genderbent pitch

genderbent // hartkins

A high-pitched squeal was apparently the greeting for Steph that Leah was going with that evening, rushing into the home that wasn’t even hers to run into whenever she wanted to - but, really, if Steph wanted privacy she shouldn’t have given Leah a key - and immediately tackling her on the couch. “I have the best news in the world. Clearly. Look how bright I’m smiling after a long day of sitting behind a desk doing nothing.” To emphasize her point, she gestured to her face, flashing a bright grin. “I’ve officially been given a… serious case. Not a boring divorce case or one of those weird ones about families fighting each other over blankets! This is a real murder case… which I shouldn’t be excited for, no one should be dead and this isn’t something to be this excited about, but… I am so excited,” she said, sitting up to bounce around in excitement. “… and now we have to celebrate with way too much alcohol.”

Queen of Shadows.

Delicately lithe fingers curled around the arm rest of a throne, grey flesh tainting white as annoyance was clear on her expression. Wrought with iron, the throne reached for the tall ceiling above her, as if the spiraling vines were actually growing. It was impossible, of course, considering that the underground palace was… well, underground.

Petrina was bored. And it was the type of boredom that only brought on a mood that worsened with each second passing. Fouler and fouler she became, her top lip rising in a slight snarl. And though she could think of many entertaining scenarios in her mind to ease her disdain, there was nothing in front of her. She yearned for people on their feet, begging her for mercy. Blood stained clothes and screams and death.

But that didn’t come. Instead, she was alone with her boredom, the occasional irritated sigh her only company in the otherwise silent room.