the bible didn't mention us - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: the bible didn't mention us (/showthread.php?tid=22914) |
- China Rose Lykoi - 12-01-2011 [html] ooc: Private. Pictou falls, Northern Halycon. It was cold beside the falls. The kind of blistering cold that begins as a burning fire across exposed flesh, until blissfully sliding into numbness.
.china-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .china-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .china-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .china-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... /vine3.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 20px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:11px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Itachi Lykoi - 12-02-2011 [html] He's wearing his awesome robethingie, OH YEAHZ Pale fingers adorned with dark claws tugged at the soft yet sturdy material that embraced his paling hues like a second skin might. But frozen rain had yet to spread out as eerie showers from the swirls of bland grey above. Optime feet stepped through frosted seas of dying grass, though it was only the morning’s lows temperatures wishing to fool others into believing the season had changed into winter. The man himself was indifferent of the names the rest of his kind desired to gift to the stages his world moved into. Today was cooler than the day before, and tomorrow had the possibility to offer less of the warmth that now only served as a fading memory in the back of his head. Cold would suit him just fine, and in a world frozen in ice, perhaps he would naturally belong for once.
He hoped the frailer creatures had managed to move to warmer places than here. Thoughts were wild and would always wander, and it reminded him that he was still captured in the blushed palm of a ghost. Not the ghost with the terrible blue gaze that lusted for the lives of others, but the softer shades of the summer skies filled with the awe for beauty that Itachi would never be able to discover on his own. He didn’t consciously miss her, and had not tried to find the silvery songbird. Birds flew high and where they wanted, and he did not wish to introduce its sweet music into his life. Perhaps it had given him comfort to think that she had disappeared to someplace better than here.
Traces of the bitter stench of vomit caused his nose to wrinkle momentarily, thought that was not what had drawn him to the dry edge where cold, calm pools rested amongst busy water rushing past, driven only slightly mad by the nearby falls. Nearly white fingers reached for the flute that he thought ought to look more familiar. But it belonged to a bird whose wings should have carried her far, far away from here by now. China disappointed him, but the simple fact that she managed to bring that melancholy to crawl in under his skin was astonishing. The fallen Prince picked up the abandoned bag as well, though he did not have to wander far to find the living shell of a broken creature painted with silver that had felt like silk last time he had touched it.
Scarlet eyes didn’t wish to linger with the broken thing. So fragile. Instead, he turned to squint at the scenery surrounding them; vibrant hues slim with unmasked hostility. But no demonic presence had followed him here, and soon, Itachi’s focus managed to settle where he desired. There was the strangest sensation within his chest, and a pale palm moved to push against the skin above, though the sensation’s path went deep under skin and bone. He remembered what she had looked like the first time he had set eyes on her. The soft blue was hidden behind pale eyelids, and the gentle soul seemed to be locked away by unconsciousness. This thing had not been created to outlive the cold of winter on her own.
He didn’t hesitate before touching a brittle arm, and beneath her thin fur, skin was cold; a vibrant opposite of his. He didn’t immediately wonder what she was doing out here on her own. They had always found each other in the strangest places. .itachi-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .itachi-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .itachi-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .itachi-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... achi-1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 100px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - China Rose Lykoi - 12-03-2011 [html] Wordcount: 3+ Time slid by, before the touch brought her back from deep, tortured dreams. Dark lashes fluttered, struggling to grasp at the thin strands of peace that could be found between the polars of sleep and awareness; For so long now she had been unable to rest, to sleep sweetly. Weariness clouded her brain with an unpleasant fog, but the girl stirred nonetheless, finally opening bruised eyelids to release a gaze of fragile eggshell blue.
.china-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .china-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .china-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .china-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... /vine3.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 20px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:11px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Itachi Lykoi - 12-07-2011 [html] I'm so sad, because I'm unable to match your beaaaautiful post ;_; hurf The still frame of the sleeping beauty stirred at his touch, and his initial thought was to find it strange that there was still life within the starved, visually exhausted skeleton draped with the hues he had coveted so, long ago when silver and blush were sleek and silky to the touch. She had always been broken, but not like this. He suspected both wings to be broken this time, and was not glad for this discovery.
It was wrong of her to smile like she did; revealing such a gentle and sweetly curved line of grace. So wrong. Long, dark days had passed since he last had seen such light. He displayed a calm he no longer owned as red and lilac shades looked at the hollowed shell of the past. She would know better than to expect him to return the smile. He remained carved in rock, though the rough edges would never dream of cutting her.
He reacted to the her cool touch, though it was not definitely not cold numbness that was spreading from where blushing fingertips connected with his face. The fallen prince desired to draw away from the seductive blue, but he wasn’t stronger than he had been back then, when he had been naught but a foolish child with red hands. There was the crumbling sound from within hollow halls, of ancient walls disintegrating. They could be two strangers exchanging mere glances, but no one had or would ever know him as well as the silver songbird. Did she know how persistently her presence still haunted his dreams?
Her arms asked him for comfort and safety, though she was much too cold. The golden haired male didn’t suffer from the weather as she did, and shed his black robe quickly to wrap it around her bony structure. He would give her what she wanted without hesitation, because their needs and desires seemed to match perfectly. Very gently, the male pulled the frail summer child away from the cold, and into the warmth of his embrace. Pale palms settled behind a frail neck and the bony curve of her back, pulling the wispy body close to his so that she could steal from his warmth. .itachi-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .itachi-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .itachi-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .itachi-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... achi-1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 100px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - China Rose Lykoi - 12-12-2011 [html] Shuttup. I love you forever. There was such darkness within him, such potential for havoc and chaos. The forces of a dim despair, a vengeful and apathetic god; He was blessed with a beauty to make the angels cry, a pelt of sunspilled gold and a lean, athletic body to make a mortal crave. Lucifer, the most beloved of the fallen, the favorite.
.china-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .china-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .china-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .china-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... /vine3.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 20px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:11px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Itachi Lykoi - 12-29-2011 [html] Whatever, kona mi. There were words that could describe the fallen prince and the dark colours lurking beneath fake gold and false gemstones of dying horizons smeared with gloomy beauty. But now, as he held his skeleton bride in his arms, he could only think of white. Demons and nightmares would always seem to disappear as the new, glorious breath of daylight drowsily flooded the earth as a new morning arose, and the lovely bones in the Itachi’s arms was dawn, in all its glory. Colour, mood and taste changed, but it would always be the same.
Scarlet held on to powder blue in an eternal moment before she hid away, pressed against his velvet chest. Beneath, its prison of flesh and bone, leaped the concentration of the life that flowed within him; recognizing the very purpose of its beat, now so close, just beyond its prison bars. It was a strange sensation; to feel magic brew inside his chest in response to this particular presence.
China’s brittle bones wouldn’t stand tough weather, and so golden arms were eternally gentle as they wrapped around the suffering frame; prisoning her in his embrace. Fingers brushed down along the darling’s back, involuntary rediscovering the uneven path of crisp bones under thin layer of skin and pelt. China had shivered with the absence of warmth the first time the golden boy had laid his eyes on her, and the thin layer of ashen fur couldn’t hide her body’s condition the slightest at this time. The survival of the fittest was the way of life he admired, but how could he when it so clearly demanded this girl’s demise?
Rules could be bended and broken, and Itachi was a man that carved out his own path. The soft shakes of the sentenced girl’s body sent involuntary echoes into his own, though he was the mountain; earth and rock withstanding every disaster there was. He wondered where the flaw resided. Should he have chased after her when she escaped her gilded cage? Should he have attempted to find her sooner? It was not his way to chase after wild, supernatural creatures. They belonged to different worlds, and it had never been his intention to steal her from hers. But winter had come, and now threatened to banish her forever. The right decision was there, though, in plain sight. If he was to do right by them both, he should untangle those golden arms and walk away from this place, and the precious being so needy of his uncharacteristic affection. But their kind was flawed, and Itachi, as every other mortal, made mistakes. He could never release her to the cold.
A warm, pale hand moved to brush against no-longer luscious hair that once had framed a lovely princess’ face. He closed his eyes, didn’t’ say anything. What were words, anyway. Words wouldn’t save the frail soul in his arms; they couldn’t provide for her and protect her from the world. China was meant for fairy tales and happily-ever-after, not this. A bird’s song was not everything. Within blonde ears, white noise sang instead; soothing and terrible all the same. .itachi-x01 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .itachi-x01 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .itachi-x01 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .itachi-x01 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://i1047.photobucket.com/albums/b47 ... achi-1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 100px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] |