I HAVE BECOME DEATH
the destroyer of worlds
TAGGED: ... | WORDS: 987 | NOTES: ...
Mejai was entirely incorrect about her magic, for it could cause pain, but she had the ability to control that aspect of it. One thing about the decaying process that no one knew, was that it was, in fact, a painful process to go through. However, because the beast that was decaying was already dead, it would not be able to feel the excruciating sensation. She supposed, in that sense, that it was a blessing no one was able to feel the extensive pain of her magic. The only true time she had ever made it, so that someone was in agonizing want of true death, was during battles. Their faces as they distorted and contorted into looks of immeasurable pain was something that Marceline enjoyed. To see that helpless look on their face as they cried out from the agony at which her magic caused sent shivers down her spine.
Her eyes studied the other magus as he talked about her being in reports, which came to her as a surprise. What person had written reports on her? Or perhaps her destructiveness had reached that of news reports and the like? She didn't like the idea of being in the news, she didn't like the idea of being the center of attention when she just wanted to hide. After all, she was nothing, but a monster, and monsters were things that needed to die in order to not cause issues. Before long, a bounty would be over her head and Rune Knights, guildless mages, and the like would all be after her. Marcy found herself swallowing a lump down her throat and biting her lip in thought about the situation that would put her in. "Since when am I in reports, Mejai?" the woman inquired, tilting her head a little out of the curiosity that took hold of her.
Her eyebrows scrunched together when he answered her about his leching earlier on, frowning at his answer. "I saw you earlier, you were that old man, no? Why do you do that to all of the young women?" she questioned him now. "Why not just walk about in our natural state? What harm would come to you if they saw what you truly looked like?" He was a man she didn't full understand, especially with the nature of his magic and his attitude toward people as a whole. Since she had come here, she had been nothing, but a sort of experiment toward the man and it frustrated her. Mejai saw her as a thing rather than a human being, something he could test and learn more about her magic. Marceline didn't like that idea of being tested on and questioned things that she likely would not be able to answer.
Following after the young mage, the woman glanced away from his backside to look around at the open space that led from the door. Wind brushed up against her, but because of her body's lack of feeling, she did not feel the touch of the breeze. It did, however, play with her hair, twisting and turning it around in the air, then released it to flop back against her backside and over her shoulders. Marceline reached upward and brushed the hair out of her face, taking another look at her new surroundings before glancing back at Mejai. The look of the grassy area intrigued her, a testing area that didn't exactly look like a testing area in her mind. Of course, Marcy had never been in such confines before and could only make estranged guesses at what a laboratory looked like. Because of her magic, she couldn't really read up on what those kind of things were; in fact, she never touched a book in her life.
Despite her magic wanting to overwhelm the place, Marcy found that not even a single blade of grass had been killed. She didn't know the answer behind this situation, but she had a feeling it had something to do with Mejai's workings. Again, Marceline found herself looking around at the environment, and how beautiful it actually looked to her. Reaching down, the woman touched the blades of grass and found that not even her Midas' Touch killed them off. This excited her. She could touch things without accidentally killing them off and she smiled at the thought of it. Instead of following the magus any farther into the laboratory, the woman sat down in the fluffy grass and played with it. Having not been able to play outdoors in centuries, the woman found herself engulfed in childhood memories before she died.
An overwhelming sensation of happiness enveloped her and she found herself fighting back tears she hadn't shed in centuries. The last time she had ever truly cried? The day that her life had been taken from her and her inability to ever see her family again. Mejai spoke though and she looked up from where she sat, staring at the magus with curious, fiery dots in her eyes. Slowly, the woman dusted herself off and stood back to her feet, looking to Dubhlainn for a second as the mage spoke. Her eyes darted toward Sanson and she wondered what it was that he was planning on using against her. For a moment, fear sparked through her body, but it was a feeling she didn't understand enough to recognize. Marceline looked to Dubhlainn again, waiting to see what he would do with how Mejai was acting toward her.
"H-huh? Why does he have to stand next to me? What are you going to do to me?" Marceline ordered from the magus She did not want anything to be doe to her that would result in injuries and the way he said it, made her fear. "You keep your dirty paws away from me! Or so God help me, I'll make sure your bones are the last thing you see."