Sometime It Rains Blood x2
Oct 22, 2019 21:05:39 GMT -7
Post by 💀 on Oct 22, 2019 21:05:39 GMT -7
??/40
The answer was vague but with enough of an 'answer' to get the point across ad Hecate could only close her eyes and shake her head. "Shameful is what it is I suppose BUT the milk is already spilled." This living contradiction writhed and grew, light and organic blade. So natural. It lashed and with Loki behind it's chain she was more than sure it's leave more than a pinprick should that hit. It wasn't a problem.
So caught up in watch Loki the blade lopped a health score of flesh out of her arm and leg, her thigh before she made a short grunt of the noise in acknowledgement, the muscle already trying to reform, a very deep and gnawing gash that cut right to the bone easily. The rest she watched her wrist motions and danced lazily with it, a step and twist, a pivot and step. To move with the motion and be right upon where she needed to be.
The shadow of the blade walked across her ivory skin but standing this close to death was her occupation. She mirrored the rhythm, refused to be wrapped up in such a simple cadence and flow already after she'd so easily let herself be caught last time. "I wonder sometimes when I'm being tested and when the test is over." Till the world was quiet. The flicker of the chains she transverses like hopscotch; A ghost of a shadow rolling across the ground to mimic the movements of this creature. It was cut or burn or dissect but she reached out to touch it, to just run her fingers across the blades in passing like it were just a toy up in a display on a shelf.
All to work on getting in close. The style was very abrasive like that.
The answer was vague but with enough of an 'answer' to get the point across ad Hecate could only close her eyes and shake her head. "Shameful is what it is I suppose BUT the milk is already spilled." This living contradiction writhed and grew, light and organic blade. So natural. It lashed and with Loki behind it's chain she was more than sure it's leave more than a pinprick should that hit. It wasn't a problem.
So caught up in watch Loki the blade lopped a health score of flesh out of her arm and leg, her thigh before she made a short grunt of the noise in acknowledgement, the muscle already trying to reform, a very deep and gnawing gash that cut right to the bone easily. The rest she watched her wrist motions and danced lazily with it, a step and twist, a pivot and step. To move with the motion and be right upon where she needed to be.
The shadow of the blade walked across her ivory skin but standing this close to death was her occupation. She mirrored the rhythm, refused to be wrapped up in such a simple cadence and flow already after she'd so easily let herself be caught last time. "I wonder sometimes when I'm being tested and when the test is over." Till the world was quiet. The flicker of the chains she transverses like hopscotch; A ghost of a shadow rolling across the ground to mimic the movements of this creature. It was cut or burn or dissect but she reached out to touch it, to just run her fingers across the blades in passing like it were just a toy up in a display on a shelf.
All to work on getting in close. The style was very abrasive like that.