Ostinato
Part Two, Chapter Four
Piper's presence is the overture that connects them all; a tendon attached to bones, using little force for movement like puppets under a master. A great deceiver at her deadliest when the puppeteer's unaware of her personal allure. The milky scent of corruption, the vanilla beans of salivation, the temptation to taste her laugh.
The prisoner, formerly a queen, wanted the girl all to herself. Underestimated the beguiling innocence that drilled a fracture between their companionship. A steel pin hammered into a glacier, fracturing them all.
Dark skin matched with an easy grin and soft eyes. Melted amber, not quite liquid gold. Not cold, metallic. Hot breath and small breasts and a pink tongue. The second master of crystals switches her melody to meet everyone's needs, echo the composition of their individual dreams by altering her tremulous pitch to join in dual harmony. Cyclonis runs her palms across Piper's sleek, skin-tight suit, her lips thinned into a perplexed twist of a smile, they personify the dual goddesses of the Greek stage. Thalia and Melpomene.
Comedy is a yellow ribbon, shiny in satin, bouncing through the black walls of Cyclonis' castle.
Little wonder the Dark Ace fucked her. Her best friend with good intentions, and the callous knight was a man of caprice. A sugary treat to savour. Eat the sweet after the salty. Fresh blood.
A man of music, he made her sing. He the bass notes, she the soprano. Stringing together like the leaning bow across the waxed bridge of an ebony violence. Not just the colour, but the wood too. Worked over and over, the lustrous varnish shone in the light a red-tinted crystal. The diagonal angle of their bodies against the rigid wall, the extended width of his legs and the obtuse degree of her tilted neck.
Harmony to their ears, dissonance to the rest.