The air grows thinner and he desperately tries to take a breath while loosening his hold on her. When straightening out his frame, widened eyes nearly bulge from his eyes as he chokes. A hand brushes at his throat, rubbing at his pale flesh before he croaked words at her.
“W-what.. have you done! What have you done, whore!†It comes out pained as he struggled to draw strength. Rivienne no longer sheds tears, the touch of desolation dissipated completely from her wet eyes, they were steeled, sharp and aware of what was happening. With her lashes, resting at half mast, the maiden watched in anticipation to what was to happen next. She made no effort to move, and saw his body language as it spoke volumes of what was to take place.
Rivienne closed her eyes then.
The back of his hand collided with enough force against her cheek and lip to cause blood to break free from her skin. She jerked her head to the side, receiving the impact. The blow caused her skin to burn, the ache would make its mark upon bronze flesh momentarily.
With a fluid, languid motion The Viper turned her head back to him and brushed her fingers along her bruised, broken lip. The blood is smeared twixt her fingers; those same lips spread into a serpentine smile. His eyes stared bewildered as the venom began to swim into his system. The numbness began on the source of where it started, his lips. His skin felt aflame at first, then nothingness spreads and ensnares him. Senses are lost, and she watches it unfold before her.
“Liberated thee from these bonds of servitude, denied thee a chance at seeing thy loved one. To feel their arms around thee, to feel their loving kiss, to see the enamored look in their eyes. Dost thou feel it yet? The fear encompassing thee?†Soft lips, the same ones he yearned to taste, whispered haunting verses to grace his elongated ear as she moved now against him. Her hand sweeps across his hardened jawline as he gasps for air and tries to gain control of his thoughts. Fingers lost feeling as they sought the blade’s hilt, but they found her touch instead. Taking his wrist, she pulls his hand away and holds it at eye-level between them. Using the adjacent hand, she curls her fingers around his own and bends his digits back, causing a crack to resonate into the air. She leaned to his visage and took in the sound, the bitter melody, of his pain.
He cried in agony, his legs threatened to give away underneath him completely; it was nothing compared to the warfare she set in motion within his body.
“Knoweth well in these moments,†she watched his saliva dribble from the corner of his lips, traveling down his cheeks. Red lined his eyes and she could not hear a breath escape him; Ciceroix was suffocating, but the rancor was well lit in his gaze, he had not lost his mind to dismay, nor was he accepting his fate, now. released his broken fingers and took a hold of the blade’s handle as he fell to a knee, clutching at his chest. It was released from its secured home and tossed aside carelessly, with little regard to where the blade would land.
“This face shall haunt thee beyond the realm of death, and by the will of the Commander, thou has’t fallen,†her eyes closed, and in that very second, when her words sank into the ravine of his mind, she spun on her heel to face the desk. The nightgown parts around her legs as she completed the turn and swipes one of her exposed daggers. When she finally faced him, his eyes widened at the glint of metal that candlelight kissed, but it soon vanishes from his sight. Rivienne’s hand struck out to take ownership of his chin, forcing him to look at her. She softened her features then and quietly spoke.
“Do not blink –â€
The last words to reach his ears before the blade rips through flesh and bone; the aroma of blood mingled with that of flora and death becomes a delightful perfume. With a push, the blade is forced to turn clockwise, until she is satisfied that his eyes are permanently embedded with her reflection. His face is released, limbs become lifeless, and he is slowly laid to his side on the floor. The blood spills, flowing in rivulets into his hair. He was to die regardless, for the poison Marbella concocted would do well to insure that. But it is Rivienne herself who wished to deliver his death, by her hand.
Kneeling down, the fabric rips along her naked thigh as she pats over his attire, finding the compartment of his uniform where he would keep notes, anything informative to his mission. In a pocket, of his jacket, she didn’t find anything written in parchment, but a pearl. A pearl she plucked away and examined in silence. Whilst that hand is busy, the other pulls at her dagger, freeing it from its buried state within the man’s skull.
“W-what.. have you done! What have you done, whore!†It comes out pained as he struggled to draw strength. Rivienne no longer sheds tears, the touch of desolation dissipated completely from her wet eyes, they were steeled, sharp and aware of what was happening. With her lashes, resting at half mast, the maiden watched in anticipation to what was to happen next. She made no effort to move, and saw his body language as it spoke volumes of what was to take place.
Rivienne closed her eyes then.
The back of his hand collided with enough force against her cheek and lip to cause blood to break free from her skin. She jerked her head to the side, receiving the impact. The blow caused her skin to burn, the ache would make its mark upon bronze flesh momentarily.
With a fluid, languid motion The Viper turned her head back to him and brushed her fingers along her bruised, broken lip. The blood is smeared twixt her fingers; those same lips spread into a serpentine smile. His eyes stared bewildered as the venom began to swim into his system. The numbness began on the source of where it started, his lips. His skin felt aflame at first, then nothingness spreads and ensnares him. Senses are lost, and she watches it unfold before her.
“Liberated thee from these bonds of servitude, denied thee a chance at seeing thy loved one. To feel their arms around thee, to feel their loving kiss, to see the enamored look in their eyes. Dost thou feel it yet? The fear encompassing thee?†Soft lips, the same ones he yearned to taste, whispered haunting verses to grace his elongated ear as she moved now against him. Her hand sweeps across his hardened jawline as he gasps for air and tries to gain control of his thoughts. Fingers lost feeling as they sought the blade’s hilt, but they found her touch instead. Taking his wrist, she pulls his hand away and holds it at eye-level between them. Using the adjacent hand, she curls her fingers around his own and bends his digits back, causing a crack to resonate into the air. She leaned to his visage and took in the sound, the bitter melody, of his pain.
He cried in agony, his legs threatened to give away underneath him completely; it was nothing compared to the warfare she set in motion within his body.
“Knoweth well in these moments,†she watched his saliva dribble from the corner of his lips, traveling down his cheeks. Red lined his eyes and she could not hear a breath escape him; Ciceroix was suffocating, but the rancor was well lit in his gaze, he had not lost his mind to dismay, nor was he accepting his fate, now. released his broken fingers and took a hold of the blade’s handle as he fell to a knee, clutching at his chest. It was released from its secured home and tossed aside carelessly, with little regard to where the blade would land.
“This face shall haunt thee beyond the realm of death, and by the will of the Commander, thou has’t fallen,†her eyes closed, and in that very second, when her words sank into the ravine of his mind, she spun on her heel to face the desk. The nightgown parts around her legs as she completed the turn and swipes one of her exposed daggers. When she finally faced him, his eyes widened at the glint of metal that candlelight kissed, but it soon vanishes from his sight. Rivienne’s hand struck out to take ownership of his chin, forcing him to look at her. She softened her features then and quietly spoke.
“Do not blink –â€
The last words to reach his ears before the blade rips through flesh and bone; the aroma of blood mingled with that of flora and death becomes a delightful perfume. With a push, the blade is forced to turn clockwise, until she is satisfied that his eyes are permanently embedded with her reflection. His face is released, limbs become lifeless, and he is slowly laid to his side on the floor. The blood spills, flowing in rivulets into his hair. He was to die regardless, for the poison Marbella concocted would do well to insure that. But it is Rivienne herself who wished to deliver his death, by her hand.
Kneeling down, the fabric rips along her naked thigh as she pats over his attire, finding the compartment of his uniform where he would keep notes, anything informative to his mission. In a pocket, of his jacket, she didn’t find anything written in parchment, but a pearl. A pearl she plucked away and examined in silence. Whilst that hand is busy, the other pulls at her dagger, freeing it from its buried state within the man’s skull.
