@thepinkforce / from here
A cell that had once kept prisoners of the serpent, now homes the serpent instead. A twisted sort of irony they had little care for. A cold draft hangs in the air, the stale scent of bloods residue equally as prevalent. Their blood now mingles with the stains on the walls and floors, blends in just as fittingly. A legend or not, the crimson liquid remains just as morbid and worthless as this cages paint. Week one, and they hadn’t accepted the gravity of their situation. Still arrogant, still snippy and feigning an elitist. Acting as if they could get out of their cage whenever they wanted. Week two, and arrogance dwindles, they become more cooperative, trying to manipulate trust and leniency. Week three and four, the serpent wants to sink their teeth in to anything that moves, for the mere sake of proving their ferociousness. But they don’t, they fight back only when someone dares raise a hand at them. Taunts, they can take, but physical corrections are met with equal violence. Unlike a more subservient pet, one can not force a serpent in to submission. But by the time it has been so very long in this empty cell, perhaps they have come to like the visits from their captors team. Even if the shinobi come merely to taunt them. Lack of stimulation is far more painful than any insult or injury.
Golden eyes are a shade darker, but they are not frightened, if that had been her expectation. There is nothing that manages to terrify them so easily. Rabid? Perhaps a bit. An unhinged edge, a look of someone who had snapped lingers in the depths of amber irises. Not yet breaking through to the surface. But certainly a warning lurks in their gaze, as if their calmness may be transformed in to feral resent at the flip of a switch. Approaching the hall feels less like approaching a caged prisoner, but more a caged animal. When she arrives, the tension in their body lessens. They had anticipated someone else, she has proven herself no threat to them these days. Due to decency, not incompetence. The offered food that slides in to the cell is now beside various other trays. Discarded meals, none touched. More because the serpent is fussy, stubborn even. They haven’t eaten majority of the meals prepared since their detainment. They watch her, dulled eyes still just bright enough to illuminate the darker shadows of the cell. The click of the tray hitting cement sounds, before their voice echos the cell instead. “You don’t usually come here,” they say, their figure slipping from the shadows. A motion that mirrors a mixture of innocent curiosity, predatory fixation and yet- hesitant distrust. They finally reach the bars, slender fingers coiled around the metal that keeps them trapped. The clang of the chain around their ankle pulls them briefly, keeping them from escaping even if the door is open, “is it too optimistic to hope my last watch lost his head?”
