i don't want to watch the world end with someone else | eden
Mar 31, 2022 9:58:23 GMT -5
Post by alex 🐺 on Mar 31, 2022 9:58:23 GMT -5
E C H O
L E R O U XThe scent of death is sweet. Almost like candy. Or maybe rotting waste. The thought comes to her in a flash as she covers her mouth, taking the steps two at a time. It didn’t smell like blood down here—blood’s far too sour and acrid. Echo knew these smells as well as she knew the scent of her mother’s favorite shawl, even if it had been a two lifetimes ago since she had breathed it in. She knew the smell of sweat and dirt like it was her perfume for the first fifteen years of her life.
Now she smells like gardenias and peonies. Like silk sheets and leather. Like cigarette smoke and vodka.
Like Emerson Le Roux.
Eden had been carried off the stage by Eurydice’s hired fucking hands and thrown into the dungeons and Echo had spent the better part of four hours trying to convince one of them (the weakest - there was always a weak one; this one enjoyed his drink too much) where exactly Eden was being held.
She was sure there was some sort of punishment that would come out of all of this. For her or for Eden, she wasn’t sure. Maybe both of them. Maybe Steel. Eurydice twisted the knife despite holding only a wineglass, never a weapon. She moved the pieces despite never sitting at the table. It was all shadow and intrigue and Echo was used to it by now, but it still made her sick to her stomach.
After all, Eden was only a Le Roux when he could be used as a replacement. A call to glory long gone. Save that, he was nothing.
And now nothing rots in a dank cave that wasn’t even fit for the rats that ran along the walls.
Drip.Drip.Drip.
“You know, this is an upgrade from Shadow Cat’s,” she observes from the dark, lines of light breaking across her face, the other half in shadow. She reaches out to grab a bar of the cell but glances behind her where the guard had been standing moments before. He was long gone with a fresh bottle to nurse during the long night shift. Her fingers curl in on themselves, grasping air and not her brother's hand.
She feels combustion in her chest—storm clouds raging against thunder in a torrential downpour that scratches at her throat and makes her eyes shine glossy. She hopes it won't show in the dim light.
They had been safe. They were safe. And this—this misguided rebellion could ruin everything. They could end up on the street, which wasn't even the worst part.
They could lose each other and Echo feared that in losing Eden, she would lose herself, bit by bit and piece by piece.
Clearing her throat and curling her hands into fists, Echo takes a few deep breaths, knuckles knocking against the steel of the cell's doors.
“You wanna tell me how we’re gonna get out of this one? Let Eurydice throw her fit and then free you in a few days? Who do you think is more patient, brother—you or her? I’m not sure where I would place my bets this time.”*thread title courtesy of clinton kane