[ 008 ] [ Audio | Commentlog ]
[When Vie speaks, her voice is quiet, words more to herself than anyone else. In the background a man's voice, or rather that of a pumpkin, pleads with her to kill him.]
You look the part, but you are not him.
[It's been a long time since Vie's let herself cry, and be damned if she does so now. To the pumpkin she continues:]
In asking for death, you dishonor him. I'll not have his blood on my hands a second time.
[That's right Vie. You tell that pumpkin. :|b
She stands, breathes a sigh and this time, directly addresses those in the Keep.]
How is it that they know who matters? Perhaps this is a punishment. The past dragged forward to remind us of what we've lost or where we've failed.
[A beat. Vie starts her way away from the pumpkin, choosing to turn away from the carved face of her fallen master rather than give in to it's plea.]
Stay out of my head, Deior.
[The book snaps shut, thus putting an end to her entry.]
You look the part, but you are not him.
[It's been a long time since Vie's let herself cry, and be damned if she does so now. To the pumpkin she continues:]
In asking for death, you dishonor him. I'll not have his blood on my hands a second time.
[That's right Vie. You tell that pumpkin. :|b
She stands, breathes a sigh and this time, directly addresses those in the Keep.]
How is it that they know who matters? Perhaps this is a punishment. The past dragged forward to remind us of what we've lost or where we've failed.
[A beat. Vie starts her way away from the pumpkin, choosing to turn away from the carved face of her fallen master rather than give in to it's plea.]
Stay out of my head, Deior.
[The book snaps shut, thus putting an end to her entry.]