[He can feel the changes in him happening -- the space where his personality usually lies being quickly replaced by the minder's, adjusted to fit Hysminai's needs. Marlon walks into the room where he finds her, eyes narrowed and puzzled, trying to fit in some of that concern that feels so out of place. It feels demeaning, even, when felt towards a deity has never shown him weakness. That's part of what made him so terrified of her in the beginning and what turned him into a blindly devoted hound -- the certainty that she wouldn't change, the certainty that she would always be more powerful than he ever could be. And her infuriated hissing only makes her look desperate.
Marlon makes his way, lowering himself down to one knee in front of the couch, searching her with questioning eyes. There is someone else's blood on his bruised hands; his lip is split and a mark gains color on his jaw. It takes him another moment to begin. His tone changes when he speaks her name.]
... Beside them Hysminai incarnate onward pressed yelling, and from their limbs streamed blood and sweat.
no subject
Marlon makes his way, lowering himself down to one knee in front of the couch, searching her with questioning eyes. There is someone else's blood on his bruised hands; his lip is split and a mark gains color on his jaw. It takes him another moment to begin. His tone changes when he speaks her name.]
... Beside them Hysminai incarnate onward pressed yelling, and from their limbs streamed blood and sweat.