[Worship] godless

[Aislinn]

SWITCH THE LIGHT OFF, WELCOME THE NIGHT WHAT’S THE PROBLEM, NOT GONNA MAKE IT RIGHT BITE THE BULLET THEN PULL THE TRIGGER HOLD TIGHT IT’S A FEELING, YOU KNOW In the darkness, the only warmth of her is her eyes, as they burn wicked blue fires with insatiable rage. Her face violent twists, savoring the satisfying crack of her wing connecting with the silver’s cheek. The healed, delicate, avian bones reverberate at the impact, but they hold steady. There are no more daggers of white-hot flame, nor winces with each slight movement. She is power, she is fury, she is a storm begging to be unleashed. And if she could not release her wrath on her attacker, then.. then this woman — his queen — would have to be enough. For now. There is no reaction from the silver; only an emptiness, a lethal silence save for the residual crack of her wing connecting to smooth bone. Her ears do not catch a sound, her eyes do not catch a wince. Nothing. Nothing at all. The queen’s quiet, however brutally calm, is anything but. Aislinn’s rage ignites from the lack of something, anything, as she steps back to relieve herself of the woman’s stench of sun-soaked sand and ash. The woman’s eyes though.. her eyes say it all. And the stormsinger’s grin curves wildly, crudely in answer. Not unless you intend to explain yourself. In any other moment, Aislinn might have admired how the woman’s chin rose despite the swelling of her skin, despite that she stands in the midst of a stormsinger’s wavering self-control. She might have even commented on her strength, her resilience. Tonight, with her, however, would not fall under those circumstances. She was hungry; starving for blood that tasted of the sun’s reek. The object of her rage was gone, but his pretty little queen was here, trapped in the citadel with Calligo’s Champion. This was her game now, and oh.. The silver was going to lose. What occurred with my Warden? She had expected fire and flames, but instead, only ice dripped off of her tongue. "You don’t know." A statement, not a question. An cold, flat laugh looses from her throat. "You don’t have an idea. You’re Sovereign, are you not?" Her muscles tremble with the tempest that crashes in her blood and bones; the taste of electricity dancing across her skin. How could she not know? Did her Court run rampant whenever they pleased? Did Torstein — it’s not safe, it’s not safe, it’s not safe.. She snarls, more to herself, to silence the record player of her memory. The clouds have all but swallowed the stars as they shift, and Aislinn wraps herself within those shadows. Sighing, she calms the waters of her storm until she is no longer shaking. Her voice nearly croaks as she spits: "Retribution. Revenge. Vengeance. It is the same story only with different names." Her crown tilts, surveying the Sun Queen with a smirk plastered plainly across her face. Annoyed, and biting back every ounce of raw anger that surges just beneath her dark skin. "Which version would you like to hear?" RUNNING UNDER LIGHTS OFF IN THE SKY NOTHING MATTERS WHEN YOU’RE IN THE FIGHT HOLD YOUR FIRE MAYBE WE CAN MAKE IT ALL RIGHT @Seraphina <3 literally took me a MONTH to reply.. please forgive me ;___; "Aislinn speech."

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