☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
the moral of the story is // i will gut you if i need to // i will carve my way out //with only my teeth
The sun queen stands in a ray of dying light filtered through the remnants of shattered windows; she still hasn’t gotten around to replacing the beautiful scenes that had once adorned the sides of the throne room. This is mostly irrelevance – they are hardly the most important thing she has to rebuild – and partially procrastination. Without the sun god to think of, she does not know what scenes to adorn the walls with. (She glances back, momentarily, at the scorched throne, and her eyes rest on the hole that once held the sun medallion she had left at Veneror when she disavowed her gods. She does not speak to him, now, as she used to. A part of her feels emptier for the loss.) She takes a breath, steps back, and moves towards the center of the room, hooves clacking rhythmically against the sandstone floors. She used to pace when she was troubled. Now, it is largely a matter of anticipation – a step that she wonders if she is prepared to take.
She needs another limb; Eik is well-suited to diplomacy and travelling, and she couldn’t have asked for someone better to fulfill her former role, but someone must still fill what was once Avdotya’s place. Someone who is not Avdotya. She has danced around the subject, for some time – she tells herself that the behavior is warranted, given the actions of her previous reagent. Even if she was no choice of hers, putting her trust in the viper was a mistake she would not be quick to repeat, and a Regent that appropriately satisfied what she needed from the role was difficult. She needed fire and blood, and she needed venom. That was not hard to come by, in a land with as short of a temper in Solterra. Genuine loyalty to the court, on the other hand, seemed to be in far shorter supply…and resilience. She expected no trouble in finding resilience in a harsh desert kingdom, but it was not merely physical resilience that she desired.
She’d settled on a candidate, eventually. She’d settled on sharp-toothed smiles and batted lashes, on honey and venom all laced up in a pretty, pretty golden form; more than that, she’d settled in a great gnarl of a scar, a testament. Oh, she was nothing like the darkness of the viper – but she was just as venomous and just as deadly. Seraphina was sure of it. She’d seen her smile.
And now…now it was about time to see if she agreed to the proposition. Seraphina glances at one of the guards stationed at the doors expectantly and takes a deep breath.
“Bring me Bexley Briar,” She says, simply – and waits.
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tags | @Bexley
notes | fINNNNNALLY doing this. set before the SWP, even though it definitely won't be finished in time, RIP.
the moral of the story is // i will gut you if i need to // i will carve my way out //with only my teeth
The sun queen stands in a ray of dying light filtered through the remnants of shattered windows; she still hasn’t gotten around to replacing the beautiful scenes that had once adorned the sides of the throne room. This is mostly irrelevance – they are hardly the most important thing she has to rebuild – and partially procrastination. Without the sun god to think of, she does not know what scenes to adorn the walls with. (She glances back, momentarily, at the scorched throne, and her eyes rest on the hole that once held the sun medallion she had left at Veneror when she disavowed her gods. She does not speak to him, now, as she used to. A part of her feels emptier for the loss.) She takes a breath, steps back, and moves towards the center of the room, hooves clacking rhythmically against the sandstone floors. She used to pace when she was troubled. Now, it is largely a matter of anticipation – a step that she wonders if she is prepared to take.
She needs another limb; Eik is well-suited to diplomacy and travelling, and she couldn’t have asked for someone better to fulfill her former role, but someone must still fill what was once Avdotya’s place. Someone who is not Avdotya. She has danced around the subject, for some time – she tells herself that the behavior is warranted, given the actions of her previous reagent. Even if she was no choice of hers, putting her trust in the viper was a mistake she would not be quick to repeat, and a Regent that appropriately satisfied what she needed from the role was difficult. She needed fire and blood, and she needed venom. That was not hard to come by, in a land with as short of a temper in Solterra. Genuine loyalty to the court, on the other hand, seemed to be in far shorter supply…and resilience. She expected no trouble in finding resilience in a harsh desert kingdom, but it was not merely physical resilience that she desired.
She’d settled on a candidate, eventually. She’d settled on sharp-toothed smiles and batted lashes, on honey and venom all laced up in a pretty, pretty golden form; more than that, she’d settled in a great gnarl of a scar, a testament. Oh, she was nothing like the darkness of the viper – but she was just as venomous and just as deadly. Seraphina was sure of it. She’d seen her smile.
And now…now it was about time to see if she agreed to the proposition. Seraphina glances at one of the guards stationed at the doors expectantly and takes a deep breath.
“Bring me Bexley Briar,” She says, simply – and waits.
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tags | @
notes | fINNNNNALLY doing this. set before the SWP, even though it definitely won't be finished in time, RIP.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
