Interesting format, and it works well, although I had to go back and start again once I realised which voice was whose. The writing is lovely, full of vivid imagery - I especially like "in un-eager tumbling disgusting like a battlefield in the aftermath" (and then the interruption!), and "Painting one's heart with black paint that kills the light". Gorgeous!
Oh, this is so beautiful. The things you do with words ought to be illegal!
I agree with Spess, I love the shifting of the balance. I love Reg's disillusionment with everything Salazar stands for, and Salazar's infinite vanity. *dies of pretty words*
Then it was a smug thing, self-satisfied, cream that must be lapped again and again for the briefest taste of that first ecstasy, as addictive as it was futile. Then it was habit, meaningless save for the few cold and cruel remnants of an old world which I kept crushed in my fist.
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How long has my heart been nothing but the rotten fruit cocoon of the black walnut? A slippery and meaningless thing, tripping the feet.
The whole thing has a delicious lilting rhythm to it.
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I agree with Spess, I love the shifting of the balance. I love Reg's disillusionment with everything Salazar stands for, and Salazar's infinite vanity. *dies of pretty words*
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*hearts*
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Then it was a smug thing, self-satisfied, cream that must be lapped again and again for the briefest taste of that first ecstasy, as addictive as it was futile. Then it was habit, meaningless save for the few cold and cruel remnants of an old world which I kept crushed in my fist.
This is the best part.
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