[ some of us are the monsters. her eyes look past the wispy smoke coiling in the air, peers through that hazy fog kovacs hides within, and wonders are you one of them? a monster never reveals itself to be a monster behind its mask, does it? that paranoid beast living in her chest, gnawing away at her trust day by day, rears its head — this thing kirigan has awoken inside of her, always looking over her shoulder for the next blade of betrayal in her back.
the truth is as simple as it is terrifying: she no longer knows what monsters look like, can't discern if kovacs is among them, if any of the allies she's made here will turn on her just as quickly as they had turned toward her. she lives with that lesson embedded in her skin, a punishment for that naivety.
quickly, alina's fingers yank down on the cream-colored turtleneck she wears, unfurling the material down to her collarbone. it's a gory sight: jagged bits of white bone that protrude from scars sliced into her collarbone, the pointed tips of those antlers bursting through her shoulders, like a grotesque collar to keep her leashed to kirigan. a secret well-hidden beneath her clothing, one she doesn't suspect kovacs will feel the need to share, and one she doesn't expect to receive his pity for. ]
You think I haven't learned that? [ indignant at the injustice of wearing that permanent reminder in her flesh, the words grind out behind her teeth. he's right to remind if she's forgotten, even for a moment, the consequences of trusting too easily. ] I've met monsters already. Your warning is a bit too late.
cw for mild body horror i guess oops
the truth is as simple as it is terrifying: she no longer knows what monsters look like, can't discern if kovacs is among them, if any of the allies she's made here will turn on her just as quickly as they had turned toward her. she lives with that lesson embedded in her skin, a punishment for that naivety.
quickly, alina's fingers yank down on the cream-colored turtleneck she wears, unfurling the material down to her collarbone. it's a gory sight: jagged bits of white bone that protrude from scars sliced into her collarbone, the pointed tips of those antlers bursting through her shoulders, like a grotesque collar to keep her leashed to kirigan. a secret well-hidden beneath her clothing, one she doesn't suspect kovacs will feel the need to share, and one she doesn't expect to receive his pity for. ]
You think I haven't learned that? [ indignant at the injustice of wearing that permanent reminder in her flesh, the words grind out behind her teeth. he's right to remind if she's forgotten, even for a moment, the consequences of trusting too easily. ] I've met monsters already. Your warning is a bit too late.