it wasn't ideal, that much was certain. she thought hell would be eternal raging hellfire, shackle bound, the pain of a thousand sunrises blistering pristine immortal flesh— and yet .... she walked onward. shimmering ruby encrusted sheath wound with gold dragging behind her, kicking up a mixture of ash in her wake. carmilla was the queen of styria; not hell. this wasn't her domain and so the regal vampiress found herself somewhat lost. there was no comfort of moonlight here, and so days began to blend into a endless void. mouth dry, yearning for what she so craved desperately. a punishment she supposed. but the fury of her seething rage was stronger. numbed the ache of her hunger.
steps once so willful are slow... not to be mistaken, however .... just as grand. heels pushing into the cake of ash beneath her as silvery strands fall to rest against sculpted cheek. with a sigh of annoyance tall feminine frame takes a rest to lean against a crumbling pillar. every time carmilla thought she had some sense of geography in her newfound purgatory things shifted. like a endless puzzle, an everchanging map. lifting her blade she removes it from the sheath, glancing at herself in shimmering silver blade. her reflection betrays her as brow begins to wildly twitch in frustration. ' pathetic, ' she hisses in anger. crimson red nails tuck into powdery white palm, forming a fist and colliding with the pillar in anger. it crunches and trembles beneath the force of her blow and her howl of anger ripples through the spance of hell. like a wounded lioness she roars. heel lifts as she spins in a mesmerizing twirl finishing off the remnants until is crumbles further into dust and ash. sword tucks smoothly against her hip, fabric of crimson colored dress concealing the weapon.
issac, the least important man in dracula's castle would die by her own hand. even if she had to drag him here herself, she would. his death would be hers and hers alone. she'd find him again & again ..........
a ripple of what could be described as color and heat alerts carmilla, icy brows drawing together as perfectly sculpted forehead creases. a portal? a way out? it was something new; something exciting. with the speed of a immortal and a blur of porcelain and crimson she’s lunging forward. all too soon vibrant pearlescent colors vanish and out falls a man, landing abruptly inches from where other worldly colors had just been. hissing as ash is stirred, carmilla steps back slightly. nose upturns and crinkles at the waft of human. but his scent is muted, all her senses down here were. she eyes his large frame questioningly as his backside is presented to the curious vampire.
‘ you’re fucking joking, ’ icy gaze narrows. as if her eternity couldn’t get any worse. shimmering gold crest stares back at her, a stinging insignia for the immortal. she begins to laugh, throwing her head back to orange lit sky, half mad. it’s a manic & desperately sad sound. almost another wail. nails clutch at aching stomach, clenching fabric in a small attempt at grounding herself. she swallows and tucks frayed silver strands behind her ear. ‘ fucking brilliant. the last belmont, at my feet, life taken while i’m rotting down here. ’ spinning away from him she looks back up to the sky, fangs glinting in the amber glow of the underworld. ‘ if we’re taking requests, ’ she shouts at nothing, at everything. ‘ i’d love a certain forgemasters arrival..... ’ a pause as bitter smirk finds perfectly inked lips. ‘ issac. bring me issac, you goddamn bastards! ’ ( @lastscion )
