OP 2016/08/02 (Tue) 22:20 No. 190998 ▼
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- keep staring.
Sodden dress clinging to her slender legs, bare arms propping herself against the smooth submerged stones, she stares back.
Something splashes and clatters at your feet; insignificant, already forgotten. She shifts, sitting up straight - wet fabric sliding across the curves of her calves before rising like a veil, floating as her legs submerge. Water laps at her small waist, cross-laced corset ceding to the gentle swell of her bosom; soon concealed beneath wide white lapels pulled down demurely by taut leather laces. Verdant green locks, unbraided and unbound spill over the white cloth, and concealing her cleavage, over her heart, they meet behind a large velvet ribbon tied in a bow. Her eyes are magnetizing, pulling your gaze inevitably upwards even as you shiver and shy away for no reason you can name -
- and feel your thoughts scatter again as her expression hits you full-force; emerald eyes wounded and reproachful, guarded by a small mouth frowning with defensive disdain.
"Seen enough?" she says lowly, the quiver of her lip twisting something in your chest. You stumble back a step, a sense of transgression stealing over you for you've never ever known anything like this. Stepped from your rightful domain to desecrate hers, that hurt your own doing, but -
- this heat in your head and heart and skin. Not scalding fire stroked from a stalwart soul by a hammering heartbeat - but warmth from within, soaking through you like sunlight, hot enough to burn you away but gentle as caresses the entire while. Her wounded eyes deepen and you stumble, landing in the river reeds with a thump you barely feel. Damned and excommunicate you are, and to your demesnes you ought return but you can't, can't can't walk back into the dark where death is dealt and even the aces draw dead men's hands in their own time.
You haven't seen enough and though you hate yourself so much in this moment you could
And her eyes soften,, quizzical... concerned. Tucking her legs to one side, she shifts onto her knees, hands gathered in her lap gracefully. Her frilled hem sinks to the stones as trapped air seeps away, pulling her dress tighter over trim thighs. Arms straight, hands gathered gracefully in her lap, she studies you. A lace-trimmed ribbon wraps 'round and 'round one wrist like a cuff; so slender she is it sits loosely 'pon her forearm. It strikes you that her clothes exist to make decent her delicacy; shield her sweet grace from oafish eyes - and now soaked, she sits revealed, vulnerable.
"Are you okay?" she asks apprehensively.
You open your mouth and a dry tongue not your own croaks unintelligible reply, for you are not okay, not atall.
"What's your name?"
Names names names whirl through your head, a sea and a march and a man (to it but you remember from or did you mix the waters, sea and river, the two rivers where they meet is where you met no no no ?NO!."
She starts, ever so slightly. "You can't tell me?"
But oh how you want to, if only you knew! But only numbers damned numbers a serial number no several of those but which one and why? Five was the first one you recall, five comrades - or was it souls, five souls? Same, or separate you don't know you can't know and now she, she wants to and you want so badly what she wants but you just don't fucking know!
She blurs before you, shimmering and streaking and at last you huddle around your shame as the agony crashes over you like a cresting wave, crushing and rolling and pounding you too deep to remember the surface. For memory it is, your last reserves of strength and pretense of mission swept away and now there's only the costs of combat adding up fast, every joint aching as if ill-used, ankle screaming as if shattered and you huddling, shivering, shaking - spent.
[ ] It hurts. It hurts so damn much, it hurts-
[ ] I'm something horrible and horror is all I know, I'll hurt you, I'll hurt you so don't -!
[ ] ... I know my name. (Write-in only.)