and then i realize what actually matters.
Characters: Vriska Serket and Tavros Nitram
Setting: The Veil
Content: In an offshoot timeline, she fails to kill Tavros.
Format: Prose
Warnings: Angst I guess
--
Murder was an art she had been practicing since childhood; at first it was out of necessity, but given how easy it was to dispose of people she loathed with a flick of a wrist, she also began to murder when she felt like it. She was a blueblood; she had every right to get rid of the lowbloods, and the impudent Tavros Nitram was already overdue for the afterlife. She had killed hundreds, maybe thousands -- she had dragged and witnessed and killed so many people that the body count didn't matter anymore, and it shouldn't anymore. Killing was easy. Killing was convenient.
So, when she was standing there with his lance in her right hand and Tavros' shoulder on the left, she wondered why her hand was shaking... it was hesitant, afraid even. It was so stupid, so retarded, so dumbity dumby dumb. There were so many perfectly good reasons to kill him, and it would be easy because he was so weak and she was so adept in that art already.
She loved him. No, she hated him. Actually, her feelings for him were hard to define already, but she cared about him. She cared, maybe too much, because before she even realized it, she threw his lance off the cliff (as opposed to just using it to stab him like what was originally planned) and shoved him away, taking in a sharp inhale as she did it.
STUPID, STUPID, DUMB.
WEAK.
Setting: The Veil
Content: In an offshoot timeline, she fails to kill Tavros.
Format: Prose
Warnings: Angst I guess
--
Murder was an art she had been practicing since childhood; at first it was out of necessity, but given how easy it was to dispose of people she loathed with a flick of a wrist, she also began to murder when she felt like it. She was a blueblood; she had every right to get rid of the lowbloods, and the impudent Tavros Nitram was already overdue for the afterlife. She had killed hundreds, maybe thousands -- she had dragged and witnessed and killed so many people that the body count didn't matter anymore, and it shouldn't anymore. Killing was easy. Killing was convenient.
So, when she was standing there with his lance in her right hand and Tavros' shoulder on the left, she wondered why her hand was shaking... it was hesitant, afraid even. It was so stupid, so retarded, so dumbity dumby dumb. There were so many perfectly good reasons to kill him, and it would be easy because he was so weak and she was so adept in that art already.
She loved him. No, she hated him. Actually, her feelings for him were hard to define already, but she cared about him. She cared, maybe too much, because before she even realized it, she threw his lance off the cliff (as opposed to just using it to stab him like what was originally planned) and shoved him away, taking in a sharp inhale as she did it.
STUPID, STUPID, DUMB.
WEAK.