<b>Re: Under the Glass Moon [MarxistPanda, xWickedBlackLace, Ve</b><br/><br/>Often, she wondered how a woman of her percision and power could let herself be a product of this humiliation. Deep footsteps pounded on the concrete as he barged the room, another softer padding could be heard along with the upkeep of the woman's steps. The rather large male shoved her violently, back into the cage beside her friend. The backlash of the gesture draped her waiste-length hair lightly in a rich brown web across her face. She was known for being particularly rebellious and fussy, so her hands were bound by chains. Looking up, she didn't question him this time. She wanted him to just accept her obedience and let her sleep for the night. This time, he didn't speak. He gave her a look of warning that told her if she ever tried to escape again, she wouldn't survive. Then he exited the room as though his silence was enough. It was. He wasn't a pleasant master.<br/><br/>Sybil's serpentine gaze darted up to the glowing moonlight peering into the dark space, a slow sigh escaping her lips as her skin grew cold as marble in the pale light. For her, however, it was extremely dangerous. The chill of the night was rather uncomfortable. The lack of sunlight often left her weak and weary, a sort of deficiancy she was sure the others were blissfully unaware of. She didn't tell anybody on purpose, however. Drawing attention to such a weakness meant it would be used against her. It was only a matter of time before it was irreversable, and she would fall into a deep sleep never to awaken. It may have been completely sadistic to be thinking in such a manner, but the very thought toyed idly with her deep red lips.<br/><br/>The Serpente's supple curves were seductive. Her only clothing was a black material, draping over the areas that were more private. The paleness of her skin was very much revealed through the thin material. So much of her body was revealed, which gave way to some other things he could have done to her. It was no longer sacred, she was his toy. Not to this degree, but she was used to being desired, albeit protected. Another thing she wasn't used to, was the object symbolizing her bounds. Lazily, a hand reached up and draped over the collar around her neck. A small snarl nearly forming on her lips, due to her particular distaste for the thing.<br/><br/>Back in her home town of Aeneid she had been sort of a seductress, sumutaneously a revered prophetess. Not quite royalty, but treated as such. No man wanted to see her complete a task that could very well ruin her ideal image of a woman's body, much less the visions she recieved on a daily basis. One of her guards had decieved her and bargained her to the carnival, possibly faking her death to the rest of the villiage. To them she'd have been more valuable than any sort of currency. She hadn't lost her powers, but she'd been stuck in this negative space for longer than she had intended too. The attempted escapes had gotten her into more trouble than she cared for. But right now, as a prophetess, her head began to pound. It wasn't pounding with information, but it was pounding with some sort of vague warning.<br/><br/>"Something...is awry..." she said, wrapping her arms around her body attempting to keep warm. It was an impossible task at the moment. In her voice, there was a tremble. She was shivering. Unhealthy, even. "It's...something."