city_limits Tick-Tock...
Time did not pass here, in the same way as it did on the mortal plain. In many ways, it did not even pass, at all. this was not a realm of linear progression, nor any sort of logic, as contemporary human science would perceive it. The Abyss was hunger, the Abyss was thirst, the Abyss was torment and... So very, very alone.

But not the Bride of Leviathan, her likeness perched in contortionist's comfort, upon one designated throne of countless many. A fluidic representation of the self, forming and reforming in waves of blended relaxation, moving to the rhythm of an endlessly recycled chorus of agony, echoing all around it. An essence both shielded and constantly blessed by the same entity which had seen fit to take her, so very long ago.

And yet, while time might not exist, there was an ebbing... A sense of proximity to something, creeping ever closer to the appointed task at hand. In a place where the supping of one's own marrow from aged bones could be considered and all too brief luxury, the Corruptress remained at her post. Sitting. Waiting. No plea to be unleashed, no yapping barks or hopeful prayers. Lady Elfleda, as some did know her, was miraculously peaceful. Her appetite stirred, oh yes, but there was a power to be gained by silence, if not solitude. Her nearest designated task would come, soon enough and through its enacting, a new form of order would be built.

Elfleda knew there were absolutes. She numbered herself amongst them. Absolutes, certainties and mechanisms, by now hopelessly locked. Not a twitch, not a spasm, not a single, inclined reflex... She had waited long and would do so, again.

Leviathan chose its betrothed wisely. Elfleda's poisons would prove no less ineffectual than ever and she would serve well as this executioner's blade.

Tick-tock... Tick-tock... Tick-tock...