[Weeks after the Exalt Oracle had been claimed, in the middle of a perfect, lovely day, one in which it might seem nothing could go wrong at all... Someone is screaming.
With no warning, no build, the equivalent of a sudden desperate, panicked pounding at the door, an attempt at Communion comes slamming into Liem's psyche. There are no actual words, no plea for help in anything but a jumbled, inarticulate, weak longing for it, but stronger is the vicious shame, the fear, the blame, the rage, rage brighter than a blazing sun ready to flare.
An eye, sickly green, dangles between gloved fingers, but then it is a stormy grey eye, dangling by the slick and severed optic nerve between bloody fingers in the rubble of a city under siege. Pain deep in the skull spreading, spreading, something that should never be touched flayed raw and pulled out, on fire at every ending, the glint of a scalpel sharp in the overbright light. A young jinba covered in blood and viscera smiles eerily, holding out a freshly cut slice of liver in offer as if it hadn't just been ripped from the half-butchered human on the table. There are sharp teeth smiling sadistically, shadows caressing soft over skin in contrast with the pain that makes her want to vomit. Liem's arms, wrapping hesitantly around her waist, his cheeks hot and wet where he buries his face in her chest, but then the wet isn't tears it's blood, even hotter, crimson, bright and smeared around his lips. Blood on the fingers that pull out of the hole where an eye once was, blood in her mouth as she tries to bite through her tongue. Ropes, straps, no matter how much she struggles she can't move, she can't fight, no, no, no, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it and it doesn't matter, it hurts, it hurts෴
mid-Iqnu (cw: torture, eye things)
With no warning, no build, the equivalent of a sudden desperate, panicked pounding at the door, an attempt at Communion comes slamming into Liem's psyche. There are no actual words, no plea for help in anything but a jumbled, inarticulate, weak longing for it, but stronger is the vicious shame, the fear, the blame, the rage, rage brighter than a blazing sun ready to flare.
An eye, sickly green, dangles between gloved fingers, but then it is a stormy grey eye, dangling by the slick and severed optic nerve between bloody fingers in the rubble of a city under siege. Pain deep in the skull spreading, spreading, something that should never be touched flayed raw and pulled out, on fire at every ending, the glint of a scalpel sharp in the overbright light. A young jinba covered in blood and viscera smiles eerily, holding out a freshly cut slice of liver in offer as if it hadn't just been ripped from the half-butchered human on the table. There are sharp teeth smiling sadistically, shadows caressing soft over skin in contrast with the pain that makes her want to vomit. Liem's arms, wrapping hesitantly around her waist, his cheeks hot and wet where he buries his face in her chest, but then the wet isn't tears it's blood, even hotter, crimson, bright and smeared around his lips. Blood on the fingers that pull out of the hole where an eye once was, blood in her mouth as she tries to bite through her tongue. Ropes, straps, no matter how much she struggles she can't move, she can't fight, no, no, no, she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it and it doesn't matter, it hurts, it hurts෴
And then there's nothing.]