Nov 10, 2014
❝ I do not FEAR you, Sister so please stop with your patronising attempts at scaring me. You're no better than me.
I p i t y you. ❞
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❝ I do not FEAR you, Sister so please stop with your patronising attempts at scaring me. You're no better than me.
I p i t y you. ❞
♣
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I simply cannot rate what is already perfect.
A bored yawn flees pale lips as the crimson haired Devil descends to the lower levels of her home. Tiny hands effortlessly moving to tie the silken robe around her lithe figure, oceanic optics set on the familiar presence of her beloved Creation. Lately Lucifer was busying herself with a new pet project, a little blonde she'd found in the Southern states. Simply divine when she screamed, oh yes. However, now wasn't the time to cloud her mind with thoughts of another---- Mary was here, after all. "Oh, good. You're here, love. Tell me, shall we discuss the bringing of the next apocalypse now? ----or are you busy?"
"I’m afraid you’re a bit ‘tied up’."
”No shit.” Stop it Lana, there’s no time left to be spiteful. Her mind was racing, having given up struggling from the restraints that Mary Eunice had so kindly bound her to the bed with. She should have been used to it by now - the immoral practices in this place but she wasn’t. This wasn’t something she wanted to become all too familiar with. “Just let me go.”
swynford-de-beaufort
My favorite thing about them: eVERYTHING LIKE HOW DOES ONE DO PERFECTION LIKE HER?!?!?!
My least favorite thing about them: that we are not married
Do I find them attractive? Extremely so.
Are we friends? YES x9459486
Would I date them? Yes
Would I marry them? DURR
Would I have children with them? I’d have multiple children
Would I die for them? Aye, I would
Let Me Out II Sister Mary Eunice & Cordelia
I don’t belong here
I don’t belong
I don’t
I
Let me out.
“Let go of me!” The blonde yelled, struggling against the men in white. The brutes had come into her house after the attack. Her initial assumption had been that they were part of the witch hunters. The moment she was shackled and thrown into the town car, she knew they weren’t. No. The witch hunters would’ve killed her, just as they had done to her family. Just like they had done to her students. The image of all of her loved ones, drenched in blood—it was the most horrifying thing she’d ever seen.
So, it came to a shock when the men accused her of attacking the group. They were obviously delirious. Why would she attack her own family? Her students? It wasn’t as if she was even powerful enough to do such a thing. Cordelia was barely a witch, only having been able to create potions. And said potions were made in order to help her. Aside from that, there was the occasional spell, but never to harm someone—let alone kill them. This was all simply a misunderstanding. The truth of the matter was that the hunters had broken into the large home and shot everyone. Her mother managed to protect the remaining survivors. Her.
There was no time to despair. Within seconds everything went to Hell. The men were there, twisting her arms into a painful position behind her back. It took everything within her not to cry out, not to let them have the satisfaction. Instead, she fought. Her tussle was hardly a challenge to the men. Their scoffing could barely be heard over the sound of her yelling. Help? No, that wasn’t what she was screaming for. For the first time in a long time, she longed for her mother. She wanted the woman to stand up and smite all of their enemies away. But she didn’t. She just laid there, covered in her own bloody mess.
Every bone in her body hurt. Her wrists would be bruised in the morning, as would her ribs. Despite her argument, they pushed her out of the Academy and into the car. The woman next door stood at the entrance, yelling some religious bullshit. As if she had been to blame for all of this. It took all of Delia’s strength to keep from lashing out more and spitting into the woman’s face. But she had more dignity than that. She would yell, just not at the woman next door.
The young witch sat in the car, trying to fully compose herself. There was time to think. Blood covered her ripped clothes, making it painstakingly evident of her trouble. In the back seat, she tried to think of a plan. How on Earth would she get out of there? They were probably brining her to their headquarters. That had to be it.
The screaming came to an end, though the peace was held short. She was pulled out of the vehicle, being pulled into the large place. The mismatched eyes landed on the asylum, brand new sounds falling upon her ears. Immediately, she wanted to leave. This wasn’t their headquarters. This was a madhouse. A legitimate madhouse. It terrified her. She didn’t belong here. She needed to get out.
It wasn’t long before Cordelia was rushed into the showers, the cold water hitting her body. Then, came the new clothes—or rather, lack there of. Her trip through the institute came to a stop when she walked into the office. Her hands remained handcuffed before her, waiting for someone to enter and speak to her.
“I shouldn’t be here! Let me leave!” The female stood, turning to look at the door. Mistake number one. The dual colored eyes landed on the entrance, watching as the door swung open.
Remember those replies I promised? Yeah, I'm working on them now.
These are the people I owe currently:
sanctum-daemonium (Starter)
madisonmontgomeryxo (3)
misslanawinters
youwillendinflames (Starter)
( ╹◡╹) (●ω●✿)
OutOfChrysanthemums: We will be awesome friends! And, shall we plot something, or would you like to just have me cook something up? :)
I was just about to message you to ask you if you wanted to plot, by the way. Fun fact.