Obsidian Residue

Summary: She's living up to her name, in every sense of the word.

Now I'm starting to ship this. Why did you get eaten Roman?

Silver.

It's the light
That slips around
Her form,
As she moves
In the dark.

She used to love it,
The way it
Made her glow;
Become more menacing
At night.

Before it swallowed her,
That is.
Enveloping her body
In an unending
Cyclone of pain.

Her body was caught
In fits,
For weeks afterwards.

It is beyond
Frustrating,
Feeling power
Coursing through her
Veins-

Cold in feeling,
Boiling over
With hunger

-One second,
And then an
Emptiness;
Centered in
Her left eye.

A weakness
That she couldn't afford.

And they seemed
To Multiply
Overnight.

Her vision,
Voice,
Being cared for
Like a small child.

If she were
A lesser being
She would scream
And rage at the world;
As it is,
She remains silent
Just not
Entirely by choice.

That laughter:
High-pitched,
Uninhibited;
It shatters
The silence of
Salem's Tower.

Day in
And day out.

Her skin crawls,
Fingers twitch
With the urge to
Snap his neck.

If she could
She would burn him
With her tongue,
If her voice worked
She could make his own
Stop.

In a mere second~
A snap of her fingers,
Just like when
Her companions misbehave.

They are the only ones
That answer to her, anymore.

He answers to Salem
The same as her,
Not her.

An entire army
Every criminal in Vale,
Black and white
Pieces played out
On her board.

She was the commander,
The puppeteer;
And they were pawns.

Having a mere two
Does nothing
To satisfy her.

While they are strong,
She wants what she had
Before "Little Red"
Destroyed so much
That she worked for.

Devoted her life to, really
But who's interested
In the details?

The way
She created sparks
With the tap
Of a heel,
A color that reflects
In his iris.

When his gaze
First strayed to the flames
And she found it
Oh so easy,
To hold;
That seems to be
When it started.

Salem still comes first,
But she is second
And that will sustain her
For now.

With a single movement
She can have him
Sucking and nibbling
At her skin-
He won't bite
Unless she tells him
-While her nails
Carve a path
Down his back.

Behind closed doors,
That is.

She slips
A leg
Over his hips,
And he places his hands
Where she wants them;
Or keeps them
Behind his back.

He could flip them
Whenever she enters
His room,
But he bends
To her whim
Instead.

And she never
Hands over
The reins.

It's funny, actually
That she~

A shattered bow
Reduced to ash,
A fallen goddess
Racing to her destiny
With one heel.

Can tame a man
Like him,
Even temporarily.

and...
she thinks,
it's because of that

That she has
Any control
Over him.

The simple fact
That no one else
Will have him.

Tyrian isn't mate material;
He is a weapon
Designed to kill,
Maim,
Seriously injure
Beyond sanity's imagination.

His mind isn't broken,
But a collection
Of sharp
Jagged edges
With a curved tongue.

She takes care
Not to forget that;
A beast
Drenched in blood
Swallowed by laughter,
Is not a pet.

He's a tool
And she intends
To use him
To his full potential.

Until she regains
What she lost.