, her cheeks, her body, and as she parted her lips with a sigh, rose-colored flames lit the dozens of sconces lining the walls.
And then, she sang. For one of the lost...
-for someone sheâd failed.
Her lips caressed the words like she was guiding each one through a birth. The song rose up from the depths of her body and she mourned in every breath, head tipping back.
The voice possessed her, completely. Summer Rose was emptied into the room, into the air, comforting the frightened and stretching battered wings around the weary.Â
A memory filled her that she could not read. It was not hers to keep, only to borrow. A lost had curled up into the vessel of her body, fleeing from the dark. A hand stretched out and she slowly lifted a bell from the altar. Unseen to her, Ruby and Yang watched, lifting a wrist each, to which were attached bells of their own. In unison, the three rang, and the first of the families made their way forth. Two young boys, brothers, approached and knelt, placing their hands upon the altar. The elder of the two tried very hard not to let the emotion show in his eyes for the youngerâs sake, but the effort was plain in his eyes.
Through Summerâs body, a young voice spoke, though it carried the calming timbre of its host. Her arms extended, and the children went around the altar to sink into her arms as she stroked their hair and murmured to them with the words of their elder sister.
âWhat I did wasnât a waste. So donât cry for me so much-all will be well. Raven will watch over you. Sheâll make you stronger. So donât give up. I love you. I love you...â
The young boys, having held back tears for so long, finally collapsed at that, sobbing. Summerâs arms were tight around them, and it was several long moments before they stood up, holding one another as they returned to the crowd.
....
......
A wave of dizziness hit Summer as her spirit stitched itself back into place, weary and taxed. She swayed momentarily with the force of it, and then-
-she did the whole process over again.
And again.
....
............
Where-
Who am I...
Where is-am I, where am I, who am I-
How many are-are left....?
.........
She never kept the memories from-
-from this. They werenât hers, she wasnât-
-real-?
No-
Please, who am I, please-whereâs my-where am I-
.....................
The first three....yes, sheâd sang for three.
The fourth. By the fourth, she was trembling, hands clutched over her chest as she hunched, breathy and panting through every word of the song. The echoes of the dead cried out all around her, begging to come back, to live again-
I hear you-I hear you, Iâm so sorry--
She didnât let herself feel it, she gave it up like she gave everything else up, let it all become an offering-
-take my voice, take my body-
Forcing herself with herculean effort, she swayed until her back was straight, fingers clawing at her throat with some sort of phantom instinct, as though she were trying to dig out the words themselves from the broken earth-let them live again-let them, Iâm nothing-Iâm-Iâm-
Like a soaked cloth, she wrung herself for every inflection until nothing more could come, until she was lost to the ethereal hum of the undead, singing to her, with her. Reaching into her throat, raking the inside as they tried to find home-
She was deaf and blind to all that happened on the mortal plane. She did not perceive the ripple of concern sweeping through the crowd of those that dared not interfere. She could not hear how Ruby and Yang sniffled, scared that she would go too far.
Her voice strained and the flames flickered in the haunting echoes that filled the room. If, in the beginning, her voice was meant to guide another through a birth, by now, it was her own funereal lament, desperate to be more than something she could only barely manage. Her every sorrow and regret bled out of her voice and the pale of her throat was speckled with reddened crescent imprints, agony ravaging her delicate body.
.....
Finally-
..........
The fourth, done.
Summer swayed deliriously and nearly fainted, hands quivering and covering her ears.
I. Hear. A. Sound.
I. Hear. A. Sound-
The blindfold soaked up the outpouring of tears that flowed silently, though she struggled so much that it spread in the entirety of the space inside of it.
I have to-
-canât--hurts, oh please----
--Iâm scared-
â...Ghhn...!â Summer heaved, hugging herself and doubling over as though afraid sheâd disappear, huge gasps rattling her body.
--
Hands, on her cheeks, lifting her up. Her arms swayed helplessly, lips parted in a croak.
âHhh...hh-â
Summer pawed for the hands at her cheek with weak motions, for safety, for mercy, eyelids fluttering, and felt her chest caving as she was set back down into place.
A sob had barely passed her lips as Raven snatched Yangâs pitcher and threw the contents into Summerâs face.
It was as though the force of the water itself had knocked her over. Shocked and hurt, she crumpled to the ground with a silent cry, sprawled, disgraced, across the floor at her daughterâs feet. A gasp tore through the crowd as true distress showed in every one of their faces for their matriarch, who they swore devotion to, who they knew they could not usurp the pride of by stepping in against her captain of the guard.
âGet up,â Raven hissed, âGet up! Did Vernal die for nothing?! For you to lay there useless?!â Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears as she railed, âSheâs lost without the matriarch to guide her! She deserves to come home-!â
She spun on Ruby and wrenched the pitcher from the sobbing girlâs hands.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Such were the rules that kept Summer kneeling, head bowed deferentially, as Salemâs presence choked the room, extinguished the candlelight along the wall as she formed from mist, pooling from the shadows at everyoneâs feet and centralizing in the center of the room before Summer.
She controlled her terror-
She controlled her terror.
She had to count them, the breaths, that she needed to take. There was a saying amongst their coven, in a hunt, or a fight. Catch up on the breath before you need it. Her delicate shoulders were squared tightly, rigid, but her chest expanded with deep breaths, collapsed with exhale as the reality set in.
Reality. Reality. Winter is here, even if I may not look up to see. I can trust that she will keep the children from watching, that she already has hands around Ruby and Yangâs eyes, that they are so tight to her sides that they wonât feel the brunt of the fright.
âSummer Rose.â Salem intoned with a sardonic twist of her lips that Summer didnât need to see to know was present. âRecite for me, to everyone, your crime.â
âI have broken the seal you placed upon a human with my own blood. I have overwritten the magic law of an ancient.â
âA human, you say?â She gave a throaty chuckle, âMy, but youâll need to be more specific. Itâs not like there was ever just the one of mine. Speak the name aloud. Try again.â
âI-have broken the seal upon Winter. I destroyed the binds put in place by an ancient.â
Salem extended a hand, and a portal opened to the side of her, out of which flew her usual haunt: a Seer Grimm, crystalline and spherical in appearance, with several long tendrils hanging down. Even though Summer could not see it from her position, she could feel the malevolent energy pouring off of it in waves. Salemâs hand dropped to her side and one tendril dipped below Summerâs chin, lifting her face with a ghost-like touch.
âAnd why did you do it?â
Summer swallowed firmly, spoke clearly and carefully, her sight deferred to the side subserviently.
âThe laws, while old, are...wrong.â A near-silent gasp shuffled the assembly of the coven, eyes so wide with fright that Summer could see the whites of them.
Much to everyoneâs surprise, Salem only chuckled behind a hand.
âAt the very least, you are forthright in your answer.â Salemâs robes swept the ground as she closed the space between the two of them, knelt down to press her lips close to Summerâs ear.
â...Even if you are indirect as ever, courting my favorite toy.â
The whisper rattled her slightly, though it only showed on Summerâs expression as a widening of her eyes.
âYou possess a unique ability, do you not, Summer Rose? The power to commune with the dead, to invite them into this plane once more?â
âYes, mistress.â Even if they were forbidden from using her name, addressing her without any title at all was as good as suicide. Even if the word tasted of acid in her mouth, it was only a word.
âSplendid. It just so happens that I have need of your ability. Demonstrate this power to me right here...and I will show leniency in your punishment.â
Summer clenched her teeth. Something was wrong about this, even if her skin werenât already crawling at the idea of inviting someone among the departed to so unholy a ceremony. But Salem had not asked her. Had not given her a choice.
âLift your hand for me.â
Summer extended her hand, watching as Salemâs fingers spiraled around it, as she drew a cipher in ash against her palm with her other fingertip. When it was drawn, Salemâs grip twisted around Summerâs palm until both of their fingers pointed upright, then dragged her nails down the inside of Summerâs hand.
â--!â
Summerâs mouth opened silently, eyes growing wider, teeth clenching, as memories that were not her own assailed her.
âWinter...Winter, wake up-come back to me-â
A woman who she could only discern in the vacancy of Winterâs haunted eyes, whose reflection revealed a woman with short, sable hair and smoldering ember eyes that flickered like a flame struggling in the rain.
A woman who acted out, diverting attention from her friend the only way she was able.
One who exchanged trembling kisses in the dark, fragile things, with Winter, who held her through the worst of it when they were taken together-
Summerâs revulsion tore through her, hideous understanding dawning.
This person...her soul was absolutely in turmoil. She had so much left tethering her to the mortal plane, things she wanted to say that were only meant for one womanâs ears.
She shook her head slowly, still stricken with the shock of what sheâd seen.
She...still, would try to hurt Winter this way...
â...No. I will not call them to this place.â Summer finally refused after a pregnant pause, speaking out of turn.
Her retribution was an immediate blow across the face, with nails, sending her to the ground with three angry lines carved over her cheek, swelling with blood already. She bit down on her cheek to keep from crying out.
âWhat a mouth on you. What a grand and intoxicating innocence. To have the audacity to entertain my commands as though you would obey.â Salem spat upon her cheek, clicking her tongue. âGet up. Face me.â She hissed.
Summer methodically pieced herself together, coordinated herself into a seated position once more, staring up at Salem as her hand slid perfectly over Summerâs mouth, gripping her jaw with vicelike tightness. She felt...She felt bone, shifting, momentarily, and then it was gone, and as her hand drew back, a muzzle of shadow had appeared in its place.
A void, meant to suffocate, meant to allow for an echo. A hideous, evil device, meant to induce despair; Summer could sense the horror felt by its previous victims swarming up, into her nose, her throat-
--Winter.
Where all else had failed so far to break her, feeling Winterâs cries welling in her own throat had tears forming immediately. Before she could even think to struggle, Salemâs pet had coiled its tendrils out, bound her around her mid-section, pinned her arms to her back and twisted, tied them together behind her. Salem sat in front of her, drawing claws across her clavicle, her shoulder blades, as she shifted the fabric of her dress down around her shoulders. Summerâs eyes widened like a frightened animalâs, but she said nothing, forced herself to silence, even as her tears flowed ceaselessly.
âShhh, shh...â Salem crooned mockingly, running her fingers through Summerâs hair before wrenching her down, making her lay her cheek upon Salemâs lap like a petulant child. Summer...could feel her taking her time drawing her hair back, away from her shoulders, as though she were admiring her, and it made her skin crawl. The mask over her mouth and throat was filling her soul with the screams of everyone who had suffered before her, but all she could focus on were those of Winterâs. To call it torture would be a gross understatement. Sick with grief, eyes cloudy, she let Salem pet and stroke her, the exposed skin of her back with one hand, the angle of her jaw with another, suffocating her with her touch.
âSo many rules, broken.â Salem mused, tapping a nail against Summerâs cheek. âYour correction will not be over quickly.â A wave of one hand, and time itself warped around Summerâs body, her consciousness. Seconds stretched to full minutes, minutes felt like hours. Words trickled into her consciousness between the screams, the crying, that was not her own.
âYou will suffer, most beautifully, my pet.â
In the hand not caressing Summerâs face, framing her for Winter to see, a silver athame appeared, its tip beginning to trace along Summerâs squirming back.
âMama?â Ruby began, in the way that denoted that she was going to beg prettily for a treat or a favor, loosely plaiting a long, silky lock of her motherâs auburn hair.
âAlright. What have you done now?â Summer hid a smile behind the lacy, bell-like sleeve of her gown, eyes sparkling with mirth as her daughterâs mouth dropped open another centimeter.
âN-Nothing!â
âI know, rosebud. Iâll not tease you. You wanted to ask me if you could stay and play in the garden after Iâm all done?â Ruby nodded, eyes hopeful.
Summerâs fingers trailed the yellowing edges of the leaves of her nightshade, carefully, closely examining.
âThe leaves are sick...â She frowned. â...If you are gentle with the plants, and speak nicely to them to aid their mending, and you are back safely before sunrise-â
âYes mama! Thank you!â
Ruby nuzzled up against her side and Summer cupped her face and mouthed her cheek with a tiny nip of affection, petting her hair and rubbing their noses. Ruby pulled a plain black ribbon from her pocket and left the strand of hair half unbraided, tying it in at the midpoint loosely. Under the open sky of the circular courtyard, only the full moon, the luminescent afterglow of spectral butterflies, and the flickering of torchbugs illuminated the scene. To one without the blessing of vision in the dark, only vague silhouettes with no particulars would be discernible.
But even with such blessings, neither Summer nor Ruby noticed Ravenâs arrival until sheâd slammed the wrought iron gate closed behind her, dragging a magic-bound woman in along the ground by the back of her neck.
âRuby-â Summerâs voice was taut with concern stretched over a layer of barely concealed ire, â-leave here. Now.â
âB-But-â
Before she could protest, her familiar had manifested from the shadows, an inky black beowolf with red eyes and maw, nudging at her haunches with its snout urgently, growling low in his throat. Summerâs mouth tensed, knowing that he only growled when he sensed ill will that could manifest itself in attack.
Ruby, thankfully, did not press the issue. She dusted her skirts and pat her beastâs fur before breaking into a run and leaving the garden through the opposite side.
Summer exhaled and rubbed her brow.
âOh, donât give me that. You havenât heard what she did. Who she killed. So sorry to interrupt your tip-toe-through-the-tulips playtime with your daughter, but this is important.â
âJust as well,â Summerâs voice was supernaturally steady, calm, âwould you prefer if next time I brought a known danger right before your daughter?â
âShe wouldnât be a danger to my daughter,â Raven hissed through clenched teeth, âif youâd let her drink from this bitch who slaughtered Vernal, slaughtered four of our own alongside her!â
Summerâs hand rose in horror, first to her mouth, dropping to her heaving chest.
âH-How...can that-we were-â
âHelping, I know.â Raven all but spat the word. A settlement that would have crumbled in a month regardless, or been overrun by bandits in a week if they were lucky. The loss we suffered was pointless, Summer! Pointless, and great! You think weâd ever be able to coexist with these sun-dwelling murderers? Regular humans are bad enough, they fear us at best, or try to cut us open to see what makes us tick at worst. This is a vampire hunter, Summer, and sheâll kill again if left to her devices. The others agree that she should be made an example of. And look-there, upon her throat-â Raven jerked the woman upright, pulling down her blouse by one shoulder, exposing the curling lettering upon her neck:
This vessel is only cattle. Feed freely.
âA blood slave already. Sheâll have a grudge. We should drain her for every drop before tossing her husk into the riv-â
âEnough, Raven.â The wind in the garden ceased. Leaves that had been drifting and lilting on the breeze dropped like flies. âYouâll not insult Vernalâs memory, nor anyone elseâs, by suggesting the very same senselessness that you condemn.â Summerâs voice was firm, but a poignant sorrow filled her every breath. I donât expect, nor want you to forgive, or to not grieve the loss-I...â Her voice trembled. âI feel it. I promise I do. But you are-not of right mind to settle this affair. You need to go. Grieve. Shout and rail and cry if you must-it isnât fair, I know it isnât, and itâs my responsibility now to right what can be righted. You do what you must, and I will do as I should as well. Release her bindings.â
âWhat?!â Ravenâs expression was incredulous, but Summer did not waver.
âIf someone truly wants to kill, they tend to find a way no matter how heavy their chains. I am not afraid to die for my principles, if I must. If she kills me, youâll succeed me. And you may repeat centuries worth of mistakes without my interference.â
âSummer-â Raven warned, her tone cowed, trembling with great emotion, â-I canât...protect you if you wonât let me...â
â...I know. Leave us.â
With a nod of finality and dismissal, Summer watched as Raven undid the bonds and left for the gate, casting one last glance over her shoulder before vanishing.
In the darkness, Summer approached, knelt beside the woman. Her hands were raw and bloodied, and she was bruised all over. A broken bird, Summer felt herself thinking, pity in her heart.
Slowly, she slid a cool hand against her swollen cheek, magic flowing through her fingers to numb the pain.
â...You are with fever, as well. Can you stand?â Summerâs voice was soft, calm, almost motherly. âYour wounds will need tending.â Even though the garden was shrouded in darkness, the flickering torchbugs shed light that stretched the shadows of delicate lace sleeves, briefly illuminating her slender hands, the curious, concerned widening of her eyes.
The settlement was just outside the patrol borders for the already thinly spread contingent of guardsman that kept the nearby village safe. She haunted the tavern for news over her dinner that night as she always had, met with a haggard woman who was begging at the entryway on her knees for someone to help, and so desperate she looked that even if she were not to have mentioned vampires congregating nearby, Summer would still have alighted immediately.
With weathered hands sheâd clasped Summerâs in hers, bowing her head excessively in thanks, and she lead her back.
The people of the settlement had the frightened, harried looks of those who had gone hungry and sleepless for too long. What remained of the buildings were barely held together, and even though Summer knew that guardsmen needed to draw borders somewhere...it appalled her, the amount of damage that this place had suffered.
When they asked her how much it would be to clear the lakeside cave, she simply shook her head.
âI am already going to earn enough in information to meet my needs.â She lied kindly, âPray, do not trouble yourselves on my account.â
âThen-at least let us put you up for the night! It has grown dark, and even if youâre experienced, thereâs no reason to fight them at their strongest!â
âYes, weâll ready the best room in the inn, and a meal-â
They chattered, lively, and seeing the enthusiasm in their faces made Summer hesitant to refuse. If it would really please them, and they gave only what they were able, it would be cruel to dash those hopes.
She resolved to be as little burden as possible during her stay. She ate and drank with them, suspecting nothing of the drugged provender, asleep in her seat with a swoon as a draught of impure water passed her lips.
---
When Summer woke, the sting of chill air caressed her body and she groaned as she tried to right herself. A metallic clang rang through the acrid air as she did so, and she felt the weight of metal circling her neck, heard the clinking of its attached chain as she tried to pull back from-
-She couldnât see what from. Her eyes were covered with a cloth that smothered all light. Her wrists flexed experimentally at the digging metal binding them together in front of herself, and she sucked in a breath as she tried to move her feet. They were the only limbs she could manipulate in any meaningful way, and all she could do was sit herself up off of what felt like a pile of rabbit pelts on the ground and lean against the damp wall.
âAah, our little lamb is awake.â
âIt would seem so.â
She recognized the voices, but not the cruel edge that had tinged them so.
My...weapons are gone, She realized, as though from a great distance away, and they...
She felt her every hair stand on end as she realized why it was so cold. Her clothes were-gone, and she was wrapped in little more than a tied sheet, arms, legs, shoulders, all exposed-
Why did they ache, why, why-
The phantom sensations came, outlines of mouths against her skin and teeth plying down in her sleep.
...
When did they come in?
Move, do something-!
Her body screamed silently as her delirious mind fought to remain conscious-something hurt very badly, but she couldnât-
think-
âShit! Sheâs been-â
â-not the neck. Trace the ciphers onto her skin and once the barrier weakens-â
â-until then, let it from her arms. Even the legs will work. Anything away from the shoulders.â
âN-No-â Summer croaked out, as she felt her arms being pulled, as she swayed with numb legs towards the captor, helpless, â-s-stop-!â
Her mind couldnât keep up with the pain, the feeling of a blade along her arm, the warmth that ran down.into a waiting, salacious tongue. She shivered against the chest of the other one behind her, clawed fingers pinning her waist, a nose cold in her hair.
âSuch a sweet fragrance. A pity weâll have to wait to strike this throat. Roses tinge her life force like a pulse-wound so tightly with this blight of a ward.â A dry, heartless cackle rang in Summerâs ears. âConsorting with our kind already, are you? At least youâll know what to expect, sweet thing.â A hand threaded through her hair. A quaking whimper left her lips as she flinched away. She couldnât get her legs to move as fingers traced what felt like wet chalk or paint in patterns along the skin, draining her of her will. Seductive heat painted every word poured into her ears, and she could sense that she was being magicked, bespelled, but she was powerless.
âDonât be afraid. We donât dare to touch you until youâre cleansed of this influence-and by then, youâll be long ready to beg.â
---
Nearly a week of this. Delirium plagued her every waking moment as Summer fought to resist sleep. She needed to resist, needed to-
-rest-
No, no-
â...no...no...â She mumbled to herself, curled into a ball. If she slept, she wouldnât be able to stop the spread of influence from rooting deeper, overwriting her will.
If she slept-
Her eyelids felt heavy. Her body felt weightless.
If she slept-
Summerâs eyes finally closed behind the blindfold, acquiescing to a half-sleep, one where only flickers of nightmare filtered in like shadows.
In those nightmares, she saw them, touching her relaxed, breaking body, the waking memories that she didnât have the capacity to store as they bled her out for nourishment.
A corpse in every way besides the breath she struggled to draw.
Since the attack on Vale, there was no shortage of work to be done when it came to rebuilding. Several residential districts had come to ruin, the shelters were filling quickly, and transport out of the area was slow and complicated. Several trains and shuttles had been indefinitely shut down, and it hurt Summer to know that the suffering, for many of them, was only just beginning.
âI canât look on and do nothing for them,â Sheâd confessed to Winter one night, as sheâd woken restlessly beside her, paced the apartment a few times, downed a few cups of coffee, âI want to help them connect with their families, at the very least...â
Even if it was not as efficient or far-reaching in scope as the work Winter was able to do through her company, if she could help one more person, it was worth it.
She spent several evenings a week using her semblance to spirit the lost to their distant relatives without cost, and on most other nights, she trained her spirit to endure the strain.
Deep down, she knew there were other reasons she was driving herself into the ground.
Am I using this crisis to avoid my own? Summer felt her heart ache with guilt at the idea. It was a silent, unsaid thing, not unlike...
...not unlike how her and Winter seemed to avoid sleeping in the bed.
It was too frequent to be an accident, and while Winter had recovered peacefully there, the haunt of what had happened there seemed to linger in ways that made the moments where the lights dimmed seem all too suffocating.
All too often, theyâd settle in to bed, and a certain tension would reach out-
-and one, or both of them would remember a movie they had been meaning to watch, and the other would acquiesce easily, and theyâd fall asleep in some awful contortion on the couch together.
That place, that energy that seemed to linger...
...it was something that followed them both with its noose of guilt.
Summer knew that Winter hadnât been in control-she knew that wasnât her. That night...so much had happened, and sheâd been away for so long, and she was used to-to making amends where she believed they needed to be made.
It was a response cultivated out of acquiescing to the very woman whoâd imposed herself upon her, time and again, for the sake of the safety of those closest to her, and she only realized in retrospect that sheâd been drawn into that familiar pattern once again as she stole Winterâs face and body-forced her into horrors untold, for so long, without Summer knowing.
So she had seized upon the opportunity to busy herself, to try to keep from thinking about it-
-and on some level, she knew that Winter was trying to do the same.
After a particularly long night, Summer came home to Winter, so up to her ears in remedial reports that sheâd fallen asleep at her desk.
With a heartening smile, she slipped off her boots and cloak, padding softly across the floor towards her, easing a hand at either collapsed shoulder to massage her awake gently.
âHey, love...â Summer stroked the back of a finger against Winterâs cool cheek, stroking baby hairs behind her ears, â...have you been here long? Working so hard...â She leaned over, pressing the most tender, gentle kiss to her brow, â...can we sit and talk? I just-want to hear about your day...â
She wanted to have courage, and bring it up, for both of their sakes: but what if Winter hadnât said anything because she was not yet ready?
For Summer...the nightmare had begun in the bedroom, and passed over by the time theyâd faced Cinder.
How long, for Winter?
Sheâd said nothing of the many emails, dating back months, that had wound up in Winterâs business mail sheâd been managing. From...other women, following up on invitations. With picture attachments.
That...dated it all, somewhat, to at least a month and a half, and it turned her stomach to know that sheâd been unaware, even if the mission were noble.
But...she would play it by ear, and would wait.
Another lifetime, if need be.
She still worried that the Maiden warmth in her fingers would remind her of something else.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
prayers of coppĂŠlia //bloodborne au @snowstormsnowqueen
A place of suffering. The air in the hall brimmed with moans and half-formed utterances of loss, of fear, of calling out for one woman.
The doll without namesake had sought sanctuary from the haunt of the streets only to have been drawn to a mournful dirge of the infirm, their voices the instrument of lamentation most dire.
Not once did her hands fall from her breast, where she clutched her treasure as carefully as her artifice allowed.
Often, when she made these journeys, she took to any of a few usual paths. All of them were slow, and for a patience that few could bear. Often, she came to harm-and this time, she might not have minded so dearly, were it not for her fragile ward. Unlike herself, it could not be so easily replaced.
So it was that she had ventured farther into the cityâs jaws, in the gamble of finding a more direct means of reaching her goal, and so it was that she was almost taken.
She took stock of herself, here, in this doorway: the ribbon securing her bonnet had loosened, but it wasnât worth relinquishing her hands for. The fabric of it and the silken long red hair that flowed out beneath and down her back, the front of her shoulders, was molded to her body and her shawl by rain regardless, and her clogs were functional enough.
Onward, then.
...She could not understand this place. Only that she wanted to leave it.
She hastened her steps, but then found herself ailed by the opposite desire.
The treasure she held was all that encouraged her forward. The Lumenflower Gardens beyond the creaking buildingâs menace were kinder to her. She found herself wondering briefly why she lingered, always, in this place.
Because she would save her, if she came to danger?
Or because she would not?
What curious sensations.
The Astral Clocktower was void of all presence but that which sheâd sought, and all sound but that of ever-so-shallow breath, then her own footfalls on the wooden landings.
The nameless doll looked upon her lady with an immovable expression, her dull eyes slowly taking in each feature before she seated herself on the floor, leaning her head back against an armrest, hands still clasped over her chest.
Perhaps she would rest her eyes, but a moment, as she waited. Her patience was well-cultivated.
In slumber, her chin drooped towards one shoulder, and her voice moved unbidden in a lulling hum.
Breakfast made? Check. Coffee pot full and piping hot? Check. Time to wake this sleeping prince the only way she knows how; summoning a Beowolf right on his bed to just Scream at him. Hey, Schnee wake-up tactics; nothing like them to keep you on your toes.
It was a peaceful Sunday at Beacon Academy. Students lazed about in the courtyards, enjoying their time off beneath a cloudless sky and basking in the warmth of the sun. It was perfect weather for a nice picnic and a nap under the sky.
"Yeah it started because K-pop concert security is tougher than it looks but I just got hooked on the feeling of crushing someones face in with a solid right cross."
My god... Did you break into a K-pop concert? You. Broke into a K-pop concert.
