Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
IMPRESSIONISTIC ART OF FLESH !
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
( kiss the stars for me tonight. )
—CIRCE WASN'T ALWAYS AN intractablefemale, unwilling to kneel before a man. Here's the thing with strong-willed women, they've had to endure the sexism, the patriarchal expectations, the cruel nature of covetous males. In order for them to reach this puissant position, they were once a passive child.... submissive and prone to abuse.
Six years old, Circe could press her feet against the pallid floors and pretend she was stepping on grass, the sage flooring beneath her potraying nature, and freedom. It was, of course, imaginary. Albeit to a little girl, her mind was her bestfriend ( though when asked, she'd tell you it was Mateo Pierce ).
She'd been wandering through Praesidium, exploring the lower levels of the establishment, hunting for illict areas and secret corners to bury herself in. Today she was allowed to rest, for tomorrow she had a day of stringent exams, where officials plagued her with test papers, and practical assessments. If she failed, if she made a single mistake, she would be killed.
There was alot of pressure on the shoulders of a kid.
She could press her palm against the bland walls, skip through the endless corridors, slip into whatever room she desired, and no one would say a word. No, they'd much rather turn a blind eye — no minor should have to endure the violence that would strike her if higher staff caught her being... well, a minor.
Administrators were busy. Locked away in a desolate room of importance, wrapping their hands around exploitation and squeezing all of it's use out. Their teeth were barbed, ready to devour the manipulated and consume guts, blood, and oozing organs.
They were ravenous for flesh.
Circe wondered what slipped their lips in that room, what was conversed, what was decided. Did her name hit the air? Were they proud? They had to be proud, since the day she left the warmth of her mothers womb, she'd worked and trained and followed their command obediently.
