Control
Ella awakes from the glade, charcoal black eyes flying open, expression set in a mask of calm. Her movements are slow, careful, precise. She stands from the chair she was in, lifting the kitten Chandra from her lap, ignoring the soft mew of protest. She walks quietly through the apartment, blackish red hair swinging against her body as she moves. She passes through the room without touching anything, without looking at anything, moving like a white ghost, lips and hair like blood. She walks into the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. It is a study in contrasts, small, delicate features frozen into a cold, blank calm, black eyes staring out from her bone white face, full lips like a bloody wound, dark red and lush. She stares at her reflection calmly for a good fifteen minutes, this is how long she lasts before her control breaks, hearing the quiet judgement of Drew's voice in her head even as her neutral facade disappears.
Her small fist slams into the mirror, cracking it and driving shards of glass into her hand. Her face shifts into the portrait of impotent rage and fury. She pulls her wounded hand back, panting angrily, looking down at the blood and mirrored glass on her hand. Her eyes flash, filling with an eerie black light.
"Eshu Concubines... HOW DARE HE? I swear to all the gods that I will be sained, and I if I am not of higher rank than that bigotted fool I will achieve it and spit in his smug, vicious face."
She shakes her head angrilly, leaning forward, pressing her head to an unshattered square of glass in the mirror.
"He speaks of nobility, and is not fit to shine her boots. He knows NOTHING of me, how dare he presume to judge with his sneering jokes and his tittering jackass of a companion."
Ella comes back to herself, realizing she's bleeding and talking to herself. Shaking with anger, she runs her hand beneath the tap, wincing at the rush of cold water over the wound. She wraps her hand in a bandage and goes to the bed, lying ontop of the sheets and pulling Robyn's pillow to her, trying to catch her scent on the sheets.
Her small fist slams into the mirror, cracking it and driving shards of glass into her hand. Her face shifts into the portrait of impotent rage and fury. She pulls her wounded hand back, panting angrily, looking down at the blood and mirrored glass on her hand. Her eyes flash, filling with an eerie black light.
"Eshu Concubines... HOW DARE HE? I swear to all the gods that I will be sained, and I if I am not of higher rank than that bigotted fool I will achieve it and spit in his smug, vicious face."
She shakes her head angrilly, leaning forward, pressing her head to an unshattered square of glass in the mirror.
"He speaks of nobility, and is not fit to shine her boots. He knows NOTHING of me, how dare he presume to judge with his sneering jokes and his tittering jackass of a companion."
Ella comes back to herself, realizing she's bleeding and talking to herself. Shaking with anger, she runs her hand beneath the tap, wincing at the rush of cold water over the wound. She wraps her hand in a bandage and goes to the bed, lying ontop of the sheets and pulling Robyn's pillow to her, trying to catch her scent on the sheets.