Cheshire, Cheshire

[sarangseureowo]

[minicohen-blog]

“The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious;"

[bleu-devil-blog]

Ah, yes. How indeed did this young wolf know her Father’s name? What a curious turn of events. The wolf took a step back and felt the heel of his boot snag onto a root, causing him to stumble back a bit before regaining his step. His feathered friend let out a squawk as it’s powerful wings began to beat against the strong winds, carrying it above the two children.

A loud groaning came from the trees that stood tall and proud around the boy and the girl. Suddenly, a large root became undone by the soil and raced towards Lily. Quickly, he rushed forward and scooped the girl into his arms, bring her farther away from the dangers of the forest.

          “bird!” the wolf cried out to his companion who cawed in answer, “get away from here before the trees begin to attack you also!”

the bird floated still as a look of confusion crossed it’s expression, “sire, i leave you not alone to deal with this horrendous entity!”

          “you must leave! now!” with a final growl as an order, the wolf king ran towards his castle, dodging the shooting roots with an alarming speed, his cloak of red fluttering behind him.—

Having no time to open the large wooden doors of his castle, the wolf scaled his way up the side of cold bricks, girl over his shoulder. Soon, slower than usual because of the additional weight, he was at the top of his fortress, the cold north wind biting his cheeks. Pressing her down to the flat roof of the castle, the wolf waited silently for the rushing of leaves and grumbling of eart subsided. Silence engulfed the forest, a blanket of gray washing over the earth. Night was slowly approaching.

Sapphire eye glinted with a shine of red as the boy looked down at Lily. She was quivering, he didn’t know if it was from shock of the cold winds. Gingerly, he unwrapped his velvet red, lamb fur lined coat and set in on her head of ruined hair of blond. Though he longed to question her; he questioned himself the most.

           Why did it hurt so much when he thought about the name Cohen?

     What was that strange flashback with the young human baby in a cradle?

Anger and confusion began to flood over as well as stress; he didn’t understand what to do with young Lily neither. Sharp nails began to dig into his fine shorts as the decisions began to pour onto him, causing his head to spin and his stomach to ache

It was then, he felt a hand, warmth rushing through his body. Looking up with his only eye, he was greeted with a knowing look and solemn smile from the girl who seemed years younger than him.

[minicohen-blog]

Reaction time cuts short as a hands reach out for her small frame before her mind could process the changes in her environment; a gasp escaping as eyes focused on the now-sentient root that had begun to barrel its way through the earth, darting toward them. Between the strands of blonde that blocked her visage and the thumping in her chest that slammed against her ribcage, she could sense the feral survival that radiated from the Wolf King – the way his eyes scanned the sky for the shadow of the falcon and the blue of his crystalline eye clouded by doubt and frustration. Yet somehow, even clutched to his side like an extra baggage (a baby koala; a monkey), Lily felt safe – perhaps considering by this stranger's side to be the safest in the entire world right now. But why? She questions as a yelp escapes her and forces her to bury her face to the crook of his collars, the musky scent of earth and animalistic instinct mixes in with the familiarity of a cradle; a family. (Interrupted,) she lands on the brick and mortar of the High Walls she had admired earlier, and albeit uninjured, Lily cowers as the wind howls and threatens by her ear.                                            (G I V E     H E R——) but her protector barely flinches as the earth resided back to its natural state; the devolution of conscious flora rescinding. Would she understand what that was about? Maybe one day science would explain it – everything about this enchanted forest that was supposedly only part of lore.  But what science can not explain, though, was the sense of marred belonging and misplaced, un-understood trust that stood inexplicable between the two. The word, brother, replays in her mind somehow and transplants her thoughts to a time where their existence was not separated by worlds of mystery and existence – where they were a same breed of human and not split into two parallel worlds where one was a Wolf King, (growling, conversing with birds) and the other, upright and speaking comprehensible thoughts. His name lays on the edge of her tongue like a magic word that would somehow unlock years that had wedged themselves unfavourably between them— a few moments, a handful of scattered minutes that could have very well even spanned years and decades if so the universe had conspired—

Despite all, she tightens a hand around the wrist of the boy – flesh, like a human; soft to the touch and smiles as incomprehensible looks meet their gaze. His appellation was still "brother", regardless; "Cohen", to a proven large extent / // A finger reaches out for his chest, meeting gently where his heart would lay behind ribcage and muscle. The same smile pulls on delicate features that mirrored the King's on a closer look (siblings, familiar) while her free hand takes his and places it against hers. It beats – one, two, one, two in the manner of a healthy human, the subside of fear decreasing it to a standard. As if on second thought, she pulls out a charm with the family crest emblazoned on that hung around her neck, and presents the amulet in the outstretched palm of the boy.                    L. COHEN A half, incomplete. A Cohen would have the other, similar piece. 

[minicohen-blog]

Sunny day's sweeping the clouds away || Elise & Lily

[outlawandorder]

Elise was barely paying attention to her prisoner’s determined reply, sharp gaze already fixated on the avian shadow flitting in front of the prison bars above the pair. As the metal bars began to smolder and buckle under the heat radiating from the winged presence, the officer let out a feral hiss of displeasure, shooting a deadly glare at Lily.

"You summoned that Pokemon, didn’t you? Or did Daddy send it?” she snarled right in the young blonde’s face, her eye twitching with rage as she struggled to regain control of her situation. “Answer me!”

No longer caring about being gentle with the preschooler, Elise roughly tilted her chair back, dragging Lily out of the cell and across the hall as the melting bars on the window caved in completely, sunset hues spilling into the now deserted hold.

"Contain that Pokemon!" Elise barked at her White Knights waiting out in the corridor, growling in annoyance as an entire squadron of her minions dutifully crowded around the door with their Pokeballs at the ready. "And if Nixon Cohen arrives, let him into our cell. Make sure he is alone.”

Read More

[minicohen-blog]

Fear is a human reflex; a part of the physiological reaction for survival commonly known as the flight-or-fight reaction. It occurs when a situation is perceived harmful or threatening to survival and stimulates the adrenal medulla to produce a cascade of chemicals priming the creature for a spurt of energy to run, or to attack.  Bound in rope and at the mercy of her predator, Lily could do neither – resulting in fright and hapless watching as her mother's most prized Falcon was quickly surrounded by soldiers clad in white. Her breath is held bated as the angry, almost primeval caw rivals the policewoman's previous vocalisations as if to threaten and goad a response from the surrounding trainers; yet quickly a familiar, territorial bark comes in response to the bird's and lends just a hint of relief.

And for the brief moment that passes, the child worries for the well-being of the skilled pokémon, but realises within the same heartbeat that her concern was a misplaced one when musky dust settles in contrast to her blonde locks and elicits a reaction of disgust from her – the child shakes to rid the dirt that had settled unkindly atop her head like a parasite— —voice ricocheting off the new (old) cell and resound like a slap that rings in her ears — Listen to me; Answer me! — more demands that were met with no answer time and time again. Azure eyes that had once held indignation barely manage to catch the reflection of the blade brought harshly against the light, but before logic and understanding could connect-the-dots (her favourite past time), it had felt as though a weight had been lifted . . . Like the Tower of Babel and Jericho's walls, it falls like things against god's hand; blonde strewn against the concrete grey of lifeless colour –thirty seconds set as the ultimatum for casualty. The tally now at T minus 30: pigtails.  Lily watches (for what else could she do) as the crazed officer approaches again with that glint in her eye – the kind that cartoon villains had just as they thought they had won, but the hero swoops in and saves the day. She looks to the door with some hope that daddy would barge in and untie her from the unkind ropes of this chair, or perhaps even Ullr and Helheim that were fending off the troops next door, but even at six years old she sees the situation and knows that optimism was merely a construct and that Superheroes were fiction.  T minus 25: He runs the labyrinth of the goddamned place, swearing that if a single hair on his princess had been harmed, he would burn the entire fucking place down. The Druddigon and Krookodile by his side had gone ahead and blasted down every door in the corridor of underground Lumiose but so far – nothing. Nothing but dirty, abandoned jail cells that reek of piss and death and forgotten sewage; of broken spirit and self-righteous justification.  It seemed, that for people like her – Elise; that laws were merely concepts. For what was a mob to a king and a king to a god, and a god to a non-believer? T minus eighteen. 

[minicohen-blog]

Signpost for wandering spirits || Xander

[rocket-thief]

"Krookidile tears won’t work on me, kid." Xander sighed, completely unaffected by the girl’s large, watering eyes. Not only was the little brat acting incredibly ungrateful, but she’d also deceived him into awarding her with the best of his reject-candy prizes—although that would quickly be rectified. "But since you’re actually just an regular ol’ Pikachu… well, that changes everything.”

The roguish smirk that crossed the grunt’s lips was suspicious to say the least as he reached into the girl’s basket and reclaimed his prize, shamelessly sneaking a few of the other sweets out of her basket along with the sour candies.

"Sorry, but I can’t let ya keep the top prize for originality, since you’re not really a Makuhita," he told her, pocketing his handful of treats before patting her on the head. "But don’t worry, you get a sweet consolation prize!”

Finally, Xander dropped her consolation prize into the plastic Pumpkaboo: a snack-sized chocolate bar, which had been smooshed until it was nearly flat.

"Now scram, kid,” he told her as he turned to go back into the house. “I’m sure ya ‘ve got plenty of other people to bug for candy.”

[minicohen-blog]

Indignation forces the child to puff out her cheeks at the decidedly terrible young man; and whilst her mood had soured to a near-contemptuous state, the Cohen still retained her manners when dealing with people like these. Her parents had often told her about virtues; of karma – of the unfairness in the world, (and what great parents they are, really.) But irregardless, his words were still like a two-part punch – first, the rescission of her "top-prize" (even if it was something she hadn't like), stung slightly, and second, the flattened candy bar that hadn't cushioned the initial blow as much as anyone would have expected either.  "Thanks a lot, mister." she grumbles, just as her vengeance-incarnate Talonflame swoops down on the front lawn of the house and sets the perfectly-manicured greens into a singed ring of ashen grass. Turning to leave the porch of the unkindly boy, Lily Cohen looks over her shoulder for one stink-eyed glare at the blond thief, her tongue stuck out at the childish teen as small, careless steps make their way down the front. 

But in the moment of pissed-off six-year-old stomping, the child trips and barely manages to right her posture against a small balloon that had drifted nearby. It hadn't seemed conspicuous enough and seemed almost like a stroke of good luck to have such a huge, lovely yellow balloon drift by instead of the standard grim, purple halloween props that floated idly by within the estate, saving her the disgrace of falling flat on her face. A gleeful smile crosses her features and turns the prior frown with distraction; small hand tightening around the floating bobble— that tightens back around her wrist. 

It tugs leftward down the street, but Lily turns right and disappears down the next block.

[minicohen-blog]

2. Hana Zane Dan WHAT AM I DOING

[minicohen-blog]

#6 -- stevben, tess, zane

kill, betray, have on your zombie apocalypse team—murder tess— betray stevben stupid stone— zane for zombies i hope you can run

[minicohen-blog]

number six; xander, elise, & uncle mort~

kill, betray, have on your zombie apocalypse team

— Bye bye policewoman— "Who are you again?" Xander? Don't know him... he stole my candy.— Uncle Morty 4 zombie team 

[minicohen-blog]

4. Xander, Elise, Vinny

adopt, be adopted by, marry

— Adopt Elise the brat— Be adopted by candy man Xander— Marry really cool guy Vinny

[the-write-ideas]

Send me three names + a number...

fuck, marry, kill

marry, cuddle, sleep with

fuck, take a bullet for, murder

adopt, be adopted by, marry 

(TW!) be a slave to, be your slave, sell to a slave market

kill, betray, have on your zombie apocalypse team

seduce, steal from, serenade

[minicohen-blog]

Signpost for wandering spirits || Xander

[rocket-thief]

Finally, Xander’s favorite day of the year had arrived. It wasn’t the scary films, the abundance of revealing costumes, or even the candy that appealed to him—it was the stealing of the candy he loved the most.

That’s right, from children.

And once he’d had his fun (it had only taken the master thief all of an hour to track down the most adorable and vulnerable little Captain Braviaries and Clefairy Princesses and rob them of their hard-earned confectionary treats), he threw a party. Not at his own tiny apartment, of course, but a nice sized three-bedroom house complete with a surround sound home entertainment system! The family that lived there had gone out of town for the weekend.

As for the trick-or-treaters, they were the perfect way to get rid of all of the unwanted boxes of raisins, dental floss, and assorted reject candies he’d sorted out of his stolen stash.

Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Opening the front door he could barely make out the silhouette of a tiny trick-or-treater through the eyeholes of his Duskiull mask.

"What’re you s’posed to be?" he asked, puzzling for a moment over the girl’s costume, removing his mask for a better view. Before the poor child could answer, he interrupted her. "Wait, don’t tell me!"

After a brief pause the blonde snapped his fingers.

"Ah, a Makuhita," Xander grinned, noting the apple-red blush circles on the little girl’s cheeks and blonde ear-like pigtails atop her head. "Gotta say, that’s the cutest Makuhita costume I’ve ever seen! Actually, it’s the only one I’ve seen. Congrats, kid, ya win the top prize for originality~”

From his large hoodie pocket the boy produced his collection of Halloween candy rejects. The “top prize” he had mentioned earlier was a small box of sour hard candies—the extra sour kind that hurt your jaw and made you drool non-stop for half an hour—which he dropped carelessly into the kid’s Pumkaboo basket.

"Happy Halloween!"

[minicohen-blog]

The Duskull that comes to the door was hardly a scare to the young Cohen – and when the mask is taken off, she makes an effort to re-recite the Halloween mantra with her basket of candies outstretched toward the male. Trick or tre— the child begins, only to have her charmingly sweet disposition flipped when he calls her a Makuhita. Almost immediately, confusion shows itself across her features with a brief scowl, I am a Pikachu, interrupting his words indulgently before being cut off yet again. 

"Pikachu," the twin-tailed six year old demands correctively as blue hues followed the movement of the candy dropping into a Pumpkaboo bag excitedly. The weight of the jawbreakers had felt substantial enough as compared to the small scatterings of sugary treats most houses gave out, and thoughts of a favoured chocolate bar flitted through her mind. One could only imagine the soured look of disgust the sweet-tooth had upon realisation that not only was the blond boy rude, he also had an awful knack for dealing with trick-or-treaters.  It has almost seemed like this was his trick on her.  "Is this your trick, mister?" Disappointment laces her voice with a perfected puppy-dog pout (the kind that would get the child anything her heart had desired from her father) directed at the Rocket grunt, her feet shuffled idly against each other in exaggeration of a wounded expression.

"I don't like the sour candies a whole lot. Don't Mister think I'm sweet enough for a sugary piece of candy? My mama doesn't let me eat those but I'm sure you understand what it's like to sneak a few treats once-in-awwhile—?" The young Cohen pauses for additional dramatic effect, and gauging from his expression— —another attempt at childlike seduction quickly comes forth with watering optics peering from long lashes; the Pumpkaboo basket held out toward Xander with an insane insistance, the other hand holds deceptively close to her eyes ready to collect the crocodile tears which threatened at the dam. 

[minicohen-blog]

“The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious;"

[bleu-devil-blog]

A static shock went from her hand to his, creating a angered grunt to leave his lips and the quick retraction of his hand.

           ”what did she do?!” the wolf king barked and his feathered companion to which the bird fluttered it’s wings to stay steady on the boy’s shoulder.

           ”fair now young wolf, fair now,” the bird chirped as he hopped, “by which the lady gave you a handshake like you asked for, lord” the bird chirped in a confused tone.

The blue haired wolfboy was silent, “… there,” he paused and scrambled in his mind to find words to fit the description of the electricity that ran through him from the girl, from Lily, “a shock came from her,” he sent a look to the girl who seemed appalled at his rather disturbed reaction to her touch, although he meant no malice towards her, curiosity more like it, judging by her expression he must have thrown her a rather nasty look.

           ”sire, the words you described mean nothing to a feathered beast such as i, elaborate if you could,” black beaded eyes challenged the king of the magical forest.

           ”test my patience if you will, bird,” the wolf snorted as he flexed his hands, opening and closing it, trying to remember the feeling of when he held hands with the young blond. It was a feeling of damp melancholy, and the smell of expensive tea leaves. The king could only stitch the parts together to mean that Lily here was from a rather fair off family. Her scent was filled with the aroma of delicacy and a pampered life, unlike the poor village girls who met their lives end in this forsaken forest. Alas, there was also a scent mixed in her that reminded him of something he yearned to remember but at the same moment, forget all together. She had the scent of a loving family, the complete opposite of what the little king had endured.

           ”she reminds me of the things i do not have, fledgling,” the king bit back bitterly, “for somewhat reason, i do not wish her the luck of the devil; a connection is between us,” he stepped forward to the flower girl (she reluctantly took a step back, which the wolf flicked his furry ears to) the boy took her hand into his once more and refused to budge when she tried to tug away.

           ”Li-ly," he tried to growl out in a language long forgotten to him, foreign to his ears his own voice.

         ”Li-ly.”

A flash of memory ran through his mind; a small child with fair skin and eyes as bright as diamonds in a bed made for a new born human child.

            “L-Lily…" his teeth grit and his mind began to sting with an uncharming feel, "Co…hen…”

[minicohen-blog]

When the hand pulls away sharply it had reminded her of claws and torn flesh; the sudden rescind and harsh glare of narrowed eyes unwarranted — what did I do? laced on her thoughts as anger and confusion surged through the both of them. While Lily was distracted enough by her pulsating digits and how the warmth of the touch had left her cold and shivering, the growl was left ignored while the bird squawked in seeming conversation with the Wolf King. The only sounds that she had been paying attention to was the sound of her blood rushing in her ears, her eyes slowly moving back to the motion of the other's hand opening and closing— opening closing.

Fear was apparent now even as the scowl dropped from his face with a marred, vague sense of apology – even the bird (the tawny creature) seemed to soften considerably at the turn of events. Though whatever it was that the boy had learnt of her – Lily had known nothing about him save for the fact that he was probably dangerous; and whatever excitement she had once felt about befriending the feral creature was left with a heightened sense of apprehension and nervousness – what if he was one of those in the lore – the reason why people went m i s s i n g?

»  THE KALOS TRIBUNAL » YET ANOTHER CHILD TAKEN; PARENTS advised to keep children out of FOREST Increased sightings of PHANTUMP indicate sinister activity

Lily flinches when the exhalation of his breath touches her skin, the condensation in the frigid air hanging like tiny suspended icicles and diamond dust. Though she has convinced herself by now that flight was better than fight, the sound of something familiar latches onto her and creates a last chance for any form of reconciliation between the two.                  Di- did yo—? yet words are cut short again by the intrusion of her namesake falling off foreign tongue. The wolf boy's speech was nothing perfect, heavily accented and mistakable, and yet Cohen. was something the child was adamant that she had heard.  Excitement / Worry / Frustration / Confusion meld into one simultaneously likened to a parent hearing their child speak for the first time. Say it again, they would request as though they couldn't quite believe it themselves — the baby said mama / the baby said papa! Repeatedly, she fixes her gaze with resolve on the boy's singular optic, cutting the back-stepped distance between them with some sort of falsified confidence. 

How did he know it? She had been instructed not to tell anyone about her father's name – Cohen, as a measure of keeping her safe (it has caused so much trouble already / I don't want them to destroy her childhood too—) Then how did he, she wonders – this boy with all his oddities and shortcomings and that strange bird, know about her secret namesake?                                         She even pinky-promised daddy not to say it                                                          a n y w h e r e       (e l s e).   "Repeat it—," and if he does, her next question is . . .                              "H o w    d i d    y o u   k n o w   m y   p a p a 's   n a m  e?"

[miascherbatsky]

[minicohen-blog]

"treat this roof like my daughter and RAISE IT"

—Nixon Cohen (dad) by Daniplex

[redacte-blog]

For Lily please! 1. Is Morty your favorite uncle? 2. Do you ever wished to have more siblings and if so, have you ever asked your parents for it? 3. You're not afraid of thunderstorms, are you?

Ask the mun or the muse three questions. Two will be the truth and one will be a lie.1. Yes, Uncle Mor-ti-mer2. No, Lily wishes to be the one and only child that mama and papa will love. More doggie are okay, but babies are icky!3. Lily is afraid of nothing!

[minicohen-blog]

Signpost for wandering spirits || Xander

There was always a grain of truth in superstition – tales of otherworldly encounters that add drama to the otherwise placid reality of life. The world of what happens after expiry has always been a mean to scare children into obedience; and the most infamous of these lore are those of the "Signpost for Wandering Spirits". What are they, you ask? Purple-hued and ethereal with tendrils that twined around small, un-careful hands tug children into the afterworld where death keeps them forever and wiping their existence off without a trace. Who would find them / Where do they search?  That's what they are, and should some unfortunate events unfold, only Giratina would know where they are; and we all know he isn't a friendly kind of god, no.       "So, Lily, even though we know you're a big girl now,                              be careful while you're out trick-or-treating." —— With her ponytails tied up in bunches around her head like a pikachu's ears and already-rosy cheeks stained with patches of red face paint, the child beams excitably and chatters amicably with her mother who fussed over the little Cohen darling with cameras and polaroids. In her tiny hands are a Pumpkaboo basket and her pokémon guardian's clickers — a Furfrou draped festively over with a tablecloth over its body and a Talonflame that opted to incinerate whatever costume his human companions had attempted to dress him up in.           Don't hesitate to call for help if you need to alright, sweetcakes?  Her father's voice drifts somewhere from behind the adjoining walls, a low cuss muffled by the shuffling papers he that had fluttered to the ground. 

         Sorry that I couldn't get away from work to go Trick-or-treatin' with you, princess—                I'm pretty sure your Uncle Morty would have my head for missing this... But with a hug around his legs Lily Cohen forgives her father and bounds restlessly out the door of their estate with an enthusiastic wave. "I'll bring home lotsandlots of candy so we can share it!"  Her voice is lost down the distance of her porch; Furfrou's claws clicking down the pebbled walkway as they exit to the residential street where a convivial atmosphere permeates the place with banners and lawn decorations and other children dressed as ghouls and goblins and various other anomalies; purple and orange balloons drift lackadaisical—             "Trick-or-treat?"

[z-a-y-a-c]

[minicohen-blog]

Sunny day's sweeping the clouds away || Elise & Lily

[outlawandorder]

"Daddy!"

Elise smiled as the littlest Cohen seemed to finally break under the stress of seeing her father so helpless and vulnerable, his desperate image demanding answers as it flickered slightly above the officer’s Holo Caster. Lily’s cries seemed to diminish into whimpers after a while, and Elise couldn’t help but let out a decidedly evil laugh. Nixon’s daughter had put up a good fight, but the policewoman had finally found a crack in her steely Cohen armor, the key to her emotions: her father.

"I just want to go home.."

Elise almost couldn’t hear Lily’s murmured request above the desperate din that her father was making on the other end of the line, eyes gleaming cruelly as she muted the transmission and crouched in front of her prisoner, a twisted smile on her face. With water running down her features and soaking her beautiful blond hair, Lily looked more pitiful than ever, though her eyes still held a faint glimmer of hope, her small request still hanging unanswered in the air.

Elise would make her earn her right to return home.

Read More

[minicohen-blog]

As the image of her father's projection flickered wanly, Lily could do nothing but to obey helplessly toward the Officer's words – tears which pooled in her eyes threatening to spill over as she murmured a hushed sentence into the holocaster. Hurry, please— the childish voice begins, cracking just slightly in desperation as an infringing finger flicks at her cheek and rescinds the kindness of comfort away within the same limb. Her heart palpitates and she hears it ringing in her ears;  and with dirty water trickling down her face the Cohen girl is certain she's about to lose it if help didn't come soon enough— A one-two rhythm of droplets, the scuffling of paws and feather;                 You filth— the words ring, but by now she is uncertain if the insult was directed toward her or her father, and the last of her fighting spirit had been wrung out by the stream of antagonising torture clinging to the fabric of her clothing. Even as the woman had rescued her, the marred words that were ransom for the mercy was quickly deemed less of a benefit and more of a hindrance; the term her father had used so often before igniting a tiny glimmer of rebelliousness as it echoed aptly in her head.  Talk shit, get hit.  Another backhanded comment questions her upbringing and morals—                    do you think a bad man like that should be punished, Lily?  The child blinks (slowly, placidly – almost in a lull) at the awaiting woman, half-heartedly wondering how someone with morals as thwarted as hers could ever become a person of power – someone supposedly trustworthy and the upright example of what good should be. She thinks of what limited knowledge she has about people and human interaction, the brief encounters of good-vs-bad judgement she had exercised within six years of existence. She thinks of her mother, and her father in accordance to what had been doctrinated, and what she had learnt and experienced herself—     "Papa didn't hurt anyone.                                But you did." Cue-ball's bloodied ankles flash within her mind and sparks yet another wave of defiance, small fists balled up where they were chained in the manifesto of a wronged child's wrath.    "Bad people should be punished.                      But the bad people weren't papa or mama or me—"

The shadow of a large falcon falls over the single, top-most window of the cell – perched and arrogant as the wrought-metal bars of the aperture begun to give way under its heat. Layers of cheap, outer-material peel away like dust and chaff, falling to the ground in embering heaps of mortality.                                                             "You're the bad person!"