by SinVraal » Mon May 21, 2007 5:56 am
Yes, constable, the serpent considers; yes you most certainly have it.
The serpent remains rather still as Cinnabar's thongs snare about its slender, silvery length. The flames reflect in its polished scales in a vision of a thousand diminutive, personal hells wrought by its monstrous and sibliant voice. The flickering fire casts its shadow upon the wall, portraying it as a wriggling, writhing thing. The reality is far different.
It regards Ariane and Cinnabar with multi-faceted eyes of a ruby hue lent a sinister glow by their surroundings. It tastes the hot air with an onyx forked tongue and takes in the scent of mild sweat and scorched metal and regards its surroundings with new interest. Of the two, the creature considered, it wasn't sure who hated it more. Ariane had, to some extent, retained her possession of it. the Constable, however, seemed to see the creature truly - or at least, possibly, understood all the better just what it was capable of doing and what it actually wanted.
An old magic erupted from its gaze, attempting to taunt the pair with visions of what was and what could still be: visions of hated enemies, dangerous criminals and scheming politicians all laid low before the might of a powerful and seemingly just lawman. The magic whispered, an attempt to appease, before the explosive confrontation about to take place.
There were so many ways, it considered, to control people. Seduction, fear and even loathing or disgust could all be made into weapons. Its tiny head canted aside as it tasted the air once more, however, and it hissed with a small degree of satisfaction. Sometimes the best weapons, however, were those made of steel.
It turned an expectant head towards the door.
"I warned you, Mistress," the creature hissed. "Someone is searching for you..."
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...