[ All those dumbs echoing, tumbling down a rabbit hole. The Hole: the empty void space where other Hosts kept disappearing in to. As void does, it had a hypnotic quality, repulsion and allure; a miserable, maddening, ringing absence. She was just dumb enough, to pour herself into someone who should have been a stranger. So desirous of the genuine taste of connection, despite all her protestations about the dangers of opening herself up and letting others push and pull at her, that she just kept doing it. Like she couldn't fucking stop herself.
Her bad habits have a way of justifying themselves: cunning and baffling in their self-sabotage against her. Play a game like it's just a little flirting, the kind of sweet talk that would normally be left to the imagination -- if they couldn't just share imaginations. ]
(I dunno how these other idiots stop themselves.)
[ Was the idea of anyone else knowing they were sexual creatures really that repulsive? At least a few people have her back when it came to need. November. Lakshmi. Shepard. Nyx. They live inside of her now, so fucking loud, so fucking good: all the hands and mouths and heat she could possibly need.
She can fill up some deadened space. She can scream and groan and toss her head. As much as a sad fuck could need. ]
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[ All those dumbs echoing, tumbling down a rabbit hole. The Hole: the empty void space where other Hosts kept disappearing in to. As void does, it had a hypnotic quality, repulsion and allure; a miserable, maddening, ringing absence. She was just dumb enough, to pour herself into someone who should have been a stranger. So desirous of the genuine taste of connection, despite all her protestations about the dangers of opening herself up and letting others push and pull at her, that she just kept doing it. Like she couldn't fucking stop herself.
Her bad habits have a way of justifying themselves: cunning and baffling in their self-sabotage against her. Play a game like it's just a little flirting, the kind of sweet talk that would normally be left to the imagination -- if they couldn't just share imaginations. ]
( I dunno how these other idiots stop themselves. )
[ Was the idea of anyone else knowing they were sexual creatures really that repulsive? At least a few people have her back when it came to need. November. Lakshmi. Shepard. Nyx. They live inside of her now, so fucking loud, so fucking good: all the hands and mouths and heat she could possibly need.
She can fill up some deadened space. She can scream and groan and toss her head. As much as a sad fuck could need. ]
( I got you. )