( it's a snapshot of his skin. the starburst scar is a vivid, angry red against pale skin. healing, clearly, but the skin is agitated enough to suggest that anything covering it must be incredibly uncomfortable.
that isn't what's interesting, though. what's interesting is the skin that surrounds the scar. it's pale, yes. almost lifelessly so, but the black lace of his veins seem to almost be shying away from the healing wound, as if wary of it. )
I thought you might like to admire your handiwork.
( this is less about guilting her over the pain caused than in it is gauging her reaction. )
[ she opens it while she's at work. a bizarre sense of pride shoots through her, supercharged. she has to set the phone down to grapple with the unpleasant feeling. she mulls it over, hand over her mouth. she shouldn't be proud. it was disgusting, what she'd done. she'd completely lost control of herself. she'd disfigured him.
[ it's a threat, not a real offer, but it helps mask the spike of simultaneous pride and fear that she feels. how powerful must the sea whip have made her if she can drive back the merzost that's creeping through him? how inhuman must she be, now? ]
Oh, I'm not faulting your taking advantage. Merely pointing out that you might find a second attempt more challenging without the assistance. You know how sharp my bite can be. Though, perhaps I'm wrong in doubting you. You seem to be finally finding your claws, myshka.
Don't I? Have you never considered that it might be your due, the adoration? Given who you are.
( who not what, because as much as she likes to think he sees only her power it goes so much deeper than that. perhaps that's why he refuses to let go of her now. why, instead, he stubbornly digs in his fingers, like he would keep her with him by will alone. )
Eventually that fear will cease to serve you, and what then, I wonder.
No one is entitled to anything in this life, least of all worship. The very same people who worship me wouldn't have looked twice at a nothing orphan from Keramzin.
Did you know Duke Keramsov didn't even recognize me?
None of them will believe me due their worship if I fail to destroy you and the Fold. They only tolerate me in hopes that I'll free them. That has nothing to do with me.
Duke Keramsov is a senile old fool who was irrelevant even when he was hale and hearty. ( he should be kinder, he knows. a part of him still wants to do that, be kind for her, but they passed that point when she left him to die the first time. )
You are determined to reduce yourself to something palatable and yet surprised when others do the same to you. Honestly, Alina. If you are so determined to prove yourself my equal, stop shying from your claws and start using them.
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that isn't what's interesting, though. what's interesting is the skin that surrounds the scar. it's pale, yes. almost lifelessly so, but the black lace of his veins seem to almost be shying away from the healing wound, as if wary of it. )
I thought you might like to admire your handiwork.
( this is less about guilting her over the pain caused than in it is gauging her reaction. )
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she won't apologize, though. ]
I'm sure you've had worse.
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Don't try to blame me for those.
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You carry some of the blame.
( but, that aside: )
Look at the skin around the wound.
Notice anything interesting?
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If you have a point, make it.
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And evidently your light does a little more than drive back infection.
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[ it's a threat, not a real offer, but it helps mask the spike of simultaneous pride and fear that she feels. how powerful must the sea whip have made her if she can drive back the merzost that's creeping through him? how inhuman must she be, now? ]
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And I do have a job to do, after all.
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( you can practically hear the cut of his smirk. )
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You didn't think it made a difference at the car wash.
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You know how sharp my bite can be.
Though, perhaps I'm wrong in doubting you. You seem to be finally finding your claws, myshka.
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Have you never considered that it might be your due, the adoration? Given who you are.
( who not what, because as much as she likes to think he sees only her power it goes so much deeper than that. perhaps that's why he refuses to let go of her now. why, instead, he stubbornly digs in his fingers, like he would keep her with him by will alone. )
Eventually that fear will cease to serve you, and what then, I wonder.
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No one is entitled to anything in this life, least of all worship. The very same people who worship me wouldn't have looked twice at a nothing orphan from Keramzin.
Did you know Duke Keramsov didn't even recognize me?
None of them will believe me due their worship if I fail to destroy you and the Fold. They only tolerate me in hopes that I'll free them. That has nothing to do with me.
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You are determined to reduce yourself to something palatable and yet surprised when others do the same to you.
Honestly, Alina.
If you are so determined to prove yourself my equal, stop shying from your claws and start using them.
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I'm not your equal. I'm your better.
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They need you more than you need them. You realize this, surely?
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As long as they believe they can use my power for themselves.
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I want you.
There's a breadth of difference between the two.
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