riscilla hissed at her as their skin sizzled with their contact and there eyes were locked with the same amount of hatred burning within them. She did not mind the pain, a succubus like her practically feed off of it. This stupid little Goddess was such a fool, letting her own anger and need to hurt power Priscilla even more. She used her free hand to grab onto Yune’s arm and throw her from the throne, across the room. She landed on her feet, which wasn’t a surprise, but it was the principle of the thing. The throne was not and never will be for Yune. It was for her Apollyon.
“Is that truly all you can do? Insult me for being exactly who I am?” She spat as they stared at each other from across the room. Their bodies were tight, ready to fight, and yet, they spoke. Priscilla was, at least, somewhat smarter than your average demon. “You think I am insulted by sex. I love sex - I embrace its very nature. You pretend to be so high and mighty, but you’re not. You want him just as badly. That’s who he is. He will change you. He has changed you.”
With that, she leapt forward. She would rip her head off and present it on a platter to her lover.
Aurora let her hands run over the stiff pages of the book, let floral scents fill her nose and let the feeling and smell of home ease her into safety. She sat, wondering how many times her father sat in this spot and scribbled away or slaved away on something to save someone else. She closed her eyes, letting herself think of them both. Were they in love? She felt that it must be impossible to be in love with a God, to be touched by a God and not be completely absorbed by who they were. She felt that frequently when she was with Arneas. Perhaps this was why her father loathed Gods so. He wanted her to be herself, not someone else.
Her father wrote many things, books upon books and diaries, some in Godspeak and some not. She found the earliest ones, the ones where he was transitioning between the two languages. She was scribbling on her own sheet of paper, translating letters as she went, and was absorbed completely in all the knowledge that was here. She would never understand why he hid all of this away from her? She could not understand why he did not want her to carry on the legacy of healing.
When a sing-song voice broke the silence, she felt ice creep down her spine as she looked up to see an angel (of sorts) in the mirror. His eyes were not like Ariel’s, who at times seemed kind, but rather they were as dark as the night sky. His words echoed with something more malicious than what they really meant. His fingers were cold when he grabbed her chin, but he was strong and she could not break free from his grasp.
“Who are you?” She said, struggling to be free from his fingers. She felt her heart jump when the chair rocked back and he used his nails to keep her from falling. She felt the sting and felt tears jump instantly in her eyes. She did not want to cry in front of whoever or whatever this person is. He was different than Ariel, so entirely menacing and strong and she wondered how he found her. Did she suddenly scream for other beings to find her now that she knew who she was? She couldn't ignore how it felt to be alone with him and she was screaming desperately for help - Ariel and Arneas’ name over and over inside her.
@ ashen knight;
“Is that truly all you can do? Insult me for being exactly who I am?” She spat as they stared at each other from across the room. Their bodies were tight, ready to fight, and yet, they spoke. Priscilla was, at least, somewhat smarter than your average demon. “You think I am insulted by sex. I love sex - I embrace its very nature. You pretend to be so high and mighty, but you’re not. You want him just as badly. That’s who he is. He will change you. He has changed you.”
With that, she leapt forward. She would rip her head off and present it on a platter to her lover.
Aurora let her hands run over the stiff pages of the book, let floral scents fill her nose and let the feeling and smell of home ease her into safety. She sat, wondering how many times her father sat in this spot and scribbled away or slaved away on something to save someone else. She closed her eyes, letting herself think of them both. Were they in love? She felt that it must be impossible to be in love with a God, to be touched by a God and not be completely absorbed by who they were. She felt that frequently when she was with Arneas. Perhaps this was why her father loathed Gods so. He wanted her to be herself, not someone else.
Her father wrote many things, books upon books and diaries, some in Godspeak and some not. She found the earliest ones, the ones where he was transitioning between the two languages. She was scribbling on her own sheet of paper, translating letters as she went, and was absorbed completely in all the knowledge that was here. She would never understand why he hid all of this away from her? She could not understand why he did not want her to carry on the legacy of healing.
When a sing-song voice broke the silence, she felt ice creep down her spine as she looked up to see an angel (of sorts) in the mirror. His eyes were not like Ariel’s, who at times seemed kind, but rather they were as dark as the night sky. His words echoed with something more malicious than what they really meant. His fingers were cold when he grabbed her chin, but he was strong and she could not break free from his grasp.
“Who are you?” She said, struggling to be free from his fingers. She felt her heart jump when the chair rocked back and he used his nails to keep her from falling. She felt the sting and felt tears jump instantly in her eyes. She did not want to cry in front of whoever or whatever this person is. He was different than Ariel, so entirely menacing and strong and she wondered how he found her. Did she suddenly scream for other beings to find her now that she knew who she was? She couldn't ignore how it felt to be alone with him and she was screaming desperately for help - Ariel and Arneas’ name over and over inside her.
@ ashen knight;
September 25th, 2016 at 10:32pm