'ᴡᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʙᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ.'
Only one month has passed in Daliah Viper's life trying to reintegrate at court and follow the uneasy trails her eyes have caught.
One month filled with blood, tribulations, and l...
-having a slim or delicate build : not stout or massive in body
-lacking in strength or substance
-deficient in importance: trivial
-to treat as slight or unimportant : make light of
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It's friday and I am tired of following the empty vessel of my cousin around like a drone. He doesn't acknowledge my existence, he keeps me out of his rooms, and I am restricted from any important meeting.
Yelling at henchman and servants loses the appeal fast. This day has started in a frustrating manner already. The animos mansion is too noisy, and I can't even shower without hearing their too-loud voices and screaming animals. Their dog's hair is everywhere, embedded in my coat when I pull on my shirt even beneath the flawless silver sink. I take my time for grooming, but with the noise, it turns into a frustrating task. Two hands in my hair, I push it back again, smoothing over any imperfection in the bright strands, combing it again, until I am sure I don't look as frustrated as I feel. Not that anyone would notice. I can pride myself with a perfectly attractive face and body, and even if my mind is my weapon, my body is my temple.
Fridays used to be my favorite days. Some were my glory days. Arena fights were a traditional activity every first friday. Now they are canceled for an unspecified amount of time.
My last one is only lying a month back. Before that, there is a small list of wins. Never defeated, though, and that means no one ever would dare to bet against me.
Just because of the boredom, and the slowly unfurling anger that builds inside my system with everyday I get canceled, shut off or send away, I want a fight. Preferably one to win. If it is a hard one, the better. I've had some rough ones, but as long as I win, it doesn't matter. And I always win.
The first was...exhilarating, but it was over pretty fast. After that, some stick out.
I think about a fight I had with a greenwarden, lashing out with vines ready to choke me grey until I lose consciousness. The one with the shiver, ready to split my skull with ice, the one with the magnetron. A few fights with physically gifted silvers, fast ones, strong ones. They cut through my armor, they smashed me into a wall, but in the end, they all lost to themselves. Although I never killed anyone as brutal as I did with the last one. Dragged into that provincial hole and forced to marry that widow, everything needed to be a little more clear, a little more brutal, just to set it off, to release some steam. To win in clear force.
I had an ongoing bet with another fighter once. He was a Swift. Not particularly interesting, but he was good. He was entertaining me. I didn't hurt anything that couldn't grow back under the touch of a skinhealer.
Not a friend. I don't do friends, for the most part. Some entertaining times are best kept in your brain, for yourself, especially if they involve closed doors.
