Unwanted Guilt

Vriska hated Tavros. She hated him because he was so infuriatingly weak and unconfident. She hated how despite how hard she tried, she could not change his personality traits, and how he did not appreciate her efforts. She had challenged him, and encouraged him, in a futile attempt to strengthen him. Her efforts were wasted however, as ever obstacle she placed for him to overcome, he found some way to screw up. But she mostly hated him because, to her absolute horror and astonishment, she discovered that she was developing black feelings for him. Her emotions had already caused her to cripple the meek troll in a futile attempt at murder. She had shoved him off of a cliff during a intense roll-play session that they were playing together. And To her immense disappointment, he had not died. But instead lost the use of his legs. But now that Vriska had reached the god tier, she was positive that she could pull it off this time. With her new-found strength and abilities, she was going to kill Tavros. And end this possible kismesis-ship before it even started.

Vriska danced across the dark sky towards her target, leaving a shining, bright trail in her wake. She then glanced at Tavros, and saw him looking infuriated, and surprisingly confident. She smirked as she came to the conclusion that wishes feeling murderous as well, like he had a chance. She landed gracefully onto the cliff face upon which the other troll was standing. She fluttered her wings to stabilize herself, and to flaunt her new god-tier upgrades of course. Narrowing her eyes and gently flapping her blue wings, she bared her teeth victoriously as though the battle was already won. They stood several feet apart, wing gently blowing Vriska's orange costume. She pointed a finger at him, then gestured to the ground in a intimidating way to say, 'You are going to die'. Tavros simply glared back towards her, and swiped his finger across his throat in a gesture she thought to mean, 'How about you first?' This unusual display of unwavering confidence shocked Vriska, so she brought out something she knew would dent his composture. She whipped out his old legs, torn off after he was crippled. Rust colored blood leaked from their bases and pooled on the ground. And her face was the picture of outright insanity as she expected Tavros to drop to her feet and beg for his miserable life. She almost laughed at the sheer certainty of it all, but something in Tavros' eyes made her refrain from doing so. She saw fire in his eyes. His loss of his legs had always been a sore spot for him, so she expected it to weaken his spirit, and to renounce him to his usual self. But, instead of backing doing like Vriska expected, he became furious at the display of his former limbs. He yelled and charged at her with the jousting weapon he was so fond of. He seemed sure that he would beat Vriska, even with her powers. But Vriska smirked, and simply fluttered to the side using her new god tier wings, and she grabbed the lance out of his grasp. She then grinned hugely and impaled him through the torso. He stumbled backwards, brown blood flowing down his body. His face was priceless. Shocked, angry, confused, and hurt, all in one. Vriska smiles and pushes him off the cliff, feeling strangely nostalgic at the action. His eyes blank, and he falls motionlessly onto the ground far below. Vriska laughs maniacally and flys off whispering softly to herself,

"Fly, Pupa, fly..."

Only later did the prospect murder fully strike her. No problem, she thought to herself reassuringly, I have murdered thousands of other trolls, how could this feel any different? Good god, was she wrong. She felt immense guilt at her slaughter and she did not know why. It was quite possibly due to the fact that Tavros was the first troll she killed that she actually cared about. All of the others were killed only for a source of nourishment for her giant, spider lusus. She did not personally know any of her other victims. Nor did she have black feelings for them. She pounded the ground she sat upon with a quivering fist, why must she become weak now? She raged to herself. Right when her cold, ravenous demeanor was most necessary? She cradled her face with her hands, How could she fight Jack Noir now? He was already practically unstoppable, with the power of the Green Sun on his side. And if Vriska could not ruthlessly kill like before, if she became weak, even the tiniest amount of hope was dashed out. She tried to convince herself that what she felt was not grief, but her heart told her otherwise. Clenching her pointed teeth in frustration, she tried to force herself to feel great about the murdeFor and not just for herself, she needed to be strong for her friends too. How could she be a descendant of the great Marquise Spinneret Mindfang if she could not suck it up for a simple murder? She felt so confused and angry inside, fighting with her own emotions. And surprisingly, she suddenly needed a comforting presence. Somebody to hold her close and say that everything was alright. And she had never needed that before. She was raised only by her ever-hungry lusus, and the diary of her great ancestor, so nobody had ever really been there. She hesitantly picked up her phone and messaged somebody she knew would listen.

arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling ghostlyTrickster [GT]

AG: I n88d to t8ll you som8thing that I don't feel too gr8 about ::::( GT: What is it Vriska? AG: I just kill8d some8ody...