“…Shut up. Just stop. Stop.”
The carousel-flavored blade of the sheep’s points shakily at Sylphrena’s face, apricot eyes blazing with a newborn betrayal.
“You can’t say you love me. Don’t you understand, Sylphrena? Wake the FUCK up.
Love is unconditional — gentle, warm, like a meadow casted in shade. A babblin’ brook, whisperin’ flowers, rustlin’ trees…not by force. And certainly not through the means of DECEIT.”
Still, there’s doubt flickering behind Eve’s truth — what truly was the truth? What was a lie? How long had she been under the WHIMS OF DECEIT?
“I…I still love you. I would be bluffin’ if I said I didn’t still possess feelins’ for you, my lady. You still very much are my kingdom and my charge — but gods, by the brilliant weave above, what the FUCK happened to you?
Killin’ INNOCENTS now? Is this supposed to be your idea of a playwright? There was a cryptic sense of entertainment when it came to puppeteering people, I surely took part in that — but now you’re THREATENIN’ TO KILL THEM ALL AND THEIR TIMELINES? DRAININ’ WHO WERE YOUR ONLY BRETHREN WITH NO REMORSE? That’s not my lady.”
The grip on her weapon tightens, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
“…Who ARE you? Where is the woman I love?”
@prestideception





















