[So many children, so much death. Something familiar, but distance, pings Seviilia's muddy memory. A gutteral sound, inhuman, a lash of pain and a consciousness rising, met with a deserted town full of bodies. Women, children, torn and scattered across the ground, some of them still begging for release. Her mind pushes it back, easily taking Murphy's memory instead. The memory of being used, the memories of revenge, of fighting back.
From their position presses back against her skull, Seviilia's blackened ears slowly raise in interest. She almost smiles, watching him kill. It's easy to share the satisfaction he gets, the reflex to lick her lips kept in check only thanks to the appearance of Bellamy in their shared mindscape. How he returns to favor to him, every detail down to the way he kicks the stool out from under him.
It wasn't that she didn't believe Murphy when he had told her that he had paid him back, but seeing it, doing it -- that was different. It still doesn't explain his loyalty, why he had forgiven him or have a rat's ass about his well-being over her own.
(Bitterness, it comes and seethes in her belly again like a faithful hound.)]
cw: gore
From their position presses back against her skull, Seviilia's blackened ears slowly raise in interest. She almost smiles, watching him kill. It's easy to share the satisfaction he gets, the reflex to lick her lips kept in check only thanks to the appearance of Bellamy in their shared mindscape. How he returns to favor to him, every detail down to the way he kicks the stool out from under him.
It wasn't that she didn't believe Murphy when he had told her that he had paid him back, but seeing it, doing it -- that was different. It still doesn't explain his loyalty, why he had forgiven him or have a rat's ass about his well-being over her own.
(Bitterness, it comes and seethes in her belly again like a faithful hound.)]
( But he lived. )