Tanith is sitting in her favorite chair. It is wooden, stiff and what would usually be considered uncomfortable in the extreme. Its twin is on the other side of the room.
She quite likes it.
She is sharpening her sword, blade screeching in a way that most would call bone-chilling and distinctly unpleasant. It's a nice sound, in her ears. It's got memories attached to it.
However, to the individual seated across from her, the chair is hateful, the sound is freakish, and the look of content on her face entirely malevolent.
"I swear, Tanith, you love that sword more than you love me."
"Look who's talking, Billy-Ray. You love your straight razor more than you love your girlfriend."
"The straight razor's a part of my soul, darling."
"And the sword is part of mine."
A/N: Tanguine...
You're all going to hate me now, yeah? XD
~Mademise Morte, January 10