"Dear Princess..." They mutter a moment after he's done just the worst thing?
"You've defeated me?" They ask, questioning, a moment before their upper half tumbles over backwards off of their lower half. There's a soft thud, followed by another and a gentle burbling as they, like the first three monsters, dissolve into nothing more than a stain in the dirt.
There's the mixed scents of copper, wet sand, ashes, and roses that rises up from what's left of them.
And then only silence.
An awful, oppressive silence.
There's no witty "What a splendid strike!" that follows up to break the silence. No sudden revelation that they are not, in fact, dead.
no subject
"Dear Princess..." They mutter a moment after he's done just the worst thing?
"You've defeated me?" They ask, questioning, a moment before their upper half tumbles over backwards off of their lower half. There's a soft thud, followed by another and a gentle burbling as they, like the first three monsters, dissolve into nothing more than a stain in the dirt.
There's the mixed scents of copper, wet sand, ashes, and roses that rises up from what's left of them.
And then only silence.
An awful, oppressive silence.
There's no witty "What a splendid strike!" that follows up to break the silence. No sudden revelation that they are not, in fact, dead.
Because they are, in fact, dead.