S E R A P H I N A
in the absence of everything
ABSTAIN FROM FEAR--
in the absence of everything
ABSTAIN FROM FEAR--
His fury provokes no reaction from the silver mare, who watches him with cold, dead eyes as he bellows obscenities, insults her court, insults her lands, insults her; it is as though she doesn’t hear his words at all. (Perhaps they are insignificant because Rostislav is not particularly significant to her as anything more than a concept – she cares nothing for his thoughts or feelings at all. Perhaps it doesn’t matter to her if he is right about Solterra, her nation, right or wrong.) She doesn’t offer any sharp rejoinder or venom because there is no violence in Seraphina, no fire in her for the scars one might feel just beneath the surface of her coat or the chinks and scratches on the collar fixed like a noose around her throat; she lives, breathes, exists, but she does not fight. Seraphina is an entity that simply is.
She watches the ghostly warrior – Eik – offer his condolences to Rostislav. His tone is dull, but she senses from his words that he has been moved by the apparent injustice of the situation, like several others that she’d spoken with in the court. (Seraphina doesn’t understand it; the sympathy seems as foreign to her as Rostislav’s own motivations. Bonds of friendship and thought felt temporary, fleeting, ephemeral. Best to be on no one’s side but your own.) She watches him depart in stark silence, knowing that any attempts to offer a rejoinder to Rostislav’s outburst will be met with nothing but disappointment. She watches silent, predatory, waiting; the shadows flicker ominously across her silver features, absence of light drawing out the charcoal of her coat.
“I,” comes her soft voice, once Eik is long gone, “never said that you were a spy.” She allows her words to hang in the silence for what feels like a long moment, those glass-like eyes fixed on Rostislav – or the wall behind him, at the fragment of sunlight cast down from the window. It’s hard to tell. “I don’t believe you are a spy, even without your…explanation. Now, I do believe that Denocte may have a spy in the court, or they would not be aware of your presence…” She stalks by the bars of his cell, a cat about to pounce, “…but, clearly, that is not you. And, even if you were, you wouldn’t be worth provoking the Night Court. I am attempting to make a bid for your freedom.” The word freedom sounds out-of-place in her mouth; it dissolves on her tongue, loses all meaning. “Throw obscenities at me as you wish, but I’d suggest you learn to hold your tongue around the rest of the court – they are not all so measured, and a fight would be counterproductive to my efforts.” She is flat, greyscale – and she waits, still. Then :
"Tell me of the events leading up to your departure. Tell me what made you leave."
@Rostislav - <3
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
