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 Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2019 10:42 am
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 ❛I do not fear death.
I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born,
And had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.
"How do I know you’re not the killer?” she asked.
“Because you would’ve been the first victim."❜
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I'm feeling intrigued. || I'm speaking to Alva. || I'm wearing feminine casual || I have $200 on me and $800 stashed in the bank. || I have feelings for no one.
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Hellish eyes met eyes of pale white, one where not a single light was present, whereas the other was the combination of every colour in the spectrum of the rainbow. It has always been a stark contrast between the duo that stood on separate ends of the spectrum, like night and like day. Irises of crimson softened into an eerie and disconcerting calmness, like the stilled waves of the ocean, like the sudden pause of the gentle ocean breeze.
Like the calm before the storm.
But as always their gaze held not a single hint of emotion, lacking fear, lacking the sense of danger, unlike the eyes of others whom laid eyes on the hellish being. With them, Iris smelled fear. She saw the shrinking of their pupils, the quick aversion of their gaze, or the way they’d purposely take a long detour than to pass by the likes of her that smelled of grief and mourning, of lost tormented souls. That reeked heavily of murder and death. But here, their gaze met her own in a gentleness that was genuine, laced faintly with swirls of worry and concern. A quiet breath escaped her lips, where cold fingers that ressembled those of a corpse gently grazed across the light coloured lashes of their bottom lid, brushing against her skin like the soft leaves of a bamboo tree, like the small, white petals of a dandelion.
”Your eyes are pure.” she paused, ”Bright like heaven’s gate,” like clear polished windows, like the still waters of a clear lake, like the round orb of a white jade. ”It makes me wonder what your pretty gaze see when they fall upon me.” had they saw a sinful creature with bloodied hands? Had they saw the vengeful hands constantly strangled against her neck? Had they heard muffled cries and moans of pain? Or was the hell-hound just another passer-by in a vast ocean of blurred faces?
Another breath of eerie gentleness escaped her lips, half surprised and half amused that the thought of her so much as lingered within their mind. But what surprised her, was that she knew it wasn’t of dislike, but rather.. of mere curiosity alone. They were curious, and so was she. ”What do you consider well? Well does not settle with a being such I.” how should she define well? The whispers never left her, neither had the cryings, but perhaps in a place where the screamings were quieted and calmed by a heavenly presence, where grief, torment and anger were non-existent:
“Are you....well?"
”I am now.”
But Iris could feel their presence still, lingering a fair distance behind her, but they were quietly watching, with eyes of curiosity, of wonder, of.. worship. The air was silent, with the sound of roaring thunder and heavy rainfall drowned out by the sound of their quiet breathing, feeling not the cold air that once pricked against her skin like needles, but instead the warmth of their body, and the slow rise and fall of their calm breathing. "I am glad to be able bring you peace.” the answer was met with silence, as her fingers simply followed the outline of the discolouration upon their bruised, pale skin. Peace was uneventful. Peace was boring. But this one, she did not find unrepulsive. This one was curious. This one was strange. Unique.
Her expression hardened, this time met with words spoken in a round-about manner, only briefly speaking of its cause, contradicting the straightforward answers the hell-hound received the other day. Her expression hardened, dissatisfied with their answer. The gentle tracing of her fingers stopped, hellish eyes meeting eyes of pure white that ressembles the blooming of water lilies. ”What” caused this.” she asked again, there was a light quiver in her voice, ”Who caused this.”this time laced with a hint of malicity that was not directed to the heavenly creature, but instead to its cause. Of what, of whom, had did it. The creation was not meant to be hurt, a perfect sculpture that was both the hell-hound’s chaotic downfall, and the utmost salvation.
They were a treasure, and she’d damn those that dared laid a finger on something so.. precious.
"You are...different.” they murmured. ”As are you.” she paused, ”All but my shell has changed, Alva.” she answered.
They were both eeriely the same, yet also strikingly different, and like the opposite ends of the magnet, the hell-hound found herself drawn to the heavenly creature by waves of curiosity, ans confusion. As was her companion. But their movement broke her out of the trance her mind was trapped in, forcing her back into the atmosphere of sheer tranquility and peace when warm fingertips traced against her skin. Their touch was gentle, healing, and Iris moved her free hand, pressing her -now- smaller palm against their own, stopping them short of the spreading warmth, like the slow heat of a fire. Or like a slow spreading plague of comfort that ran through each curves and corners of her slender body.
”I like getting hurt.” and though the answer was strange, her eyes that flickered wih sheer excitement had spoke of all but the truth. ”It makes me feel alive.”
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Posted: Tue Feb 19, 2019 12:19 am
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Location: Home ♚ Company: Iris ♚ Money: $1000♚ Attire: [In Pic] ♚ Relationship Status: Single
"Be at peace please.."
♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
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Alva didn't mind the soft touches of the being above them. The tingles left behind by the clash of darkness and light that always made their skin tingle. It was as though the void of death was reaching out to them as it always did, but it was not there to try and claim that which it could never hold...no it was a gentle touch. Alva wondered what it would be like if they were like the others. Alva wondered if they would look upon the hellhound with fear, or joy if they had the same mind as the others did. It was a sin. There was no doubt that it. It was a sin that Alva took willingly, because the simulacra could not feel anything from the hellhound but a compulsion. An inversion of themselves that they could not help but be drawn towards. Alva wondered why, but knew there was no true answer.
"I just see you." the creature answered directly without an ounce of hesitation, or a jump of any sort. Perhaps words like that might have caused others pause for any number of reason and yet for Alva it was just a natural statement. They just saw Iris and that was true, even despite the curiosity. It was Iris they thought of and not the many crimes. They didn't think about the fact that Iris was technically their enemy, nor that the blood on their hands possibly demanded retribution.
They just thought of the curious figure they met in the bar. They saw the tainted creature who treated them with peace and care. What else was there so see but who a person was? How they presented themselves? And how they bared their souls to you?
The thing tilted its head a bit at the hell hounds bemusement with their question. The thing nodded their head, not feeling a need to clarify what they meant because they knew that they already could figure. The simulacra gently rubbed her thumb along Iris's wrist still looking for anything fresh before drawing their gaze back to the dark's of Iris's own.
The gates of heaven meeting the opening of hell "So long as you are well. That is all that matters." she answered glad that Iris seemed to understand. Alva did not look deeply into their mind, but they could already tell it was bothered mostly. If their presence brought peace then that was all that mattered. A temporary peace was better than prolonged pain. They were happy to provide. Alva let go of Iris's wrist finding no wounds to heal, none that they would believe the hell-hound wished healed.
”What” caused this.”
"I did."
Of course Alva themselves did know the name, but they sensed that the hell hound might cause suffering. They refused to speak the name of someone who needed their service even if it offended Iris. It was what they were for. It was their purpose. It wasn't hard to learn in truth as it had already been knows, but Alva refused to put even them in danger and even more importantly...give Iris an excuse to harm another. To taint themselves further. To find themselves in trouble with more weight on their conscience. They thought more of Iris than they did themselves and so Alva only shook their head in refusal to speak an answer to such a question.
Alva held the hand of Iris, palm to palm as they continued to stare into their eyes. Cold. Warm. The sensation of contact was almost as wild and strange as Alva could imagine. It didn't hurt, nor did it bother them. It spread, and receded as if the two forces were fighting, minding and trying to find a balance. A slow dance in the rain within a quiet room. The feel of their breath gently washing over them. They listened to Iris's breathing, drowning out the rain and dull roars outside. They two should not have been so close and yet here they were in a strange embrace devoid of anything but need and desire to know.
”I like getting hurt.”
"Why?"
”It makes me feel alive.”
"Are there no better ways to feel alive?"
It was an honest question, but perhaps they were not so far off. Alva gently moved their hand from Iris's but only slid it, allowed Iris to peel down their sleeve to reveal those bandaged arms. They were clean, as fair as Alva's skin was when away from the obvious blemishes the wounds caused. The eternal wounds that clung to their skin so long as life was held within "I do not like pain." the "angel" spoke "However I cannot feel it anymore. I still recall it however, and its sting. I never liked the pain..." of course it was only fair to reveal their own issue, their own vice.
"The deep connection of a personal, primal embrace. One of the last sensations I have left. Its the only thing no one can take from me. Its the only thing that makes me...mortal." they whispered quietly. They wondered if that might have been a surprise, or perhaps disgusting to Iris. It was one of the few things Alva could truly take joy in to remind themselves that they did have something inside of them. The only thing these curses of theirs afforded.
Once it was said they looked towards their kitchen "Are you hungry? I can make us something to eat. I have not eaten in some time....I forget." the pure creature offered finally dropping their brush upon their carpet. It strained a few of the strands red, the last color they had dragged it across. A stain that would be hard to remove if left too long...if Alva even minded it.
♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
"...I'll take all the pain for you. Now and until the end. "
Ooc:
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Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2019 11:16 am
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❛I do not fear death.
I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born,
And had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.
"How do I know you’re not the killer?” she asked.
“Because you would’ve been the first victim."❜
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I'm feeling intrigued. || I'm speaking to Alva. || I'm wearing feminine casual || I have $200 on me and $800 stashed in the bank. || I have feelings for no one.
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"I just see you." stripped bare of her sins and the hands tainted with unneccessary blood shed, of the vengeful whispers that spoke of the horrible deeds she had done, of the death she has brought about: forcefully, unexpectedly. "I just see you." not of the mask she wore, nor of the deceiving smile hiding her true motives, not the way she carry herself, their false, her twisted beliefs, nor of the views of her through another person’s eyes. There was no murderer, there was no danger. There was only her.
"I just see you." they saw all but dark tresses of raven, of skin pale like snow, yet inked with patterns of black. They saw piercings of silver hung upon their earlobes, of piercings upon their eyebrow, and one latched upon lips of cherry red. They saw only what she decided to show them right then and there, only a woman who was curious, and confused. Only a woman who was simply a mirror image of them, belonging to the other end of a spectrum. A hellish creature protective of a heavenly creation, as though the harm that befell them belonged to her own, as though the bruises upon their body was her own.
"So long as you are well. That is all that matters." but would she be well once the night fell and a curtain of darkness blanketed over the skies of navy blue, of pitch black lit only by the occasional crack of lightning? Would the whispers stay quiet then, allowing her to hear only the rainfall, or the steady sound of the rise and fall of their chest, the quiet breath escaping their lips that had burned into the depths of her own mind? Or perhaps the whispers would return, latching upon her ankle as though trying to drag her to where they were, where hands found themselves wrapped around the skin of her neck, like shackles bound onto her body.
”They are quiet in your presence. Watching. Curious of you, as am I.” and if their eyes had been flames, it’d have bore holes through the hell-hound’s body. But they were quietly watching, lips sealed not by force, but instead sealed with peace, with comfort. Their eyes were wide, wanting to approach, yet kept at a fair distance. They were.. worshipping the heavenly creature. Worshipping peace. Worshipping salvation. ”But I wonder if it’d stay quiet should I leave your side. Perhaps.. I am well only in your presence.” their watchful gaze fell upon Alva’s fingers that gently ran their thumb against her bruised wrist, in search of something to heal, yet there were none, despite the growing discolouration. It was a pain she desired, worn like a trophy. Wounds made her feel alive.
But the warmth left her body in a near instance, drained and flushed like the spinning waters of a whirlpool, now left only with a sense of bitterness, frustration, and.. anger. This time, at the heavenly creature. ”Why!” her hands balled into a fist, slamming down against the soft cushion of their pale coloured couch. Her fangs bared, and like a ticking time bomb, she was set off, but at the crack of thunder, and the way vengeful words clawed against the back of her mind, Iris found herself at a pause. At loss. What had been a habit to strike at her free-will, the hell-hound found herself for once, hesitating. ”Why.” she paused, knowing the exact reason. Her fingers rested against their throat, feeling her nails digging against their skin, yet it was gentle. She was vile, violent, yet with them she was always gentle. She could only be gentle. ”What’s wrong with purging this world of filth. Isn’t it fine? They are but another troubled soul in this world. Do you-” she paused once more, this time removing her hand, and instead cupped their cheek, rubbing her thumb against their bruise in a gentle circular movement. A hand that had only caused harm, this time offering a touch that wanted to heal. Iris could not be true to her nature within their company. It was as though they were yin and yang, their good balancing out her evil. Leaving her with all but.. emptiness. Leaving her feet stuck in a grey spot.
”Do you think my methods are vile? Have I finally struck you disgusting?” she asked, ”But they laid their hands on you. On my favourite heavenly perfection. I am not wrong.”
They shook their head, and for once Iris felt disappointment. Not in the heavenly creature, but at themselves, and the feeling of what felt like rejection, by the one being the hell-hound almost worshipped. By the one being she felt was on par with her. Their hand held onto her, feeling the smoothness of their palm pressed against her own. Crimson orbs dimmed, void of the malicity it once held, nearly softening, yet as though refusing to be overrun, her mind held onto the last bit of her growing insanity.
”I like getting hurt.”
"Why?"
”It makes me feel alive.”
"Are there no better ways to feel alive?"
”What better way to feel alive than pain?” crimson orbs gleamed, a stark contrast to her scleras of pitch black, like a void, like a black hole that reeked of death, of anguish. ”What better way to feel alive than to bleed? To feel. What better way to be alive knowing you could die?” but despite so, the hell-hound was immune to death. Drifting from one rotting body to the other, her soul would seek a new vessel, seeping into a new born seconds before their birth, or simply taking the body of a dying soul. They would begin a new life then, stuck in an endless cycle of life and death. But the idea of death still thrilled her, even more so when she is a dealer in a game of death itself.
Her fingers tugged against the hem of their sleeve, drawing it downwards to reveal pale, bandaged skin, coloured by wounds and bruises, like paint splattered upon an empty canvas. She inhaled, breathing out a slow, quiet and shaky breath. "I do not like pain." they answered. ”I do.” she countered, ”But not when it concerns you.” lips of red murmured gentle words of intimacy, not belonging to romance, but laced with emotions akin to adoration. Cold fingers traced their bruises, like connecting dots.
”It’s what we are.” she answered. Her voice was calm, quiet, barely above a whisper. ”It’s not wrong to indulge in something that’s actually.. genuine. Primal.” but sex was not something Iris had done to feel normal, or ‘human’. It was simply.. exciting. The glint in another person’s eyes while their hands dug into the skin of Iris’ hips, or the way they were simply obedient and submissive, quivering underneath the hell-hound’s larger frame. It was simply.. just a game. This world was simply another game to her.
Only at the sound of Alva’s voice, and the soft thud of their paintbrush upon soft carpet, that the hell-hound had finally drew herself away, sitting on the further end of the couch. Their skin was cold, pricked by the cold air of the gloomy weather, no longer basked in the warmth of heaven’s embrace. And behind her she felt approaching footsteps, stopping barely a few feet radius around her. They were waiting. ”Eat.” she answered, ”I am hungry. I am hungry for the knowledge of you, of why you plague my thoughts.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2019 8:11 pm
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Location: Home ♚ Company: Iris ♚ Money: $1000♚ Attire: [In Pic] ♚ Relationship Status: Single
"Be at peace please.."
♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
Powers active!
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Alva tilted their head a little bit as the mention of them and how they were quiet in their presence. Words of a vague origin, of a darker secret and yet to Alva it seemed as through it were simple "You speak of your ghosts. The echos." as if they understood the truth of the matter of what hounded Iris. It was not as though they saw them, for their eyes never trailed to them but a creature such as Alva would be aware that there was always more.
They continued to stare into Iris, still of body and seemingly devoid of emotion as all dolls did. The wounds upon Iris did not need healing, but perhaps there was a deeper wound...one that did not breed the feelings they observed. Alva noticed the presence in their home for the air of the place was heavier with far more than the hell-hounds breath, but a deeper suffering the "angel" noted.
Alva could not answer if Iris would only be well in their presence, but they wondered the same of themselves. Iris's presence quieted the tapping of the rain and silenced the furious crack of thunder. Alva paid no mind to the drowning world and could only focus upon the blackening spot above them. The danger that seemed so hesitant to thrust itself upon them. It was still so curious that something that should have been anathema to them was a cure...that the hound of hell would seek to guard them as they were her home. What curiosity....
However within an instantly, like the lightning outside the figure above them crackled to life and within an instantly new thunder reached their ears.
”Why!”
And the heavy fist hitting the pale upholstery. There was anger in Iris, and this time it was aimed at them and yet they did not seem afraid. Would Iris kill them now? The thought, the possibility did not seem to scare Alva. They waited, quiet, allowing Iris to do as they pleased without even a twitch to defend themselves. Quiet. The flaring fires began to die down and left only resentful embers against the quiet. Alva laid there, pliant and waiting to be acted upon and yet even with fingers at their throat there was no threat.
”What’s wrong with purging this world of filth. Isn’t it fine? They are but another troubled soul in this world..."
There was a twinge of regret, an unsure thing within Iris that pulled at Alva to gently brush their hand against the creature that Alva treated not as an evil...but as a being. Their hands were gentle as hers were. Balance. A void. A mirror that was stuck between the two that kept them from pulling to far to their side and leaving them stuck in a reality uninfluenced. Alva shook their head at the hell-hounds words.
”Do you think my methods are vile? Have I finally struck you disgusting?”
"No more than I find the Lily of the Valley. Beautiful but poisonous. Misunderstood, and needing only...care." they answered moving their hand and laying up flat on the back of their hand. Truly Iris was filed with a poison, but Alva did not shirk away and avoid them. They touched, breathed, and cared as any caretaker would. Alva had no compulsion to ruin or avoid Iris.
”But they laid their hands on you. On my favourite heavenly perfection. I am not wrong.”
"No. Your anger is just, but would I be so perfect if I led you further into darkness? Allowed your echos to grow? You are not wrong, but neither is the man for striking me. I am made for such things. Every cut on my skin, every crack of my bones for others." they whispered "My purpose. I will take every sin and strike, accept their anger and needs just as I would yours. I will never lead you astray. If I did...then perhaps I would not be so perfect." there was no hate, no malice, no love, or need.
There was only truth once again. The pull of the Simulacra's creation hanging upon them as darkness did to Iris. Light, but steeped in suffering as they were made. Devoted despite everything....as an angel would be and yet still a pale imitation. They did not question this aspect of their lives, for if they did what purpose did they really have? Would they truly be able to help Iris if they abandoned that path? Alva...did not wish to think of it.
”What better way to feel alive than pain?”
"Love."
”What better way to feel alive than to bleed? To feel. What better way to be alive knowing you could die?”
Words that to Alva meant very little. Alva could die, but death could not keep a hold on them. They would be here until there was nothing. Until the void truly took everything and there was nothing left to give. No one left to give anything to. Death provided no solace or opposition to feeling alive. What was left was simply...
"To live to joy. To find what brings you peace and makes you smile. That is living is it not? I do not truly believe you have lost it." genuine faith in that even Iris could find something to live for. Something to sooth the dark storm within them and allow them to live without the need for pain.
Of course there was more, but the hunger had hit Alva. Would Alex feel disappointed that they had forgotten to eat again? What would the entity of death say to this? Iris shifted their weight from them allowing Alva to sit up. Gently leaning to pick up the brush they gingerly set it on the easel, below their blank canvas as the failures sat beside them. They stared for a moment before their eyes looked to Iris. Perhaps....
They stood up and shifted a chair from their dining room table to before the easel. They stood beside it "I will show you what I see." they spoke gently and motioned to the chair. It was clear what the Simulacrums desire was.
They were going to paint Iris. They were going to give Iris a glimpse as to what their pure what eyes saw when they looked upon them.
The Simulacrum had finally found something to paint. Truth.
♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
"...I'll take all the pain for you. Now and until the end. "
Ooc:
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Posted: Mon Feb 25, 2019 8:31 pm
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❛I do not fear death.
I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born,
And had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.
"How do I know you’re not the killer?” she asked.
“Because you would’ve been the first victim."❜
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I'm feeling intrigued. || I'm speaking to Alva. || I'm wearing feminine casual || I have $200 on me and $800 stashed in the bank. || I have feelings for no one.
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"They blame me for their deaths." she answered, but there was not a single trace of fear laced within her voice. "But in truth it was the greed of mankind that led to their downfall." humans easily betrayed one another, most over greed and envy. Some over wealth and fortune. Others simply over lust. Iris was all but a voice in the back of their head, feeding the ill-will of mankind manifested within a stain they try so hard to hide, knowing it'd eventually spread over their frail minds like a disease, like a plague. Crimson eyes trailed over her shoulders, allowing her red lips to curve into a wicked smile when they met the gathering figures, the discarded pawns within the hell-hound's game of chess.
But they were so predictable. Each ending with the same miserable fate, each latching their crippled hands upon the skin of her neck in a tight strangle on nights Iris found her own conscience fading, replaced instead by false memories and hallucinations. But this one, her eyes returned to Alva's, eyes bordering insanity meeting one empty and hollow. Her anger came like the flash of lightning, sudden. Like the crack of thunder, loud. Yet it faded as quickly as it came, like the skies after a thunder storm, a brilliant sky blue without the faintest trace of pifch black it once held. Alva's hand brushed across hers, like the gentle stroke belonging to a mother's, like a gentle spring breeze, like the gentle graze of a dandelion's petal against her skin. They shook their head, and once more, the hell-hound's striking eyes dimmed, denied of her methods.
"..Care?" she paused, almost in disbelief. "Care is fickle. Love is fickle." love was non-existent to Iris, having seen reality of mankind played before her own eyes time after time, of man turning to their ill manifestations. But her voice was not laced with disappointment, it lacked emotions, as though it was a simple truth she discovered.
"But you are denying me of my purpose." she countered, her tone flat, almost empty, and then she laughed. Could anything be deemed 'right' in this world? There were teachings, and like sheep and followers, people only blindly followed. Perhaps if taught differently, even the hell-hound's methods could become 'right'. Their voice was all but a quiet whisper, but it did not fall on deaf ears. Iris listened to every word they spoke, even though it had struck chord after chord, even if their truth was not what the hell-hound wanted to hear. For them, she listened, still. "I cannot be redeemed. I wished not to be redeemed. For what am I without my identity." pale hand latched onto theirs, guiding the fingers to her throat, to gently run along latin words inked into her skin, running like a black collar around her neck. Words that latched her, bound her being to a reality unknown. I can live neither with you, nor without you. And just perhaps, Iris had found the true meaning behind such words that appeared upon her skin, of why such words were chosen by the one she had once served. Perhaps their eyes have seen through what laid ahead of her, perhaps they knew the hell-hound was bound to meet a creature that was both similar, yet also very different.
"I cannot be with you." their presence fought against one another, like fire and ice, like the moon and the sun. "But I cannot be without you." their clashing presence would balance, with a quiet flowing river between the duo that neither would cross, like a thin thread that would break at the faintest of movement, at this false creation of peace from their equal compromise.
"Perhaps you are my purpose." perhaps the build up of whispers was all but a bridge that led to paths crossed, to learn that there was a mere presence that could banish what Iris thought was impossible. That there was an equal.
Slender fingers ran through dark locks of raven that smelled faintly of cannabis and cigarettes, brushing them over a shoulder as she released a quiet breath. Joy was sickening, it was a false belief, of people hiding within the bubble of fantasy they've created, Iris thought. What could be more true than standing before the face of death, overwhelmed by sheer fear that revealed the deepest of secrets, that led to the true nature of what they are. But what is life without death? She simply remained silent, catching the movement of the heavenly creature sitting up beside her, of loose ivory locks falling past their shoulders. Their eyes stared, and she felt her own drawn towards theirs, each reflecting one another like a mirror. A beautiful lie, and an ugly truth.
A gasp escaped her lips, at the tight grasp of a hand against their neck the moment the heavenly creature stepped away. Tight, like how the collar she wore once dug into her skin, that silenced her howl. This was a woman, of a neck long and broken, hung from the railing of he second floor staircase after she leaped to her death. Wanting wealth, fortune and lust, yet losing altogether at the same time. She, too had blamed Iris' voice, when in truth the hell-hound held no power against people with a strong belief. She was all but another lost cause. Her nails were sharp, leaving a small streak of red mark where she had scratched. Her voice was hoarse, accompanied with the crackles of bones should she try to speak, but all she uttered was a quiet groan before it disappeared once more, where the only presence Iris felt was her own, and Alva's. She drew a breath in, feeling the tingling numbness around her skin as she stood, this time sitting upon the dining chair they brought. Were they not going to eat?
"I will look for them. You understand, don't you. You cannot change my mind." she answered, shattering the silent atmosphere they shared. "They will be another whisper that builds my silent echoes, another hand against my throat, another lost cause that blames me for their own downfall. And like what you are to me, I cannot live without my whispers. I am bound since the day of my creation." her cardigan draped loosely over the edge of her seat, like waterfalls of black ink as she drew her legs up on the chair, resting her heel against the wooden seat while the other crossed underneath. Her arms crossed in the front, hugging a leg while her cheek came to rest atop her knee. Crimson orbs flicked towards theirs, searching for an answer, or even their hurtful denial.
"If I purge this world of sins, should this world be free of need, of man. Would you finally be free of the chains that binds you? Will you truly be free, then?" her voice was curious, asked only as a mere thought crossing her mind. A quiet chuckle escaped her lips, and her eyes downcast, falling upon carpets of white. Despite her words, for once, the thought seemed just a tad pure coming from the hellish creature. To think not of herself, but only of Alva.
"Perhaps when that day does come, I would end beneath your hands, and you would shatter the one last chain that binds you. Maybe only then will I let you guide me to this peace you all seem so keen on believing in."
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Out.Of.Crocodiles:
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Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2019 2:00 am
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Posted: Sun May 31, 2020 1:44 pm
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Location: Home ♚ Company: Iris ♚ Money: $1000♚ Attire: [In Pic] ♚ Relationship Status: Single
"Be at peace please.."
♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
Powers active!
-Info in profile-
Alva gently wiped the dirt off their hands, staring down gently at the newly plotted plant that sat nicely in their backyard. It hadn't been hard to get their hands on, but in truth the planting of the flower was more symbolic than anything. They had no intention of attracting butterflies, but if they came to rest on it then they would not complain. Butterflies were nice company, and were no different to the others. Fleeting presence. Beautiful to observe, but like all things they would merely move on to settle elsewhere, and perhaps to die elsewhere.
Bloodflowers. Beautiful reds, oranges and Golds. Its was no wonder it was so attractive to the creatures. They would gently pulled out a paint brush, wetting it on the single color they had on the pallet nearby and and decorate the back pot they had placed it in. A number and inscription "Find peace" before they pushed it closer to the light. They would stare at it, a small sigh before looking at their hand covered in bandages. Bringing it up to their teeth they gently bit down until they could taste a bit of blood. They leaned forward and gently rubbed the leaves a bit, pressing more on the soil. It didn't need it, but it was a welcome. They would rise up and walk away, drops of blood left behind as they headed to their kitchen to grab another bandage.
With that, they were down and so they grabbed more pain, another pallet, and easel, and another canvas. They would sit down near the window. They would close their eyes and they would start to paint. Memories. Perhaps just as fleeing as the butterflies and birds might devour the leaves of their Bloodflowers. Another chapter. They'd hand it up just to remind them should they forgot, but perhaps it was time to make new memories...if they could.
♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
"...I'll take all the pain for you. Now and until the end. "
Ooc: |
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Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2020 12:22 am
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Posted: Wed Mar 09, 2022 5:15 pm
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Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2022 12:12 am
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Posted: Fri May 20, 2022 12:49 pm
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Posted: Tue May 24, 2022 12:01 am
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2023 5:10 am
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Posted: Tue May 30, 2023 11:07 pm
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