Post by sezja on Dec 1, 2011 19:08:21 GMT -8
October 2nd, 2011
12:13 am
12:13 am
"Nyet, nyet, nyet, nyet!" Sezja hurled yet another chair across the room, sending wood shavings and dust flying as it skid across the floor and smashed into her carving desk. Tears pouring from her crimson eyes, Sezja bore her fangs at the carving she'd been secretly making for Brigita and sent it flying into a nearby mirror, which shattered and then fell from the wall with a bang.
Instantly regretting the act (and feeling her rage and sorrow rise all the more for it), Sezja collapsed in the middle of the destroyed room and gathered up the pieces the statuette, now cloven in two, cutting her hands on broken glass in the process. The figure was of a Veela in a simple loose gown, dancing; the expression was one of complete transport and passion, and the face, if one looked hard enough, was Brigita's. It hadn't been long and Brigita was hardly warm toward her, but damn it, Sezja had begun to really like the chit. She couldn't help but admire her cold, unbreakable determination to survive and to keep fighting; and beneath the hard shell that she'd built around herself, Sezja hadn't failed to see the frightened and lonely child underneath. She was a beautiful girl, both inside and out, and she was gone.
"Nyet!" she yelled again, picking up one of her carving knives from the floor and hurling it at the doorway. It stuck firmly in the door jam. It was surprising, how strong the rage made her. But she didn't have time for that. She hadn't seen or heard from Brigita for almost two days now, and she'd just today heard from a customer that there'd been a pursuit and a fight nearby. She could only hope that Brigita was hiding out and hadn't been able to contact her. The alternative was torture, certainly, and death was almost as likely.
Also, if Brigita had been captured, then Sezja had been compromised. There were witnesses and documents aplenty that stated clearly that Sezja had claimed she was her daughter. There was no escaping from that one. Moving the two slaves that had been recovering from injuries in the shop on such short notice had been difficult, but SAVIOR had managed it. Now it was time to decide what she, Sezja Sokolova, was going to do.
She had two options. She could abandon the shop and flee to the safe house, thus declaring to the government that she was guilty beyond a doubt but also keeping herself out of Azkaban if they already figured as much. She could play the farce through to the end, filing a missing report on her daughter and hoping that Brigita's true identity hadn't been confirmed. She could, in theory, play dumb and then claim that Brigita had put her under an Imperius curse; but it was neither believable nor an acceptable option.
Sezja slumped, bowing her head so that her wild platinum blonde curls draped around her face, hiding the transformation of which she was so ashamed. Clenching her fists, her lengthened nails dug into her palm and made little cuts. All the while the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, letting her know that her time was fleeing fast.