[ Again, she speaks of this Santa of hers, and again — anyone else might think the girl to be raving mad. But Edward has seen madness, intimately, known it himself. Even in death, the echoes of the screams in the sanitorium have never quite left him; if he was not fully mad before his family had their greatest shame committed and locked away, then his time in that place surely pushed him past the brink.
There is a possibility madness exists within the girl, as it does within many. But she is not only that. That is the difference. She is also something with mottle upon her skin; now that he sits across from her in some parody of propriety, a Hellish tea party with curls of green fog ghosting across the worn old headstones peeking up from the earth—
(“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give up,” Alice replied. “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter.)
—his eyes catch the mapping of blue to her cheek, further evidence that the girl with the buzzing in her head is something very different from the human, living souls who call him.
It's been a while since he became The Storyteller, but Mordrake slips into the role and smiles almost warmly, indulgent. He watches her peer closer, and he slowly reaches up to adjust his hat, placed at just the correct slope and angle to conceal his monstrosity. Not just yet— ]
Another's. As hideous as I am handsome. [ His smile stretches, wry; that is how the story goes, after all. He has heard it retold by the living many times, his legend. They mostly get it right. ]
As a living man, I was born cursed, you see. By a second soul — something not of the natural world, but Hellish. A demon's face mirroring my own. A living creature with... dark and vile desires. [ His performer's smile flinches, but only slightly. A faint tremour. ]
When I was staying in company of a sideshow, that was my... rather exotic moniker. The Two-Faced Prince. I would win the hearts of the crowds with my talents and charms, and then afterwards I would reveal the monster within the beloved prince.
....In death, the demon's hunger has only grown more terrible and more damaging, for it now feeds on the souls of the monstrous. The broken, the—... lost. My ilk. [ Here, another switch changes in Mordrake and he abruptly goes more solemn again, very serious. The story shifts with him into a warning, and he watches her intently. ]
Since I have been drawn to you, then you have caught Its attention. That is not to say that It would seek to harm you... but I cannot speak that for certain. You must know this of me, child.
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There is a possibility madness exists within the girl, as it does within many. But she is not only that. That is the difference. She is also something with mottle upon her skin; now that he sits across from her in some parody of propriety, a Hellish tea party with curls of green fog ghosting across the worn old headstones peeking up from the earth—
(“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give up,” Alice replied. “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter.)
—his eyes catch the mapping of blue to her cheek, further evidence that the girl with the buzzing in her head is something very different from the human, living souls who call him.
It's been a while since he became The Storyteller, but Mordrake slips into the role and smiles almost warmly, indulgent. He watches her peer closer, and he slowly reaches up to adjust his hat, placed at just the correct slope and angle to conceal his monstrosity. Not just yet— ]
Another's. As hideous as I am handsome. [ His smile stretches, wry; that is how the story goes, after all. He has heard it retold by the living many times, his legend. They mostly get it right. ]
As a living man, I was born cursed, you see. By a second soul — something not of the natural world, but Hellish. A demon's face mirroring my own. A living creature with... dark and vile desires. [ His performer's smile flinches, but only slightly. A faint tremour. ]
When I was staying in company of a sideshow, that was my... rather exotic moniker. The Two-Faced Prince. I would win the hearts of the crowds with my talents and charms, and then afterwards I would reveal the monster within the beloved prince.
....In death, the demon's hunger has only grown more terrible and more damaging, for it now feeds on the souls of the monstrous. The broken, the—... lost. My ilk. [ Here, another switch changes in Mordrake and he abruptly goes more solemn again, very serious. The story shifts with him into a warning, and he watches her intently. ]
Since I have been drawn to you, then you have caught Its attention. That is not to say that It would seek to harm you... but I cannot speak that for certain. You must know this of me, child.