cold blood

Another bad dream. Again, when she woke, she was surrounded by drawn curtains and a loving husband.

This was happening too often lately. That wasn’t a good sign.

This time, as she staggered to the tub, she pulled the lotus blossom incense out of its space in the cupboard, and put the special snapdragons and blackberry scent as far into the back of it as she could.

She would rather deal with memories of Natah. The Lotus had a good reason to turn on everyone. Her sister really didn’t.

She looked up at the mirror and saw a tremendous fox-monster, with wild eyes and fangs the size of knives. She saw the tears in her reflection, and nodded at it in sympathy. This time, she hadn’t been awoken by what she had seen that was real, no. This time, the dream splintered. It was as if she, herself, wasn’t in control, and anything could happen. Like watching your DM play your own character as an NPC, there were too many variables. It was unlike anything she had experienced, and she didn’t like that at all.

This time, the bath bomb was a fiery red, shaped like a gear. She had made it herself, and tonight, she needed to drop all pretense and abandon her sister, just like Anya had abandoned her.

She hadn’t taken off the raiments of Shadow since her vision of Erra weeks ago. No matter what she went through, they seemed to stay pristine, and that would suit her just fine. She supposed that was why the reflection in the water stayed that of the werewolf with the despair in her eyes. She stared long into those eyes, searching for the whispers of the void.

When she dropped the bath bomb into the water, the reflection changed with the fizzing, angry red dye. The beast became a monster of another kind. A vicious face gazed back at her, covered in blood, with no eyes in their sockets so much as hollow, flickering points somewhere in the inky black depths. They pierced her with the baleful gaze of a destroyer, telling her everything she already knew. Her sister could be a very shitty person, who took what she wanted, and fuck everyone else. It had caused violence and strife before, and now it inevitably would again. Her twin could easily drive her to violence, either to defend or to destroy. She could taste the ash in her mouth again just thinking about it.

The bomb slowly faded into a bright purple color, tinging the water fuschia, and with it faded the visage in the water. Now, she saw the ex-goddess with the scars of an Earth that was. She also needed to remember that it was okay to leave her behind to chase greater things if she needed to, because circumstances change people. Her twin was power-hungry. She wanted vampirism at any cost, because she felt like she was shafted in the great spiritual roulette. She wanted godhood, at any cost, because she felt like she had been robbed. She wanted all of a foreign plane’s secrets, at any cost, because she was far from home and lost.

The water settled into an amaranthine broth, and the mirror on its surface settled on an anthropomorphic Zorua with troubled eyes. She couldn’t disparage her sister as badly as she may want to, because she saw both the highest high points and the lowest low points. She knew there was good in there, that Anya wasn’t just a neutral evil horrible bastard. When she really tried, she was a radiant soul who did her best to help people, even if she was loud about it. She was an excellent surgeon and a top-notch doctor, who wanted to see people smile through their music just like she did.

Christ, it was way easier to make a judgement call when it was Chandra.

The reflection faded back to normal, and she was left alone. Maybe it was a sign to steel herself for whatever may happen. Things looked bad, but she was only learning things through a rag tag group of 20-something weirdos that may or may not include Spongebob. Expect the worst, hope for the best, or something.

She lit up a dank nug.

This one would take some time to recover from.