Shub Niggurath (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blackgoat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2018-12-31 03:25 pm
blackgoat) wrote in nexus_crossings2018-12-31 03:25 pm
GOATS
"Do you have children?"
The voice seemed to come before the lady, as if the question summoned her, rather than was actually spoken.
Small, demure in appearance, lovely in a way that quickly extended itself into the realm of disquieting. She seemed doll like, unliving and not quite made of flesh.
Little hands resting on a heavily pregnant belly, the woman draped in heavy Victorian dresses of stone grays, off whites and dull sky blues, with that porcelain skin and wild snow white hair, she'd almost look like she was trying to blend into the snow.
"If you do not, do you want them?"
Ah, so it was her speaking, the voice soft and sweet, if... off, in an odd way. A tone that crept up the spine and settled into the neck and base of the skull, like cold fingers pressed against the nape.
The voice seemed to come before the lady, as if the question summoned her, rather than was actually spoken.
Small, demure in appearance, lovely in a way that quickly extended itself into the realm of disquieting. She seemed doll like, unliving and not quite made of flesh.
Little hands resting on a heavily pregnant belly, the woman draped in heavy Victorian dresses of stone grays, off whites and dull sky blues, with that porcelain skin and wild snow white hair, she'd almost look like she was trying to blend into the snow.
"If you do not, do you want them?"
Ah, so it was her speaking, the voice soft and sweet, if... off, in an odd way. A tone that crept up the spine and settled into the neck and base of the skull, like cold fingers pressed against the nape.
no subject
"I ask again: were you given the chance and ability, would you take it? Or does the morality of society direct your choices?"
no subject
And yet... those words do cause the rebel in him to stir. And they bring up visions of his work continuing, of another generation of brilliance or, at least, diligence in the fight to save humanity from itself. He can actually imagine himself a father.
"I..." He swallows, hard. "Yes," he breathes. "I would."
no subject
"Then, so I shall bless you.
Give me time, child. I will restore you in time."
no subject
Moreover, that tense sensation leaves him and the blood is no longer rushing in his ears.
"Time," he murmurs, still entranced. "Of course." A beat. "What can I do to thank you?"
A dangerous question, to be sure.