Two Eyes Cenote wheel & sling

Yippee!
personal flavor roll for lucidity: 12

Time was a funny thing in the bowels of the Blue Palace. In the furthest caverns, where light did not reach and the only sign of days passing was the drip, drip, drip of water from the stalactites, madness was a phantom that lurked around every corner, batting at wandering tails just out of sight.

Machiavelli was no exception.

There was a chill to the half-breed, anger and resentment built in icy waves towards all of the faces that warbled in and out of focus in his mind, both those that had left him to rot, and the one that refused to leave him at all.

I am already damaged, mazoi, Was the croak of laughter that echoed up the limestone walls, bratty and testing. Juno, Legend, Senmut. The fire would keep blazing until all that was left was ash and bone, and he had nothing left to possess. A dog unlovable but desirable, soon to be repulsive to all. There was comfort in the matted fur and bloodshot, bagged eyes. Comfort in the scabbed pads, and stench of wet decay. Powerful and uncooperative in this captive, wretched form.

I already told you, I was not a prince, I was a prophet, and I had been so for as long as I can recall, The dog replied haughtily. Although, I suppose I can't expect you to remember. He shifted, dragging one arm to cover his face, I did not think anyone could be as dense as they looked, but here you are, leaving me to stand corrected, Machi mumbled inaudibly into the crook of his arm.