the otherside

for there are many ways to kill a man they say Bone cannot feel, and it takes some time for terrorized, split skin to register the fact that it’s leaking, bleeding down her face and neck in thick, sluggish rivulets. She’s dehydrated. Is that an odd thing to notice? Of course she is – and is the water here even safe to drink? It’s almost comical, the things which run through Wessex’s head in fog-covered bubbles, even when Tia presses her nose to the warrior’s own skin, does it seem somehow outside her body. This kind of experience is entirely unnatural to her, she is always present and grounded and not screaming in mind-numbing pain as her body speed-mutates (again). She’d never have made a scene like this before. She never will again. That is a promise the warrior woman can make to herself. Still, she does not know what happened, does not suspect that the Rift saw the mutant in her and laughed, played the devil’s imp and saw fit to expand on her imperfections. Mutant? You want to call yourself a Mutant?Then so be it. Cue evil laughter. Literally. Offers of healing and questions of her well-being come from Tia and Lena, causing Wessex to give them both blank stares (of course, she cannot see what has sprouted from the top of her skull, shearing off forelock and sending her horns sky-high), until Rikyn (hey, fuck you, Rikyn) starts laughing and tells her she has a nice hat. A hat? Her eyes narrow as she moves her head around and realizes that no, that’s not just a headache, that’s actual extra weight. “What the…” she murmurs to herself before reaching around to grab the shard of mirror she stole from the Basin. Casting it on the ground, she finds herself in its reflection, and her eyes grow to the size of saucers. She is a killing machine now. Her horns have nearly doubled in length, the ability to literally smash through things with her head gifted with devious twist. Yes, the thought that she is hideous, and now quite a monster runs through her head, but it is quickly followed by the thought that no one will fuck with her and hers now. No. One. “Mutant…” she says simply (fondly, even), not quite to herself, but not quite to anyone else, either. The corners of her gray lips turn upward into an unusually pleased smile. Yes. Oh yes - she could work with this. I am Iron and I Forge Myself

lines | color & coding

@Rikyn @Tiamat @Lena @Erebos