flowers of flesh and blood
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Jun 10, 2016 15:52:48 GMT
Post by lilith on Jun 10, 2016 15:52:48 GMT
The grandfather clock's heavy tok echoed in the humid, emerald-curtained parlor. Lilith watched the pendulum swing like a cat, curling her gaze around the antique Victorian device. The petite woman sat on her burly armchair. In her right hand, she held a goblet of warm red wine. It stained her lips and her tongue. Her dusty, dim lair was very comfortable. Lilith did not mind the heat. Absentmindedly, her fingers curled a strand of her hair, and she closed her eyes.
"I despise waiting like this," she thought. Lulled by the comfort of her home, she listened to the pulse of her time piece. Her consciousness loosened, a dangerous habit. But boredom, and worse, the darkness of her age-old struggle, lurked at her feet. Lilith's mind must wander, never stagnate, never dwell.
Her breathing softened. Her mind became a light mist. The cup of wine slowly slipped from her hand and clattered upon the wooden floor. She could hear them all as if they were pieces of herself, humanity so vulnerable as it slept. Innumerable and indiscernable, like the pebbles of a river bed or grains of sand upon a beach, she walked among them like a spider. Lilith knelt down and picked up a marble of a dream, squeezing it between her fingers to enter the haze of another's unreality. "Got you," she whispered with a haughty smirk and wide eyes. The mists of unreality spun furiously around her, lifting up her hair and her robe. |
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oh yeah i'm a reaper man every good thing, i kill it dead.
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Post by yami on Jun 11, 2016 2:52:43 GMT
 Rarely did Yami have coherent dreams. There were smells, tastes, and sounds but nothing truly visible and therefore it was unimportant. At times he didn't dream at all, or dreamt of something and could not remember any of it when he woke up. He always dismissed dreams because they were significantly dull in regards to what others had on their minds. He simply had nothing interesting to dream about. Well... not until now at least. Annoyingly enough, Yami was a uproarious sleeper — he snores, he shifts, he grunts, he scratches at himself all while in the throes of slumber. And you'd think there'd be something of particular interest on his mind. No, not really.
He had been taking refuge in this abandoned warehouse, and slept fitfully under the cover of darkness, curled into himself to retain warmth. He dreamed of a cold place, his feet kicking up snow as he trudged through it. The air was frigid and he saw his breath turn to mist as it left his lips; yet he felt no chill. It was an endless field and he wandered. Not looking for anything, not a goal in sight... he marches on nevertheless as snow flakes rest on his broad shoulders. Yami knows this place. He had hatched here.
Hyperborea.
The Northern lights shine balefully on his marred face. Green, yellow, blue. He turns his head and is met with a woman, but for now he holds his tongue. He watches Lilith with glowing lanterns for eyes, pupils slitted.
He'd wait for her to make the first word, and every muscle underneath taut and dry skin tenses on the pretense to pounce upon her.
lilith
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flowers of flesh and blood
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Jun 11, 2016 16:15:08 GMT
Post by lilith on Jun 11, 2016 16:15:08 GMT
Her dark cloaks fluttered around her. This was the wind of the high north. Lilith must have grown careless to enter a dream where there was no where to hide or to stalk. The tundra was a barren field of rocks and lichen. She returned the cold glare of the man before. She looked into his eyes and she guessed his age - old but not as old as her. The lights played on the whiteness of the ground, kissing it with its ghostly pastels. Distantly above, the innumerable stars bled.
She collected herself, her ancient charm weedling its way into her demeanor. From beneath the folds of her cloak, she held out her slim hand. "My dear, you are a long way from home, aren't you?" You are not human. She could only assume he was from the stars, like her. yami
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oh yeah i'm a reaper man every good thing, i kill it dead.
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Jun 16, 2016 16:20:28 GMT
Post by yami on Jun 16, 2016 16:20:28 GMT
His mind has trouble placing her face. And thus Yami realizes that… he did not know her. Suddenly feeling threatened by the unfamiliar face, his body prickles uneasily, his shoulders raising and claws unsheathing. He backs away from her outstretched hand nervously, baring his fangs at her defensively. Usually he wasn’t like this but he could sense something was off about this woman. She was much older than his aching bones and she emitted something darker than the power he loved to openly seek out.
Yami hisses softly, crouching low and his body stiffening instinctively. “Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be.” A long way from home? Earth was his home as far as he knew. Was there a deeper meaning behind such a sultry voice?
“Who are you?”
lilith
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