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Post by Gabriel on Apr 15, 2009 15:02:29 GMT 9.5
She stood. Limping slightly upon her injured foot. Her dark blues, switching their focus often. The colour of storm clouds approaching. Wide open and anxious. Her nude lips, soft and without cracks. Unpolishd by lipstick. Her deliacte bodice, petite and thin boned. Her long, lean legs strutted down the dark pathway. Her bare feet striking the damp stone surface of the concrete. Her feet. Rough and bleeding although she felt little pain.
Her straw coloured hair billowed roughly around her dial and features were framed by the short, tatty bangs. The rags of her clothes clung to her corpse like a shadow. Dangling by just a thread. Faded over time and stained brown from the dirt. Her pale skin illuminating against the contrasting darknss of the nights sky. She was on her way to the pub. To loosen up and meet new creatures. She didn't fit in with human beings. It was a good thing they were dead for she was an angel. A heavenly, angelic angel. Who never wished evil upon anyone.
As she strolled down the lane the bushes to her left roughled. Brushing the sharp branches that were their fingers upon her flesh. Drawing thin scratches to her legs. Blood soon begin to fall. A noise caught her aud and she turned sharply. Her eyes wide in anticipation. A stench filled her nares and she nervously trembled. What was it that was out to get her?
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Post by assassin on Apr 15, 2009 20:40:48 GMT 9.5
With careful, pre-thought out steps he showed himseld to the girl. Pulling his corps eout directly before her slight bodice he towered above her. HIs obvious strength visible. Strutting around the nervous heaven seeker he chuckled aloud. His confidence oozing from his aurora. The evilness his black sould possesed was evident in the way his lip curled into a satisfied smirk. Here was a young, daughter free from her family. Yet oh, so alone.
His clothes, a crimson cape. Billowing from the tie around his nape. The knee high boots that blocked the chill. He glanced at the bitch, no warmth was offered. Only the tatters of what once was clothes. Her bare feet. Blue with cold. Limply standing upon the pavement. He didn't care for the welfare of others.
The night time darkness engulfed the pair and a welcoming silence parted the two. His smooth, melodic vocals filled the atmosphere. Over confident and meant to drop her confidence level. He meant no harm. He only lusted the power to control her fear.
m'dear. Why so alone?
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Post by Gabriel on Apr 15, 2009 21:20:28 GMT 9.5
As the figure stepped in her path. Blocking her way to saftey. Angered and yet no showing the emotion. She stood dumbly. Glancing at the shaowy mountain before her. His clothes expensive and attractive. Looked so different to hers. The warmth for his corpse so close to hers was welcoming. Her shivers, uncontrolable. The vibrations of her petite bodice shaking with the chills was noticeable. The deliacte enamels chattered between her precious lips. The nude colouring turned pale. The flush on her cheeks caused by the icyness of the soft breeze blowing.
Her blonde her streaming in her visage and her features young and innocent. She looked like the perfect target for some malice from a devil. The demon sent from sata lost no opportunity to taunt. Having seen the erratic, quick movements and sensed the fear in her actions he pounced. His chords drawing her closer to him. But for a unforgiven reason she pulled away. At once the shovers returning.
Her own lyrics flowed from the tender lips of the angel. Filling the pathway leading to the pub. She hoped they would touch the sensitive drums of the demon and he'd let her go. To trail into the heat of the pub. To drink her sorrows away.
Alone you say? I'm simply here for a drink.
With a shake of her dial, her long gold hair hanging limply at her shoulders. Lengthened strands around her lower back. Her sparkling eyes shone with mischief as she slowly, delibertly moved her barrel closer. In an attept to push her way past.
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Post by assassin on Apr 18, 2009 11:19:25 GMT 9.5
As the bodice entered his space. His personal box. He shuddered. The thought of a heaven seeker. The touch of her porcelin skin. The hint of the angelic ways. Pretty though she was she was unwelcome. He would not lay a rough hand upon the delicate skin. He would leave a dark spot upon her papers. He would not brand her with his label. As the carcase of the dove brushed agaist his masculin chest. He flicnched. Stepping backwards quickly. Sharply if you may. Pulling his figure from her. Allowing her the passage way through to the door. Enabling her leave should she wish.
A smirk played meanicingly upon his dial. His features rough and daunting to the fae. His lips. Tipped with stubble. Half gone but regrowing. The p of dark hair shook as he spoke once more. The vocals the same Dull, lit up by the smooth, drawing tone. Monotonous and overly confident. Asserting and mighty.
Well, dollface. What says you, accept a drink from a man?
He believed he possesed a nobel quality. Proud, a man to be obeyed. He didn't simply ask, he demanded. Never settling for less then the best. This dove was good. A pity she was wasted on the likes of the angel's. The pathetic nymphs and childish fairies. oh yes, what would of hapened should she have been born dark. With the same evil soul he showed.
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