13, 38, 22

[fearful_symmetry]

#13 - Death

Before she ever knew of Gaia or the Nyota-Jaama, of the wonders and horrors that populated the skin and bones and breath of the world, of the rituals that bound it all together in a thrumming network of creation and deconstruction, Linette St. Paul knew how to honor a kill.  There is ceremony in it, a mantra recited endlessly from the birth of a stillborn sibling to the burble of blood between an opponent's lips:

"That could have been me.  But it wasn't.  Praise God."


#38 - Gift

It is the first of many, but the only freely given.  A clever pupil needs no verbal instruction.  A clever pupil waits, and watches, and teases out the secrets of her heritage through keen observation and cutting insight.

But even the cleverest of pupils cannot watch her own nose, and Caroline has never met anyone so prone to taking hits to the face as her erstwhile kit.

"Here," she grasps Linette's chin between thumb and forefinger, leaning in to lick the split skin between her eyes. "I have a feeling you'll get plenty of use out of this one."


#22 - Jealousy

"--my eldest son, Tobias, and my youngest, Matthew."

Comments

[nobodys-watson.livejournal.com]

God, huh? Which one? Either way, guess Linette St. Paul's God is listening, because despite her best efforts, she's still here. *little smirk*

[burning-bryghte.livejournal.com]

Eh...*shrugs awkwardly* I find I still swear by the Virgin Mother and the Sacrificed God. Comes of being in one too many foxholes, I suppose, but that particular prayer was from, you know, before.

[nobodys-watson.livejournal.com]

I know. Probably why I fall back on my own gods. Can't ever get away from being human originally, but then I don't think Seline would want us to.

Maybe the story of before is one you should tell one of these days. You'd have at least one set of ears for it.