Ruin, the Ten of Swords (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ten_of_swords) wrote2006-09-12 09:31 pm
ten_of_swords) wrote2006-09-12 09:31 pm
(no subject)
He had thought to let Moon retrieve her.
Just meet them at the castle--
(castle... what respectable anthropomorphic personification lives in a damn castle with battlements? None, that's what I say...)
but Moon had given him a Look before she went off to prepare things at home. Choice would be doing the actual deed. Only the Major Arcana could, and Choice made sense. Hell, Choice always made sense.
Now, he stood outside M16, wearing loose trousers and a tunic--
(gods of the multiverse, I look like a debauched poet whose been at the absinthe too long, what the hell was Moon thinking -- oh, yeah, that's right, she DOESN'T...)
--hand poised over the door. This wasn't something he'd personally done for centuries. He hadn't even been there when Sorrow or Misery were created. The only card's creation he'd ever bothered to be present at was his own. He was sure Mary Anne was expecting something painful, but Ruin didn't remember pain. All he remembered, really, was the loss of his humanity. Of course, to be what he was, the Ten of Swords, humanity was a hindrance, not an asset. For Mary Anne, just like Sorrow, it would be a positive attribute.
Ruin takes a deep breath and knocks three times, swiftly, schooling his features into an expression of disinterest.
Just meet them at the castle--
(castle... what respectable anthropomorphic personification lives in a damn castle with battlements? None, that's what I say...)
but Moon had given him a Look before she went off to prepare things at home. Choice would be doing the actual deed. Only the Major Arcana could, and Choice made sense. Hell, Choice always made sense.
Now, he stood outside M16, wearing loose trousers and a tunic--
(gods of the multiverse, I look like a debauched poet whose been at the absinthe too long, what the hell was Moon thinking -- oh, yeah, that's right, she DOESN'T...)
--hand poised over the door. This wasn't something he'd personally done for centuries. He hadn't even been there when Sorrow or Misery were created. The only card's creation he'd ever bothered to be present at was his own. He was sure Mary Anne was expecting something painful, but Ruin didn't remember pain. All he remembered, really, was the loss of his humanity. Of course, to be what he was, the Ten of Swords, humanity was a hindrance, not an asset. For Mary Anne, just like Sorrow, it would be a positive attribute.
Ruin takes a deep breath and knocks three times, swiftly, schooling his features into an expression of disinterest.
no subject
As they enter the bar he stops and impulsively kisses her.
"You sure? Mary Anne," he says, looking into her eyes. "It can't be undone. You have to be sure. You..." Ruin sighs, looks away then back at her. "I don't want you to hate me for doing this. Hate me for what I did to Gorlim, hate me for all I've done and will do to various sentients, but this? You can't hate me for this. I can't have you do that."
(can't have you be like her... get it then hate me for giving it to you...)