He was but a subject to the Queen, but not. He was older than the Queen. Wiser. Colder. Harder. A Ten. Not a King, not even a Knight, but a Ten. Ten swords piercing his back -- the lowest of the low, the deadest of the dead.
Choice adds the final touches to the crown and sits back to look over his work. "Esto perpetua," he whispers. The image of sword and crown glows briefly, then fades. By the time Choice has cleaned and set aside his brush, the tattoo looks as if it had always been a part of Mary Anne's body for years. "Welcome to the family," he says as he steps to Ruin's side. "Our first Queen."
Ruin just waits, his eyes unblinking and focused entirely on her.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2006-09-14 01:35 am (UTC)Choice adds the final touches to the crown and sits back to look over his work. "Esto perpetua," he whispers. The image of sword and crown glows briefly, then fades. By the time Choice has cleaned and set aside his brush, the tattoo looks as if it had always been a part of Mary Anne's body for years. "Welcome to the family," he says as he steps to Ruin's side. "Our first Queen."
Ruin just waits, his eyes unblinking and focused entirely on her.