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Summary: Written for the tth100. Drabbles featuring Illyria and various people that she encounter.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Angel-CenteredCeliaFR153769052,52526 Oct 058 Jan 06No

Physical Weakness

Title: Physical Weakness

Author: Celia311 (celia_311@yahoo.com)

Rated: Um, a bit icky...

Disclaimer: Oh, I own everything, didn't you know? Actually I only own my insane muse and she's merciless and penniless.

Challenge: tth100

Prompt: 006 - Blood

Comment: Can also be read here - http://www.livejournal.com/users/celia311/6747.html#cutid1


*****

She had, of course, seen it before. Having dealings with the lowly race of humans tended to expose you to unpleasantness of all kinds.

Sometimes clinging to them with its smell and substance. Even staining the world around them with liquid stains that soon formed sticky patches on the earth.

She had tasted it once. It wasn’t a bad texture to have on the tounge and the taste was something that she could tolerate, however it didn’t give her the same nourishment that she had been told that the vampires found in it.

Yes, she had seen blood before, it was nothing new, except that it was. Previously it had never been hers.

She didn’t quite know how to deal with it. Switching form to that of the shell didn’t change the fact that she had bleeding cuts on her body. Quickly switching back she discovered that it hadn’t helped. She still bled.

She didn’t know where the others was, they had gotten separated and with them went her only source of explanations for how things worked in this new and horrible world order.

Seeking refuge wasn’t so much as a choice as an instinct, as was the transformation back to the appearance of the shell.

She loathed the feeling of being weak and somehow it seemed that she was getting weaker by the minute.

She wasn’t walking anymore; she was sitting, slumping, defeated. How she detested the humans and how they had forced her into this existence.

*****

Visible cuts and bruises continued to sluggishly bleed, causing alarm in the people who found the body of a frail young woman.

Female voices urging for action and male voices arguing did nothing to draw any reactions from Illyria.

Then something glowed.

Snapping her eyes open she stared into a pair of brown eyes wide with shock.

Glancing down she caught a glimpse of a faint silver handprint on her stomach before returning strength granted instinct to switch her into the superior form.
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