Ugh, leave it to a drakao to be bored. Where is your creativity? Did you lose it? I'm having a fine time, but I had to deal with Werewolf, which was...[deeeeeep sigh.] well, it was interesting!
You're being cute today. I don't trust it! But, as you wish! The world through my eyes, enjoy.
[too enthusiastic for the memories she transfers to him, like a projector screen wherever he may be lounging or walking. the images sometimes speed up or slow, as memory often does, and she controls when they skid to a halt. a 360 view is given to the first kills and the cages, fast-forwarding to the shepherd. the illusion she gives of him is of absolute abhorrence, and parts of him are misshapen to mock his memory (rip shepherd). the trials, her own included, with much focus being on the yellowjackets and especially misty, who for some reason has an apple on her head throughout (this is a joke).
sometimes people talk and no sound leaves their lips, and other times the commune has a very suffocating feel to it, an ominous feeling at the edges of her memory, like there's a moment where she doubts the survival of several people, including herself. how it's given to da-lua is carnival-esque as time lapses, with an eerie impending doom over the crowds for each trial, their tiredness and fear showing on their faces in the shape of reddened eyes and dark circles and thinning bodies.
one particular moment is yeko sprawled over hap's roof, giggling and texting the frustrated doctor. dinner soup mush hunting dinner. hands clapping, people she overhears in their cabins, whispering or crying or both. embry and adrian's faces. the headless victims. the burning, terrible effigy of bodies. jinx's screams. ani's animal-deep cry as she kills the shepherd.
true terror in the last week of october.
yeko is silent on the line. remembering seems to have stirred a sadness inside of her.]
Like a play, and every detail is carefully crafted by the nove-caudas to bring him in and let him live in its memory, the game unravels and faces he's never seen before become more familiar, jokes and all, stored away for Da-Lua to find and see if they're anything worth paying attention to when their lives aren't on the line. Hard to come by people on survival mode when you're a pet surrounded by luxury, but if anyone would crave it more than others, it's the dragon himself. In other words: I wish it were me.
Da-Lua takes a deep breath when it's over, eyes closed in, eyes open out. Yeko's answer is not reflected in the dragon, burning too hot for empathy or remorse. He's been a caged bird wanting freedom so it can hunt. ]
I like the dark-haired girl. The one who killed this man.
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voice, un: drakao
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[ His bucket list: killing people. Then eating them. ]
I see that you're working for one of them now. Do you miss having a Dono this much?
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[a beat. stewing rage on her tongue:]
I got bored.
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But at least now you can be bored and serve them as well. Good job, little fox.
Oh — when was that fight again?
[ He slept through it. Then he forgor. ]
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Ah! Don't praise me, and definitely don't - [remind her. grumbling:] you're lazy and a coward.
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So show me. [ Not like they have anything better to do. (Jobs? Pfft.) ]
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You're being cute today. I don't trust it! But, as you wish! The world through my eyes, enjoy.
[too enthusiastic for the memories she transfers to him, like a projector screen wherever he may be lounging or walking. the images sometimes speed up or slow, as memory often does, and she controls when they skid to a halt. a 360 view is given to the first kills and the cages, fast-forwarding to the shepherd. the illusion she gives of him is of absolute abhorrence, and parts of him are misshapen to mock his memory (rip shepherd). the trials, her own included, with much focus being on the yellowjackets and especially misty, who for some reason has an apple on her head throughout (this is a joke).
sometimes people talk and no sound leaves their lips, and other times the commune has a very suffocating feel to it, an ominous feeling at the edges of her memory, like there's a moment where she doubts the survival of several people, including herself. how it's given to da-lua is carnival-esque as time lapses, with an eerie impending doom over the crowds for each trial, their tiredness and fear showing on their faces in the shape of reddened eyes and dark circles and thinning bodies.
one particular moment is yeko sprawled over hap's roof, giggling and texting the frustrated doctor. dinner soup mush hunting dinner. hands clapping, people she overhears in their cabins, whispering or crying or both. embry and adrian's faces. the headless victims. the burning, terrible effigy of bodies. jinx's screams. ani's animal-deep cry as she kills the shepherd.
true terror in the last week of october.
yeko is silent on the line. remembering seems to have stirred a sadness inside of her.]
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Like a play, and every detail is carefully crafted by the nove-caudas to bring him in and let him live in its memory, the game unravels and faces he's never seen before become more familiar, jokes and all, stored away for Da-Lua to find and see if they're anything worth paying attention to when their lives aren't on the line. Hard to come by people on survival mode when you're a pet surrounded by luxury, but if anyone would crave it more than others, it's the dragon himself. In other words: I wish it were me.
Da-Lua takes a deep breath when it's over, eyes closed in, eyes open out. Yeko's answer is not reflected in the dragon, burning too hot for empathy or remorse. He's been a caged bird wanting freedom so it can hunt. ]
I like the dark-haired girl. The one who killed this man.