MOANING IN ITALIAN CAN'T BE HEALTHY | O, ANGRY CONFRONTATION

[font=gothic courier]EXCUSE THE RIDICULOUS THREAD TITLE I LITERALLY JUST CAME BACK FROM SEEING AN OPERA. EVENTS REFERENCED IN THIS CAN BE FOUND IN THIS OLD DUSTY THREAD FROM BACK IN JANUARY 2014: CLICK.
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She was bored.

However, then again, for someone who possessed such a fickle and capricious nature as herself, boredom was a concept that she—over the past few centuries—had become intimately familiar with.

The elegant femme could be found seated on the frost-covered steps of the cabin she shared with her sister and her mother (who these days seemed to rarely frequent the place, but what she was doing elsewhere was of no concern to her), the contrast of her gold-trimmed cloak of crimson velvet draped about her shoulders making it seem as though her ghostly pelt were shimmering with what mortals would perceive as an ethereal luster. Her pale lavender hues would reflect the light of the cold winter sun as her gaze dropped to the object she so carefully cradled in her paws: a jar—one that appeared quite plain next to her figure, decorated with such expensive-looking accessories and garments—containing a translucent liquid, in which a single, well-preserved orb could be easily viewed as it floated aimlessly amidst the container's fluid contents. An eyeball—the iris still the very same beautiful and vivid red hue as it had been on that cold day in January, when she had stolen it away from its original owner. She had initially gifted it to her faithful attendant, and he had utilized it for his own purposes for a while, before finally returning it to her when he had found a solution to his own problem. Now, she treasured it, as both an exquisite keepsake and a bitter reminder of that wretched and deceitful child of misfortune who had betrayed her trust and gone back on the agreement they'd made all those years ago. Her trust was not something to be taken so lightly—anyone who thought so little of it deserved to be locked up in someplace deep in the earth where they could rot away in the darkness as regret consumed their body, their mind, their soul, working its way towards their core like a slow-moving poison.

"I should have murdered her entire family the day she came to see me..." the girl's gentle voice would leave her lips as a quiet murmur, no louder than the soothing trickle of a forest stream, as she continued to shift the object in her grasp; turning it on its side and viewing the contents from various angles through hooded, paper-thin eyelids. Where in the world had that candy-loving individual gone off to, after she'd passed on (if she recalled correctly, her relative had overexerted herself by using her Chain for something, and the strain had simply been too much for her mortal vessel to handle)? There was a rule that stated that what came from the Abyss would ultimately return to the depths, but it seemed that hadn't been the case for the eye's original possessor. Surely she would have known, being the realm's governess and all, as well as the Core's physical form. Had her soul gone off to that 'paradise' those other shadowclanners had believed in at the time, the Crystal Sea? Hah, her spiritual essence couldn't have made it to such a pure, untainted place, not when she had been responsible for the deaths of at least a hundred individuals—fathers, mothers, and even children—for the sake of getting her own family back. However, the strength of her desire to save her loved ones from their cursed fate and her tenacity had been quite impressive—yes, Mako would give her that at the very least.

"Those who come to the Abyss are all the same; they're all desperate to get something back. But everyone goes mad partway. It seems that being with my dear dolls—the Chains—is no good for them. But...you were different. You didn't lose yourself, not even at the end."

Those had been her own words, hadn't they? Those had been the very words that she had spoken, directed at the individual who at the time, had seemed so brave and gallant in her eyes. Yes, due to the fact that she was forever a child in mind and in spirit, it was only natural for her to love all those fairy tale heroes and their lovely happy endings, as clichéd as they were. It was understandable to her, the fact that others wanted endings like that for themselves as well. And no, she wouldn't call it selfish or immoral—such a desire was only natural in her eyes. However, to want results like that, one had to be willing to work for them—words alone meant nothing to her. Action was essential. See, that shadowclan general had been willing to literally go through Hell for the sake of achieving her goals, and that was something she could respect. That was why she had made it so those who wanted their wishes granted by her were required to go through the agonizing process of attaining a Chain so they could access her private chambers, and only if they made it that far would she even consider taking on their wishes as her own. Yet, never had one managed to reach her, to pass her 'trials', and she had begun to fear that she had overestimated those mortals that inhabited that place which then had seemed so full of possibilities and dreams and opportunities, that world where anything was possible through hard work. Therefore, when that person had arrived, she'd been quite ecstatic. She had wanted to reward her valiant efforts—that, was something that even now, she could say with absolute certainty. However...at the same time, Mako (or 'Alyss' at the time) had grown rather weary of merely observing everyone else in the sun, when she had still been trapped in darkness and isolation. What was worse still was the fact that she couldn't die, even if she so wished to. And so, in exchange for turning back the clock to a time when that person's family had been alive and well, she had demanded that the other find a way to release her from her own queendom. It had been fair, since she'd thought that surely a 'hero' like her, who had made it all the way down, would be more than capable of freeing her—a maiden in distress. But the world didn't work like that, and she had been forced to learn of that the hard way.

For betraying her expectations and not keeping her end of the bargain, she would never, ever forgive that individual who had made it to the depths, and shattered her idealised views, and turned her into this murderous, vengeful entity who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn. She'd made it so only those whose noble actions matched their words could reach her. But if that that femme had been the noblest the world had to offer, then it meant that something was clearly wrong. And to fix it, she would do anything and everything in her power—even if that meant destroying everything and starting from scratch—

Even if it meant she had to become one of those fairy tale villains she so detested with every fibre of her being.

She would fix this, and make it so that in the process, she would become the very first to live up to her own ideals. She would fix this wretched mess of a place, and the banal characters and their psychological problems by erasing them all (after all, she believed that no one deserved to live in a world as horrible as this; a world that had forced her dear sister to commit suicide to atone for the sin of those she had placed her faith in and had cared for so much). But first, she needed closure. First, she had to track down that person who had gotten her into this mess and force them to either finally fulfill their end of the bargain, or exact her revenge by dealing whatever punishment she deemed necessary for such a filthy, disgusting liar.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 490px; margin-top:-5px;][hr][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; margin-top: 0px; width: 430px; letter-spacing: 6px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 5px white; margin-bottom: -10px;][align=center]♔ [color=#c9b3ff]♔ ♔

she’d question softly, adopting a voice which contained an underlying tone of mock injury. “Did you perhaps see a ghost?” Inwardly, she complimented her wit and her flat-out hilarious sense of humour; goodness, how she loved her jokes. Perhaps no one else would understand them, but why in the world would she allow such a thing to bother her (after all, it was their loss, not hers)?

It only then occurred to her the odd way the servaline was clutching at her face, as though something was causing her pain. Surely, that couldn’t have anything to do with her, could it? She couldn’t possibly be that ugly. What she found even stranger was how she was covering the features on the left side of her visage—almost in a sort of protective fashion, she supposed one could say. What was she doing? Did she honestly think that she was going to hurt her, or perhaps tear out her eye—?

With that, her train of thought suddenly came to a jarring halt. The left side of her face—she was covering where her left eye would happen to be, wasn’t she? Of course, both of Tama’s eyes were perfectly fine—there had been nothing wrong with either of her two cobalt-hued oculars when she had last encountered her down in the ice caverns. However, perhaps this had to do with something else, perhaps with the object she currently cradled oh-so gently in her paws, like one would hold a young child as they rocked them to sleep. That, along with her pained expression...that meant something, didn’t it? There were no coincidences, at least not any that she believed in. When it came to matters regarding herself, the Abyss, the Baskervilles, or the Chains...everything happened for a reason, as random as some events or occurrences would seem. Besides, her instincts still had yet to fail her, and therefore there was no reason for her to begin doubting them now.

“...Tama-chan,” she began slowly while retaining her pleasant air, the volume of her voice dropping to one that seemed no louder than a faint whisper on an evening summer breeze. As she straightened her posture, the wrinkles and folds in her garment would smooth, cascading down her lithe back like a river of dark crimson—almost like blood. “Tell me: what does a promise mean to you?”

&& mobile and still in class atm; sorry for the shortness uvu
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she spoke gently, her voice dripping with false pity. "That's very cute... But do you really believe that, or is that something you tell others to deceive them into thinking that you're actually someone who keeps their word...? Lying to yourself is a lonely practice, I'll have you know." Listening to the pale serval as she lied herself into a corner...it left her filled with satisfaction, one so bitter that it was sickening. If only she'd kept her oath back then, if only she had granted her request and fulfilled her end of the bargain, then perhaps they wouldn't be in this situation. Some part of her truly didn't want this, and yet...she had to do this to prove her point. Because if she failed to live up to her own ideals, then just what in the world would that say about her?

Rising to her dainty paws, the femme would glide down the steps, across the frost-coated ground as a swan would over water, coming to a halt directly before the white serval. "If you're going to say you do keep your promises, then would that mean that you're finally ready to grant me my wish? Or will you, once again, fail to deliver?" Her words— although pleasant-sounding as ever—chilled the air, echoing eerily throughout the vicinity, which at the moment was virtually empty aside from herself and the blizzardclan leader. There was not a single soul to be found. Perhaps, Mako could have exacted her revenge now, but...she fancied herself to be a forgiving creature at times, and had therefore decided to offer the other one last chance to redeem herself on a whim. However, should she fail to give a satisfactory response...

Then there would be no way in Hell the Intention of the Abyss would allow her to leave this place unscathed.
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she giggled, raising a paw to her lips to quiet herself seconds after. ‘Clown’...that had been her dear sister’s way of addressing a certain relative they’d once known, wasn’t that right? How fitting it was, as in a way, this blizzardclan leader did somehow possess an uncanny resemblance to her, for reasons that were now quite obvious to her (and it seemed they were to Haruna, as well). But anyway...that aside, it seemed that Tama had been spared the worst of what she could have done. However, her patience was certainly not something to be tested so lightly—at least, not by any ordinary creatures. No, if one wished to oppose her and escape virtually unscathed, they would have to rival her in terms of influence, power, and they’d have to possess a mental fortitude that far exceeded her own. In all her years of existence, she’d only come across one capable of withstanding her wrath without a problem—though, much to her own relief and delight, that individual wasn’t here right now, nor did they particularly care as to what she did with her own time, so long as she didn’t bother or toy with anyone on their list of important persons or associates. And unfortunately...Tama was not on that list, at least as far as she could recall.

Admittedly her memory wasn’t stellar, but she could at least remember the things that were truly significant: such as everything that individual said, and the names of those who had wronged her in the past. After all...she was the Intention of the Abyss—a Queen, a Ruler of something far greater, of a realm that was far more vast—something paramount to all these inconsequential mortal establishments, which would one day perish and would eventually be reduced to nothing, as from the nothingness from which they all came. She, on the other hand, was eternal—regardless of whether she liked it or not. She would last forever and she would be around to see the end of the ages, as well as whatever bleak oblivion came after. And so, it went on. As for things like grudges—such trivial things should not have mattered to her in the slightest. However...again, she was supposed to be a luminary of sorts, and luminaries were meant to set examples for those who looked up to them, and/or came after. Just how in the world would others view her, if she simply allowed those who messed with her to get away with such crimes so easily? One couldn’t deny that she possessed an immense amount of power; but if she were to not use it at all, not even to help herself...that would be awfully pathetic, wouldn’t it? And of course, not to mention that regardless of her spiritual age, she was (and would always be) a child at heart. Children were easy to hurt, easy to break—far sensitive than they would ever be when they matured into adults. Children were selfish—hopelessly petty creatures. Most of those ‘child-like’ attributes tended to not be expressed so often as one grew older, and sometimes, they vanished all together. However, what would happen to an entity who aged in spirit, but in no other aspect?

Oh, she knew what the result was, and even after having seen her fair share of horror, she could still easily say that the result was anything but pretty.

What happened? Such a good question, that was. She ought to know the answer more than anyone else really, seeing as she was practically an embodiment of the question itself—the question that now had a very clear answer. When an individual remained in the same state of mind for centuries, surely they would acquire knowledge, and perhaps some wisdom as well. They would become highly intelligent, yet their childish traits would also continue to exist within them, and they would not be suppressed. Perhaps one could argue that eternal youth would be the key to happiness; after all, weren’t children easy to please, easy to entertain? But...no, that was so very wrong. Perhaps youth these days was sustainable, but that child-like innocence could only last for so long. It was a fleeting thing, impossible to retain forever, since one could only be shielded from the darkness of this wretched world for so long. Therefore...the answer, that was that such a case resulted in a child saddled with knowledge of things they could comprehend but were not mentally ready for, and ultimately, that led to them developing a warped personality—one much more twisted than any adult could possibly possess. And such beings would be virtually impossible to reason with when enraged, given that they still retained their childish pettiness and whimsicality—aspects of their personality that they knew existed, but had little control over. Because of this, that one could argue that creatures with this rare set of circumstances were much more dangerous and volatile than any of the countless older villains the world managed to churn out. Especially when they’d also been bestowed with powers that could rival even the most highly revered entities that had come before them.

It was then that Mako’s attention was fully returned to the blizzardclan leader. Carefully tilting her head to the side, sardonic amusement would tug gently at the corners of her mouth, her lip curling ever so slightly to reveal the glint of stark pearly whites—a smile that was all teeth and no hilarity—the smile that subtly implied that the wearer did not harbour any good intentions (at least, not for the individual currently standing in her direct line of vision). “So...even now, you stubbornly cling to the false reality you’ve built up around yourself...” Tama had not been able to prove that she had forgotten, which didn’t necessarily mean that she hadn’t either...but, you see, the Intention wasn’t like those kind creatures who preferred to give others the benefit of the doubt. “I take it that’s your final answer then. How unfortunate; how very disappointing...” She had expected so much more from her. However...it seemed as though her faith had been horribly misplaced.

“You know...maybe you did forget,” she mused aloud, adopting a somewhat thoughtful expression, “In that case, shall I offer you a proposal, obachan...?” Yet another light chuckle would leave her, as a thought suddenly surfaced within her rage-clouded mind. Haruna had already brought her revelation out into the open, so there wasn't much use in continuing to hide the fact that she knew whose soul currently resided in the form of the petite serval. “Say, why don't I help you...?” With that, Mako suddenly began inching even closer to the other, maintaining her expression of morbid delight and her frigid smile, stopping until they were literally inches apart. “Yes...I'll help you to remember. How does this sound: every time you reincarnate or switch bodies, I'll take your left eye away from you—I'll force you to relive the pain you felt on that day, over and over and over again, until you finally manage to recall its significance...” The femme suddenly drew back for a moment, releasing a silvery laugh as she twirled around once in elation. “Isn't that a grand proposal? I'm oh so kind, aren't I? It isn't even half of what you deserve.” Turning her head to face Tama once more, she would lightly pick her way back over to the serval and resume her previous position, as her lavender-hued gaze seemed to visibly darken with malice. “Also...do you know what else stealing your eyes would allow me to do? It would allow me to take out all the anger I have towards you—all the anger I've kept pent up inside of myself for the past century...so really, wouldn't be killing two birds with one stone...?” She was fairly certain that was the appropriate phrase—at least, it was from her perspective. Drawing in a quiet breath, she then continued, “And so, Tama, if you don't mind, I'd like to make one last request of you...” Her last statement was then punctuated with a slow raise of a single paw, as she gazed upon the face of her next intended victim, through eyes that were far too cold and cruel for her gentle features, which still—even now, in this suffocatingly tense moment—appeared to be brimming with youth.

“Accept my fury.”

Following that, was the swift and silent motion, of the Intention of the Abyss attempting to plunge her seemingly delicate white-capped paw into the leader's left eye socket, and forcibly yank the cobalt orb out of place...

Just as she had done with Candyfangs, all those years ago.
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&& shit this was long and took like five billion hours fucking hell. i'm gonna do a word count for this post (1,557 words long, not including the stuff in this fancypost or this little blurb at the ending lol), and there was probably a lot of grammatical and punctuation errors because i got super lazy in the middle of it rip my muse and my soul hhngh. anyway...the last bit of dialogue (c) narita ryohgo & ryuugamine mikado (from Durarara!!), and i've literally been wanting to use that line since like...2010 tbh omg.

ALSO: PLEASE WAIT FOR SELI TO RESPOND BECAUSE LACIE'S SUPPOSED TO COME IN RIGHT AFTER THIS (I THINK)? ONEECHAN CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG.
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[font=century gothic][b][font=georgia]AND I KNEW THAT SOMEHOW I WOULD FIND MY WAY BACK
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+ bumping again
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[font=century gothic][b][font=georgia]AND I KNEW THAT SOMEHOW I WOULD FIND MY WAY BACK
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