08-21-2018, 04:48 PM
19. burning + what is y/c most passionate about? Why?
Desdemona dug through their things. They were all asleep right now, so she could do what she pleased without consequences. It wasn’t like they’d remember now. She didn’t really like the rest of them- Dagon was trying to tell her that’d she would adjust eventually. She… felt different than the others. She didn’t care about Dimitri and especially didn’t care about his wellbeing like the others. She was not sure why she felt that way, she just knew she felt unbridled hate for the others- really had yet to find the purpose, either.
She stepped onto Daisy’s desk, looking down at her different paintings of nature and the group of them. She found an ugly painting of Dimitri with green grass and a few flowers. [b]“This will go first...” She smiled lightly, putting it down by the door. [b]“This next,” She said, taking one of Donovan’s bottles of Chocolate Roses and throwing it with the artwork. [b]“One object from everyone.” She took one of Dakotas books, one of Delta’s battle plans, a harness from Darby, a whiskey bottle of Dagon’s, one of Dimitri’s blankets, a board game from Divertimento… and she was pretty sure that was everyone.
She put everything in Dimitri’s blanket and dragged it outside, down the porch, and to the area outside the cabin. She started ripping pages out of the book, crumbling them and littering them in the pile, then dumping the whiskey and perfume. She scavenged about the camp, digging around for an igniters. Finally finding a box of matches, shapeshifting an arm to light them, and throw it into the pile, the fire erupting as she watched their things burn.
Desdemona dug through their things. They were all asleep right now, so she could do what she pleased without consequences. It wasn’t like they’d remember now. She didn’t really like the rest of them- Dagon was trying to tell her that’d she would adjust eventually. She… felt different than the others. She didn’t care about Dimitri and especially didn’t care about his wellbeing like the others. She was not sure why she felt that way, she just knew she felt unbridled hate for the others- really had yet to find the purpose, either.
She stepped onto Daisy’s desk, looking down at her different paintings of nature and the group of them. She found an ugly painting of Dimitri with green grass and a few flowers. [b]“This will go first...” She smiled lightly, putting it down by the door. [b]“This next,” She said, taking one of Donovan’s bottles of Chocolate Roses and throwing it with the artwork. [b]“One object from everyone.” She took one of Dakotas books, one of Delta’s battle plans, a harness from Darby, a whiskey bottle of Dagon’s, one of Dimitri’s blankets, a board game from Divertimento… and she was pretty sure that was everyone.
She put everything in Dimitri’s blanket and dragged it outside, down the porch, and to the area outside the cabin. She started ripping pages out of the book, crumbling them and littering them in the pile, then dumping the whiskey and perfume. She scavenged about the camp, digging around for an igniters. Finally finding a box of matches, shapeshifting an arm to light them, and throw it into the pile, the fire erupting as she watched their things burn.