Many were the times that she had to fake complications to get the attention of those she needed--illnesses, injuries, obstacles, drawing in the soft-hearted and concerned to get just close enough to dig her claws into them. She was the wolf in sheep's clothing, the hidden viper lurking in the grass, with just a hint of sunshine and soft smiles. Through the struggles of growing up in the brothel she had to learn how to serve herself, how to get under the skin of both innocent and guilty, how to survive--for any less than perfect and the woman wouldn't let her see her mother. And oh how that was all her little naive soul wanted, the comfort of a parent who hadn't abandoned her, one who doted on her in a way no one else had; but how feigned it had all been, how blind Manon was until she learned true adoration from the men and women in the dark Marketplace establishments; they wanted her, used her, and reveled every moment of it.
And how it turned her into a beast with a stone heart.
It was with characteristics like his that she almost felt a pang of remorse for tricking such kind natures and turning them rough, but she had a job to do and certainly he would refuse compliance should he know the truth of what she was searching for. So she played along in their faux-virtuousness, donning the personality of an equally innocent of mind. She was hopeful that he would not see past her act, though from what she had heard of him she thought it doubtful. If she played her hand right, it should go smoothly enough until she could stash him away.
Her cries worked, for the small frame of snowy white moved back to cover their separated distance, worry lining the features of his face like a string of lit christmas lights. If he showed any signs of apprehension she ignored them, playing the part of The Hurt Girl without breaking character. While he addressed her and looked her over for potential signs of the injury she claimed, she kept her visage consistent of being in pain. She realized that if he got a close enough of a look he could recognize that there was no injury at all--and so she feigned struggle to stand despite his pleas to keep still. Legs bent underneath her slim body, hidden away for the moment from his piercing eyes, she pretended to buckle one beneath her weight. "I think I can stand, maybe, if you help me." A slight desperation was woven into her claim, another request for him to get ever closer to her.
"Thank you for turning back to me, I didn't want to be out in the dark alone while hurt..." She grimaced, taking wobbling steps forward before releasing another quiet whimper. "I can't walk very far, I think it's definitely damaged. Your Atreus, he lives in this court? I... I know someone else, with magic, who can help me..." she trailed off, despair lacing her words in a pattern. She needed him to accept going somewhere else, away from the Court where she knew someone would go looking for him if he was to be found missing. She wondered if she could be convincing enough to drag him away to Night.
Crowned head swiveled back to face him, after dropping in seeming-contemplation. "This 'someone' I speak of is in the Night Court. There is a boat just beyond here, at the shore. Could we go? Will you take me?" Perhaps if she pleaded, if she made him feel guilty enough, he would comply and she would have found her way in.
And how it turned her into a beast with a stone heart.
It was with characteristics like his that she almost felt a pang of remorse for tricking such kind natures and turning them rough, but she had a job to do and certainly he would refuse compliance should he know the truth of what she was searching for. So she played along in their faux-virtuousness, donning the personality of an equally innocent of mind. She was hopeful that he would not see past her act, though from what she had heard of him she thought it doubtful. If she played her hand right, it should go smoothly enough until she could stash him away.
Her cries worked, for the small frame of snowy white moved back to cover their separated distance, worry lining the features of his face like a string of lit christmas lights. If he showed any signs of apprehension she ignored them, playing the part of The Hurt Girl without breaking character. While he addressed her and looked her over for potential signs of the injury she claimed, she kept her visage consistent of being in pain. She realized that if he got a close enough of a look he could recognize that there was no injury at all--and so she feigned struggle to stand despite his pleas to keep still. Legs bent underneath her slim body, hidden away for the moment from his piercing eyes, she pretended to buckle one beneath her weight. "I think I can stand, maybe, if you help me." A slight desperation was woven into her claim, another request for him to get ever closer to her.
"Thank you for turning back to me, I didn't want to be out in the dark alone while hurt..." She grimaced, taking wobbling steps forward before releasing another quiet whimper. "I can't walk very far, I think it's definitely damaged. Your Atreus, he lives in this court? I... I know someone else, with magic, who can help me..." she trailed off, despair lacing her words in a pattern. She needed him to accept going somewhere else, away from the Court where she knew someone would go looking for him if he was to be found missing. She wondered if she could be convincing enough to drag him away to Night.
Crowned head swiveled back to face him, after dropping in seeming-contemplation. "This 'someone' I speak of is in the Night Court. There is a boat just beyond here, at the shore. Could we go? Will you take me?" Perhaps if she pleaded, if she made him feel guilty enough, he would comply and she would have found her way in.
Build me up just to bring me down
'Cause you don't want me to take the crown
erd
TO LIVE MY LIFE THE WAY I WANT
TO SAY AND DO WHATEVER I PLEASE
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(Please tag me in every post)
(Please tag me in every post)
