aprettygirl | EVE'S HEART

Entry tags:

heart,
ic

EVE'S HEART

A dark veil slips over you, obscuring your vision; it’s cool and clinging, and blocks out all outside sensation. You drift downward . . . as you do, you grow more and more aware of the pulse of your own heartbeat, until it’s a ringing, unpleasant throb in your ears.

. . . after some time, it’s interrupted by a soft splash, and you feel solid rock underfoot.

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[flexes his claws so harshly on the rock that they splinter.]

...

Do what you will.

She reaches down, and looses his collar in a stroke.

[stays still for a moment, still in cat-shape, staring down at the water. the collar fades in Eve's hand and is gone.]

[...then he shivers, and the cat-shape seems to glow, the light concentrated on it brighter than around him— growing brighter still—]

[then it disappears entirely, and there's only the echo of a mocking, crackling laugh in its place. Mogget's not readily visible for the moment.]

Pragmatism frowns a little, looking around the cave.

[the water is still glinting with a million rainbow reflections.

in some places — quite a few, actually — it may be starting to steam.]

She sits on the rock and folds her arms.

...Pragmatism is not really exciting quarry, okay.

[that's okay. lines of white fire lash together underneath the water, setting it to boiling in earnest. one of them snakes out lightning-quick and grabs her by the ankle, dragging her towards the mess.]

She hisses and digs her heels in -- the floor of the pool, for her, seems to act like an actual floor.

The lattice of flesh on the ship is visibly writhing.

[yanks harder, searing her ankle; it's stronger than the pull of a man, horribly unnatural]

Eve's also stronger, but she's being dragged inch by inch, baring her teeth . . . she spares a hand to slash at that tether with a previously concealed knife.*

[it slashes through flame...

grabs her wrist too and shoves at her, trying to unbalance her before pulling again.]

She throws her weight the other way, keeping her balance; still struggling.

"Don't think--I'll make this easy--*

[the hissing of the voice is more steam than cat, now, and pure malice]

You think to patronize me? That you would not be made to regret letting me go? Even Abhorsen never had the nerve for that.

Chain me to that excuse for a team, ply me when I hardly have the memory to refuse if I wanted to—

[lashes for her eyes, aiming to distract more than damage but... not avoiding damage.]

"I'll have the nerve for whatever I--"

She hurls herself backwards away from it, though it sears across her face -- and loses her balance.

[there's a whiplike snap of the flame on her wrist and ankle, pulling her into the boiling water if it can.]

Your pride is nothing more than bravado, frightened little girl.

[lashing more flame around her as the lines of fire under the water run together, coalescing into a squat blurred column of whirling light that boils the water around it fiercely and holds her close; this is probably not going well.]

She's turning her face away from him, biting her lip bloody as the light sears through her flesh, corrosive. She doesn't really have the breath to reply, striking at him again and again and again with knives that come from nowhere: flat silver knives and knives that are blood-slick and twisted in shape.

The rest of the water in the cave is boiling now, black threading through it from the cave walls and the ship; the agitated rainbows on the walls are changing colour.

A reckoning for this heart was never delayed forever. I'll think of enough ways to kill even you before I quit this place.

[trying to cut the struggle short by wrapping a lash of flame around her throat and holding her up, just far enough that her toes miss the floor of the cavern under the water.]

She's hauled up, strangling and clawing at the fire, kicking at the column . . .

A wave of bloody-black water crashes across the cavern.

[the fire on her throat contracts hard, crushing; tosses her aside into the boiling water like a broken doll as he turns to face the new threat, something like a head visible on the column by now. stretching up thinner and taller, starved-looking and curving forward hungrily.]

(The flesh coating the ship is gone, and the vines are shredded--)

Something as formlessly flexible as Mogget curls upwards, into the air and the light: a column of many intertwined strands of red-black blood and silver water and bits of offal, tiny red eyes and sharp-toothed mouths like a leech's opening and closing, devouring themselves and respawning. Its voice is flat, inhumanly deliberate, and hungry.

Crusnik 03: area override authorized and acknowledged.

[laughs and flings himself forward at it, bright and gleaming.]

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