LunarLich
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Nothing had changed. She was still a corpse unable to die. Elster would not tiptoe into the room to check if she was alright. There was no hum of the engine propelling her further into deep space. This was all eternity was willing to give her.
Ariane wakes up on a crashed Penrose alone.
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Stasis keeps Ariane from the death she needs, and on a darkened Penrose-512, she witnesses the arrival of a nebula.
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Marika tiptoed carefully as she stepped on to the dirt path that formed naturally from the years of children playing and men and women working to provide for their families. Only the sound of alders swaying in the wind and the songs of wrens and thrushes provided a musical identity to the village, and even her hushed breathing served as a cacophony. She was an out of place resident of a village that held no villagers—a strip of black paint across a portrait of pinks and yellows.
Queen Marika says goodbye to her homeland.
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Coldness took over their face as they sat themself down at his side. Tervantias was physically larger than them, and the metal components comprising of most of his body caused them only minor struggle to pull him on to his back. He gave no resistance, and when their eyes met, they saw only the face of a hopeless creature. A whimpering wolf as the gaping wound slowly killing it became shelter for the starving rabbit.
The Rogue Trader becomes master over the master fleshcrafter.
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The Rogue Trader hums, paying no mind to his explanation as their dry lips reach up to the obsidian rivets jutting from his flesh like piercings. They have seen one of his other pets—a Drukhari far too skittish to be of use anywhere other than the vivisection table—target the tender flesh around the rivets with a knife to hear him produce the loveliest sound they have never gotten to hear before. To listen to the pained falterings of one far away is one, insignificant, thing, but to have their archmachinator breathe shallow, anguished breaths hot against their ear is a happening they can’t risk not having to cherish forever in their mind.
The Rogue Trader develops a curious taste for their abuser's blood.
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