Mental Link;

[miscreant]

DEVOUR beg for mercy and i will deny you	ASSIMILATE the scourge will wash over this world
LEAD we do what the living cannot	WANDER your kind has no place in this realm

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[miscreant]

[It hurts to move. She knows now that she went too far, in allowing herself to be goaded. She remembers cornering the Darkling in that room, open -- it should have been easy, if he kept up his end up the bargain. But he hadn't. He wanted her fury, pulling it from her and weaved it to his own devices. It bothers some part of her -- something distant, a feeling she can't summon again past the ache of her limbs as she carries his weight back.

Eventually, she makes it to the Nesting Deck, pausing only briefly when she feels the tug from Murphy's pod again, before she allows herself to be lead to the nearest unoccupied set. Shaking off her own headache is impossible, and the hunger in her stomach dares to summon tears to her eyes that she stubbornly blinks back even as it burns her vision.

Once she lays him to rest, hooking him up with fingers locked up in resistance, she sits back against the wall to try and regain herself. Were she living, she'd be wrought with fever, no doubt unable to catch her breath and on the verge of vomiting. Nothing felt worse than the hunger at its peak, so nearly impossible to resist. It had been years since she had been brought so close -- she'd always fed long before it had been allowed to be so unbearable.

Like a starving animal, she crawls to another pod to hook herself up before she loses her self control again. Even once she manages to hook herself in, even as the calm forces its way into her skull and her blood, her hands continue to shake for a time.

And there she will sit, until Darkling rises and she is able to scold him properly.]