poly_chromatic | 062 x 260 // voice;

Entry tags:

oc - carla morir

062 x 260 // voice;

[Her voice is deep, melodious. She doesn't sing, but she does chant the little spell with a lilting air.]

Ladybird Ladybird, fly away home. Your house is on fire, your children shall burn. Ladybird Ladybird, fly away home. Your house is on fire, your children shall burn. Ladybird Ladybird, fly away home. Your house is on fire, your children shall burn.

[And her tone changes with a snap, shouting:] Come look at me, you fucking bitch.

[Breath.]

I bet you're happy.

[Then quietly,] He was supposed to be the one to suffer.

[[ooc; Losing her shit after being cured of the plague, like I promised. Anyone who wants to just jump straight to action is welcome to. The folks she'd go to know who they are. For the rest, the doors are unlocked at the flat. Action threads come with a tw: self-harm.

This is also forward dated a few days, because I really don't tend to tag on weekends.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's quite the curse, don't you think?

Are you bleeding?

[He doesn't care. He's just curious.]

I didn't care if he thought I was pretty.

[She hadn't. She knew she was beautiful. Her entire family was, strong features framed in black; wicked smiles. Although the form their wickedness had taken had varied between them, some more benign than others. All self-obsessed.]

[As for her blood...]

You won't tell if I am.

[A question, though not phrased as one.]

Did you care what he thought at all?

I won't. Blood is blood. Sometimes it's needful.

[It was apparently needful to draw her back into herself or to draw her voice back.]

No. I just wanted him to think of me.

[Hate, disgust, lust. She didn't really care, and a majority of the time she still doesn't. Although now she's been infected with something worse than Reanimation: she wants someone to love her.]

[She tilts her head back, some of her read throat exposed. The marks go all the way down her chest, other tragedies spread further than that.]

I need it.

[To draw herself back from the tar she drowns in, the ugly depths of her thoughts and her loss.]

And did he? And was it enough?

[He smiles a little--faintly, gently, almost benign.]

So it is needful.

[He had. And that had satisfied her, insomuch as she could be satisfied. Then he had stolen her back from death and his attention hadn't been enough anymore. She wanted his love.]

It's never enough.

No. Of course it isn't.

I'm tired of starving.

[For life, for love, for food, for humanity. She's never satisfied, and she's never happy.]

And what would feed you?

I don't know. [And because this is private and because he brought her a crown of bones, she murmurs,] I want someone to love me.

When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies...

There are so many who say that, who think that. Perhaps they even believe it. But--

[He pauses, considering.]

--perhaps it would feed you. My poor starving liege lady.

I've gotten little tastes.

[She thinks so, anyway.]

And then they're gone.

Only enough to whet the appetite, huh?

The City sends them back. They forget me. When it sends me back, I'll forget myself.

And what of those who know you here whom you leave behind?

What about them.

[Bitterness. She can't get what she craves from them either. They would forget her, perhaps even be relieved to no longer hear her calling Ladybird Ladybird.]

Wouldn't they think on you? From time to time?

[Maybe. She feels contrite about the notion, but still,]

It isn't enough.

[Her mantra for the day.]

Of course it isn't!

[And he laughs.]

There was one, I might have... [Been satisfied with? She doesn't know how to be satisfied.] Been happy with.

He picked someone else.

[So while she was certain he would think on her... That was a sour consolation.]

Oh, now that is a pity and a shame. And this was someone in the City?

[Do go on. Gossip is lovely.]

He's here. He's always been here.

[Karl is the only one she's really spoken to about Chase openly, she's not so sure she wants to share all of it with Flagg.]

Has he?

You do want someone who's always there, but always here? A different situation entirely.

It has to be here. There's... nothing else.

Nothing? Really?

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