it would seem the oh so joyous moment can only last
for so long; the woman before her was MOLDED through
hatred and wickedness — it’s all she is, all she ever even
knows and thus, all she can ever gain from others’. and it’s
not anything new between the two, how the former knew how
to spite the other. && in spite of herself, she only succumbs
to that trap even when it’s right before her.
light copper eyes narrow, the sickeningly sweet smile of great
amusement dissipating within mere minutes. ( damn you ) it’s
as if she weren’t meant to KEEP enjoyable things, that they will
never last in her favor. the uncomfortable approach of the other,
sealing the needed distance between the two, isn’t quite enough
to render her back like cornered prey — you’re as good as dead
isn’t as comforting of a thought anymore however — and her icy
palm is beside her cheek before she can slap it away.
let her babble — yet again. let her have this moment and
soak in a grand moment of villainy, it won’t last. she was just
as DISPOSABLE — it’s a pattern over and over and over and
of course she of all people must remind her through him — as
she opens her mouth to dare speak, it’s as if the clawed hand of
the monster from her childish fears has sealed itself fatally tight.
her hands fly immediately to her throw in desperation, a vain
effort knowing the strength of the other cannot be matched; oh
maker help her — between frantic, panicked heartbeats and a
pitiful, desperate gasp of air. she’ll snap my neck, and no doubt
she’ll get away with it. she can’t. she can’t scream. and for who?
who would dare intervene anyhow, let alone who would care?
Ah no words from the other. Serene. She couldn't stand that voice, that whiny righteous voice from one who acted as if she was better. As if she had more POWER than the Inquisitor.
The Minister is an idiot.
She presses her body to Tua's there is no space between them now, and the chilling air of the Force that resonates around the Inquisitor begins to coil around Tua. The Inquisitor gives a smile and lets a breathe out on Tua's lips, as they open even wider in a chance to bring more air. But she wouldn't allow that.
She is tired of Tua's confidence. The little girl needs to know who is in charge, who she should grovel at. Who to call her Mistress, her lord. When to speak. And when to beg for her life. The Inquisitor deserves more respect from useless trash like her. She's SITH. And Tua is nothing.
And she will remain nothing.
" Oh Minister, your skin is so soft. "
While one hand wraps around her neck another is brought to cheek again, petting it as if she was a dog.
" Then again one like you must stay pretty. Less the Empire find no use for a level five academy student with neither the brains nor brawns to show for it. Perhaps the teachers at the Academy should be investigated. Either their teaching ability is garbage, or they take pleasure in giving extra credit?"
She squeezes even tighter, small doses of the Force making the grip even tighter. The smile both sinister and beautiful. If some naive fool were to walk in on them now some would say they were lovers. Two women exploring each other --- and how wrong they were. There was no love here. Mutual hatred., was the emotion during this scene. She hated the minister, and the minister hated the inquisitor. The only love that existed was how much the Inquisitor loved seeing the small girl in pain.
As she strangles her she realizes something. It is small and not noticeable from afar, but from this close --- she can see bruise marks. aren't hers, they are to strong. Almost as if someone had chomped---
" Ah. First I take his office, then his position, and now I shall cover up the last remaining mark he has on that pretty white skin of yours.
I'd take you to bed but I don't wish to degrade myself. "
theartofmadeline
amandla
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
yousharknotpass
