Gossip was weird and wonderful and R'lyeh just, ate. it. up. But every once and a while she found something to make her pause. Something strange or weird that she needed longer to catalogue and digest. Time, however, would moved things along nicely.

But this. This. Scared her. Making her gut tie into knots around and through her scar, and making her think and think and think over what the Dread Lord-King-Rhodes had said. Fear, an always-clever-cleaving-companion, nestled under her breast and locking it's jaws with the yowling mouth on her throat.

When the Court's had you in their sights, their focus primed and piercing, nothing good would ever come of it, and that was only for the flighty courtiers.

No King or Queen or Lord or Lady had every paid her mind. Or, no. They had, but in that lips curled and disgust shining through kinda way.

getawagetawygetaway
f r o m m e
idon'twanttoseeyouidon'twanttoseeyouidon'twanttose eyou

This was.

Different.

And that was.

Teeth gnawing, ripping, tearing. She could feel the blood-oil-sweat running down her throat. Into her throat, she can imagine-feel-remember, a lolling tongue licking her chops, feeling blood and bone and marrow-secrets, crush and crunch and gush down her throat.


it's never happened before
she didn't know what to do