She had decided on someone to kill--a striking brunette with pretty tits and whisky colored eyes when something...shifted.
Something that hurt. Something that reminded her of the fun she had as a fledgling, watching Da slaughter the pigs or put down a lame horse. Something that brought back the sharp childhood memories of a switch to her backside because she'd gone out and eaten one of the sheep again just to hear the bones crunch in her strong metal teeth.
Something that reminded Katie of what she was...that she'd been born broken. Even by the standards of the dragons.
Snarling to herself, she picks up her glass, slams back the last of her whisky, turns on her stool to get up and take her kill--
--when she looks out the bar window and sees her. The woman her chosen kill is a cheap facsimile of, dark as night and pale as the moon and all but glowing with the electricity that runs through her veins.
The reason she'd been so on edge since she got here. The reason she craved blood. The thing so massive, so debilitating, so bloody important she'd made herself not think of it, so forcibly not think of it that the act almost became forgetting.
Except Katie couldn't forget the name that was soldered onto her gleaming metal bones now, the eyes that were the color of the dark she saw behind closed eyelids in the night...the arms that had driven her to her knees and kept her there.
The hole she thought to fill with blood is now full of Emi, and Katie can't move or even breathe under the weight of it--too afraid she's hallucinating, too afraid she'll melt into nothing if Katie moves the wrong way.
So she stands, she stares--she wills Emi to just turn her head to the left so she'll see Katie through the low-lit window.
no subject
Something that hurt. Something that reminded her of the fun she had as a fledgling, watching Da slaughter the pigs or put down a lame horse. Something that brought back the sharp childhood memories of a switch to her backside because she'd gone out and eaten one of the sheep again just to hear the bones crunch in her strong metal teeth.
Something that reminded Katie of what she was...that she'd been born broken. Even by the standards of the dragons.
Snarling to herself, she picks up her glass, slams back the last of her whisky, turns on her stool to get up and take her kill--
--when she looks out the bar window and sees her. The woman her chosen kill is a cheap facsimile of, dark as night and pale as the moon and all but glowing with the electricity that runs through her veins.
The reason she'd been so on edge since she got here. The reason she craved blood. The thing so massive, so debilitating, so bloody important she'd made herself not think of it, so forcibly not think of it that the act almost became forgetting.
Except Katie couldn't forget the name that was soldered onto her gleaming metal bones now, the eyes that were the color of the dark she saw behind closed eyelids in the night...the arms that had driven her to her knees and kept her there.
The hole she thought to fill with blood is now full of Emi, and Katie can't move or even breathe under the weight of it--too afraid she's hallucinating, too afraid she'll melt into nothing if Katie moves the wrong way.
So she stands, she stares--she wills Emi to just turn her head to the left so she'll see Katie through the low-lit window.