lipsoftheredrose:

|| s i n b o r n ||

              Running, running, running. But from what? Something terrible, something big and nasty and mean, and every step it took sounded like metal screeching against metal and it hurt her ears. She ducked under branches, dodged over fallen logs and tree stumps and little boulders, but it seemed she could never put enough distance between herself and the monster. And then she tripped, and she was tumbling down a long hillside, and at the top of the hill she could see the glint of metal armor in the moonlight, towering 20 feet tall. A menace in black glittering i r o n, watching her with cold, dead eyes. It lifted something from it’s back –a crossbow. Aimed it at her.

              She screamed before the bolt could be released, and continued screaming even as she was dragged from the world of her dreams and into her living, waking reality. Confusion and despair and the clinging, cloying sense of d e a t h hung around her and her scream only died out when her voice became raw. It dissolved into sobs as she clung to herself, shaken from head to toe thanks to the nightmare. She didn’t dare lift her eyes from the bedspread, for fear that it would be in the room with her if she looked.

      _{IT MUST’VE been past midnight, by how much she was not entirely sure. often, she lost herself in the evening black of the vinkus. her eyes would sting with the dryness of her willing them to focus on pages she had SCOURED hundreds of times over. the straw mattress tucked in the corner was hauntingly untouched. she had not slept in weeks. it became a mere routine, like any other. the reason for which, she would not admit to. it was the insatiable NIGHTMARES, the whirlpools that swallowed her whole, a pain so searing her breath was forced from her, her eyes melted, her skin shriveled. she awoke DRENCHED, most nights, in her own sweat, hair matted, bones stiff. she could not sleep anymore. she would work. only keep fighting while the land lay quiet. though she found, on occasion, the HALLUCINATIONS which danced before her eyes distracting, at some point they faded into the background and she was returned to her waking darkness.}

       _{THE SOUND  of the the cries echoed through the empty halls of kiamo ko, breifly returning her to the days of irji, manek, & nor. her mind lapsed, lips moving to holler their names before she can recall that it couldn’t be them ——————- that they had died at the hands of his ozness countless years before.} 

      _{HER SKIRTS  swirl about her angrily as she moves down the halls, through the glowing light of oil lamps, and up the stairs to the tower room which housed the roaming blonde ;; namely, aurora. her eyes fall on the shivering figure, curled together in the midst of a vinkun summer.} 

                                    ‘ WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? ‘

      _{SHE COULD not tell the girl that the cries had reawakened a primal care within her —- that she was ready to comfort, and all too late. but this was NOT her child, nor her friend. she was but a PRISONER of the never-ending war. if anything, she, herself, was the nightmare.}

brokensmolder:

❛   ——–  i figured you might have  missed  this face, after so long. depriving  you of it, just didn’t sit well with me, either.   ❜

                                                                         (         you missed him, admit it.         )

      _{HER TEETH  are grit, but she hides the MALICE well behind a crooked sort of smile. her gaze is locked on him from under the shadow of the worn hat’s brim, a mixture of her hatred & her desire brewing, quietly, quietly…}

                 _{‘ YOU ARE  so incapable of speaking your mind – and why, I have to wonder? were you hurt or were your born an ass? ‘}

liiirko:

                his expression crumpled, heart thudding in his chest. to think, a man he looked up to, a man like commander cherrystone – could do such a thing for simple cruelty. it was hard for his childly brain to comprehend, but if she said it so – it must be so. the witch was rarely wrong, though often extreme. he stands frozen for a moment or two, watching her after she finishes her momentary rant. his throat is still tight, the idea of his only family being dead – even if they didn’t treat him with as much kindness as the nuns. they were still something he could call his own, his family. he sniffled hard, rubbing his eyes before speaking. 
               “right. o-of course. sorry to bother you.”
               with that he had to turn swiftly, as once he faced away he felt tears roll down his cheeks. he had asked for an answer, and like she always did, elphaba told him the truth. no holds, no coddling. liir knew the truth hurt, but he didn’t like to think about it. walking away he forced himself to stay quiet, he refused to let her see him weaker than he already seemed in her eyes.

                  _{‘ THAT sniveling — stop with it, will you! ‘}

    _{IT IS  far harsher than she means, and yet, it’s necessary. the cries POUND against the frame of her fragile mind with relentlessness. it was not her duty to calm this child, nor ANY child. it was not hers. and that fact was what drove her to forget the cries, even if somewhere within her, her own CHILDLIKE heart bled in unison, because it felt the silent response to its aches. and perhaps her hands itched to comfort, and yet, had forgotten how. so they remained stiff. he, too, would learn the hardness of the world young.} 

   _{HER GLANCE  moved back to the space before her, eyes SQUINTED as far fro the boy as possible, guilt seeping through her ever-boiling veins. the poor, poor child who was left alone with the witch. could he not find sense to run while he had the chance.} 

                        _{‘ JUST  —————-  just, ‘ –  she did not finish the sentence.} 

erzherzogundkronprinz:

“Not what she has done,” counters Rudolf, resisting the urge to take a step back and instead straightening his shoulders as memories of the mantras he repeated as a child flash through his mind- be strong, betray no fear, let no one see you cringe. “My issues with her relate specifically to what she has not done- namely, mother.” 

He knows instinctively that this woman would be entirely capable of hurting him, should she have to; but he also questions whether her long-ago alliance (friendship?) with his mother would allow her to now. It’s not a chance he’s willing to bet on; he’s smart enough to know that old loyalties, especially tarnished ones, never go very far.

She’s staring at him. Staring very hard, very intensely, and it doesn’t seem as if she anticipates stopping any time soon. As much as he doesn’t like that, he forces himself to push his nerves aside and holds out his hand to her.  

                “Rudolf,                                                                                                                                                                 Archduke of Austria,                                                                                                                                              Crown Prince of Austria-Hungary.                                                                                                                                            Pleased to meet you, Miss...”

     _{SHE CONSIDERS  the repercussions of his learning her name, and perhaps even more, whether he NEED know. if it should matter, considering her appearance. her fingers curl by her sides, indicating her quiet refusal of his hand. it is, however, not so much in spite as it is simple HABIT.}

                                      _{‘ MY NAME  has all but died, master rudolf. nonetheless, if you please —- elphaba. ‘}

       _{THE TIRED  name tumbles from her lips with a distinct unfamiliarity, but the unsettling nature of it has faded. still, she feels need to PROD. while she cannot bring herself to defend the empress, it still seemed odd that she should not mother her child, of all the things they’d SPOKEN as children, how mistreated, how alone. if it was true, it was a crushing weight upon her.}  

                                     _{‘WHAT SPECIFICALLY,  master rudolf? ‘}

liiirko:

                   he’d been wandering head down, not noting the surroundings. it seemed his feet had taken him here without ever letting him know. her voice forced him to look up, tired eyes watching the figure.
                       “i-i’m sorry… i wasn’t watching w-where I was walking.. I gu–”
                       his words were cut off by her other sentence, a point that hit home quite rapidly. feeling his throat get tight, he simply opted for silence this time around. better to give her more air to speak then waste his own trying to converse. liir had little knowledge of what to say now? without anyone else in kiamo ko, he didn’t even have the kids to bully him now – which he’d take any day over their disappearance. there was silence, liir’s eyes diverting to the ground before he could muster the power to speak without shyness slipping through.
                       “…why would commander cherrystone do this?”
                       as soon as he spoke, he regretted the words. he was referencing the removal of his only source of real human contact – aside from this abnormal conversation he made with elphaba.

       _{WHY.  why would he. he, commander cherrystone. he, the wonderful wizard. he, reverend frexspar thropp.} 

                            _{‘ —————————————- THEN PERHAPS  you should work on watching such things. ‘}

       _{the question of ( why ) was not worth the toil. it could push one over the EDGE with confusion. perhaps, she thought, there was no WHY.}

       _{THIS, THOUGH,  it would always haunt her, both in sleep and waking. she was certain that, if not enslaved, the tigelaar women were now beneath the oil-stained soil of oz’s capitol, ( ruined ) by his ozness’s member itself. it was nowhere near below him. anything for POWER. how she had grown to hate the concept. ( power ). maybe she, herself, was not below its siren song. how she LONGED to push the thought from her mind, but it clung to her, constricting her chest with each recollection. how she, too, had wanted to exhibit her power, and for what?  her father to notice. for SOMEONE to be proud? how pathetic. and ( why )? she could not say. and it clawed at her words each & every time.}

       _{‘ WHY? because he can. people are inherently greedy ;; they are CRUEL, liir. you can either ( fight ) it or try to comprehend it, but you cannot do both. it will drive you mad. ‘}

    _{HER VOICE  came, finally, calmly & smoothly, if only for a moment. it was a piece of her seldom visible, but still there. buried, buried, buried…}

                                                  _{‘ NOW IF you please, I’m busy. I will find you come supper. ‘}

    _{SHE IS  still uncertain of her feeling for the child. true, that she LOATHES children, and that lugging him around has been nothing but a mere ( chore ) for the women of saint glinda’s cloister which had fostered her when her sins had overtaken her. still, though AGGRAVATING as children were, his eyes held an abandonment that she, too, housed.} 

                              _{‘ LIIR,  how OFTEN must I tell you not to enter unannounced. what is it now? ‘}

     _{THE TIGELAARS’  capture, it seemed to haunt him as it did her. not in the way of GUILT that she carried, but a weight the very same. while pieces of her, scattered about the crevices of her brain, wished to give him ( comfort ), she had none to spare. what made him more DESERVING than her? nothing. they were both alone now.} 

                                 _{‘ I CANNOT entertain you anymore. stop with the self-loathing, if you would. ‘}

     _{‘ WHAT MADE you come back now of all times? ‘}

                           _{STILL, she was unsure of her feeling, how she LOATHED him and yet how solemn the nights had been. but years wash away both pain & pleasure, they leave only intrigue and the occasional scar.}