Dying is easy. It is the act of drowning that is hard. Ever since that day, she dreams in blue. She doesn’t know if she is alive or dead - all she knows is that she is hungry. Maybe that is what it feels like to be trapped between two worlds. Is she coming or going? It has been a rush of delusions and fever dreams. She keeps thinking she is looking up at the stars, only to realize she has been staring down into the deep, wild, black-blue of the sea. What she sees there are jellyfish and other glowing things.
It is coming. She can feel it swimming in her blood. A shark circling in her consciousness. Some big feather black shadow that has as many eyes as it has teeth. It has barbed tendrils for hair and a cavernous mouth which leads to certain death. She thinks of this when she cannot think of anything else - she often dreams about it too. In the corners of her eyes, Fate drifts towards her with its electric yellow eyes. Even now she can hear the rushing water between her ears as the Leviathan creeps closer.
Thana, who smells like wet soil, dead cedar, and river water - all things that she once craved, now no longer inviting when Emersyn can still feel the sea churning in her waterlogged soul. Death loses its meaning to those that forego it (at least she is forced to believe this). She spends more time gazing deep into the void of Thana's eyes than she does to the first one to throw stones. I waited for you. I waited for you at the bottom of the sea and you never came! she wants to confess to Thana, but never does. Death did not want her - something else did.
If Emersyn were anticipating the regent to corner her in her home, she does not look it. The utter lack of disbelief that this is happening to her, is particularly notable in how unresponsive she appears to be. Perhaps diseased and rabid is a better way to describe the state of her being. To remain somewhat alert is a greater task than to appear disappointed, angry, or even shameful. Magic sneaks in through all the cracks - and there are many - too eager to take back what was lost. Every fiber of the cottage vibrates the same way the blood in her veins does.
Ipomoea’s magic leaps! (so do the sand fleas that flick-a-flack) across the dirty floorboards, frantic to escape the beast they mistakenly hitched a ride on. Sunlight claws at the edges of a thick and tangible darkness inside of the wasted Emissary’s now-dilapidated home. What has become of it is a cesspool of death and derangement. Dozens of sets of eyes gaze back at the regime in the jars that contain them. Andras is utterly inflamed with lightning, static pops off the edges of his glasses. The change of energy in the room scares all of the crabs and other tidepool fauna out from her leafy gray hair. One crab slips off of her shoulder and tumbles down, down, down -- Emersyn stomps it out too quickly.
Traitor. He hurls it like a bolt of lightning at her - she wonders what it feels like to be hurt by his words. What does it feel like to be struck by lightning?
What the warden says is true, she knows it. But what can she do about that? What can she possibly do? She did what she wanted to do.
What happened to you?
She cannot answer King Ipomoea's question.
Emersyn never wanted to torment or traumatize the man. Yet now that she has done just that (the horrors are suffused in his red - red eyes) --and she feels no shame from having done so. Pride? Yes. There is no sadness or sorrow for betraying his trust - their trust - she will gloat later when she can remember how.
What happened to the girl who sought forgiveness?
“I lied.” It is as easy as that. For such a wide grin, she finds that her jaw is painfully tight and whatever manages to smile back at the king is so far beyond the woman who dared to kneel in Delumine’s temple and lie to him. All for the sake of her own agenda. She is remorseless. She gives him nothing. She has nothing. She is nothing.
It helps to act like a monster,
she often remarks to her reflection,
when you are as ugly as one.
There can be no greater truth than this.
What then,
she wonders,
What happens when I finally become one?
"You should do something soon if you plan to, I'm starting to get very hungry, again." It is not funny and she is not laughing. This time when she smiles, it bleeds grotesquely down her too-tight skin which almost appears to be splitting.
Ooc: @Ipomoea @Andras @Thana I'm sorry for this very very late rubbish! From this point forward, please feel free to inflict what you would like on this character - I just ask that she is not executed!
