chasing shadows in the gallows

Set shortly after this thread. Daighre thinks he is being followed.

---

The sun had started to set.

And the oppressive heat remained.

Shimmering, and glimmering.

Heavy.

But mostly?

Mostly, it was dry, and stiff.

And yet, he walked.

Slow, steady.

Sand kicked up in his wake.

Walking, his posture low. Head carried low between his shoulders and in line with his spine. Shoulders loose, rolling.

Until—

He heard something.

And froze.

His hackles raised and bristling.

“I told you,” he started, quiet but loud enough to be heard, not yet turning around, “to leave.” Lips twitching. Body tense. Teeth wanting to be revealed.

To kill herself.

To die.

To leave him alone.

They were all the same thing, weren’t they?

the staff team luvs u

 The sun was setting. Thus, it was her time to shine.

 The white flower of the desert left the confines of the Eye and slipped out into the fading heat. The sun was low in the horizon, low enough not to be a bother as it rapidly began its descent into the sands. To be swallowed and to allow the moon its time to shine.

 There was one thing about the desert. It was open and empty, allowing for one to see far and wide. It was how she saw the shape in the distance, ahead of her. Sinner? Or someone else? Perhaps entertainment, perhaps both.

 The heavy-footed albino began to speed up, her heavy coat blew in the scant wind. Her paws would stop when she heard the voice of the man on the man calling out to her. She stopped when he did, her head lifted, there was almost a challenge in her gaze. "No. I don't think you've told me that..." The yearling said, voice even. "I don't think we've met." His blonde coat was pale but not in that blessed way. It was pleasant but not beautiful. Time would tell if he would be worth her time.

the staff team luvs u

 entropic happenstance would bring them together again, the sinner and her messianic mirage. salome knew then that any separation that would come was only temporary; their souls were eternally bound by knots woven consensually in the aether to be undone here, in this place, together. their love was meant to be! and this necessary distance kept between them was only one of many lessons that they were meant to learn. 

 they would be their own undoing. it didn't matter if he remembered their agreement; eglė remembered well enough for them both. 

  ​​​​​​i told you to leave. 

 the pythoness took pause. stilted breaths fell like heavy stones onto the southward wind as red sand loosened and stained the frosted tips of her thin down. 

 unbeknownst to herself, she slithered closer to her beloved and might have been so close as to touch, were she not distracted by another voice. one which she recognized, one which she knew belonged the drawn androgyne. attentive moon-eyes flashed upward above a mouth partially agape as she noted the subtle challenge, if made only by gaze.

 silence became the sandlark as she waited for the scales to tip.

the staff team luvs u

Someone spoke.

And what he saw, when turning around, was the white of her ugly fucking—deformed—mug. Seriously, did she break her fucking face? Shit was fucked up. All twisted, and protruding—

Bulging.

All immediately forgotten, when he saw her.

The grey bitch, from before.

Small, and creeping.

Pitiful.

Worthless.

He snarled.

Stepped forward.

His posture low, and stalking.

Coiled.

Poised.

“Not you.” He spat.

The white freak ignored.

“Her.”

Creep.

the staff team luvs u

 He turned to look at her proper and she could see the disdain there. Hmph, he likely didn't recognize royalty when he saw. Most Sinners didn't. No matter. He said nothing at first, didn't attack or take offense. His eyes instead slid past her to someone else and she too would look to see the slinking gray woman. Recognition flashed briefly in her eyes. They'd met before but she was blanking on a name, not like it mattered very much, anyway.

 He coiled himself, like a spring. Ready to attack... but not her. Exalted would step to the side, sidestepping this encounter. Why get her pretty face scarred for matters that were not her own? "I see." It wasn't as if the gray woman was divine. No. She was just some ugly gray. Deformed. Not beautiful like she or Andraste were.

 However, she would not leave. A show was still a show, after all. Violence was a beautiful dance and if either of them fell, she would feast.

the staff team luvs u

 the pythoness resembled an infant passerine fallen from its nest, an infirm broodling dressed in down stained copper by the desert sand. the vestigial hairs which had failed to mature became translucent from constant sunlight and wore around her as an almost perceptible halo of virtue. were not for her physical deformities, salome might have been beautiful, might have been something more than an apostate damned to this barren land. like her aureate dawnborn savior, she was a culmination of untapped potential.  

 so enraptured by his sudden attentiveness was the sandlark that she missed the tipping of scales entirely; the vestal virgin became an afterthought, removed from sight, allowing her the space to bathe in his presence alone — an act of fidelity, as it were, for she craved his touch and only his touch; the sting of his teeth embedding scarpaths onto her skin, flaying her open to touch every hidden corner of her corpse; his nostrils inhaling and exhaling over her lifeless corpse-

 if he wanted her to leave, then he would have to kill her, and it would have to be before she killed him.

 and so, salome remained still, prepared for what was to follow.

the staff team luvs u

In her face and posed to attack and still she did nothing but fucking simper. Silent and staring. Always silent and staring. Like she thought he was a fucking joke. That his fucking threats meant nothing.

And—

“Fuck this.” He snapped.

Fuck the big white bitch, and her fucked up face.

Fuck the passive fucking snake that wouldn’t leave him alone.

Fuck all of them.

Turning and leaving, with the little freak no doubt still in fucking tow.

---

Exit unless stopped.

the staff team luvs u

 What a strange little game this was. She stepped back to allow them room to brawl and yet it did not happen. She had awaited with baited breath to see some theatrics. What a pity that the man only threw a tantrum and stepped away. Hmph. How droll. She would watch him as he retreated across the sands. Then, she would look back at the woman as if to say "now what?" Would she chase after him like a deformed shadow? Or would she stay to converse. She wasn't sure what use the woman might be to Sanatorium, especially if she was so misshapen and bound to the other's --unwilling-- hip like a tick.

the staff team luvs u

 an inquisitive glance hardly gone unnoticed was choicely ignored ; 
 

he's leaving me

 she might have whimpered as one eyelid followed its other in creasing over her downcast gaze. his lack of sympathy for her anguished yearning stirred resentment (how can he leave so easily?) short-lived, turned quickly to despair as she once more was made a widower left to mourn what hadn't been.

 the pythoness scowled to her vestal virgin as she slipped back against the sparse desert foliage to follow faithfully after her beloved.

the staff team luvs u