12-13-2010, 04:41 PM
OOC: WC: 824 - 5 points
I’ve had a dream for three nights now. A child sits drawing in the dirt with his hands. In his lap lies a small pile of human fingers, bent and gray like chickens’ feet. He is humming an unrecognizable tune, but the rhythm and pace suggest he’s engineered the rhyme himself. He hasn’t noticed me, and for several minutes, I watch him while hidden amongst the insects and shadows. His eyes are wide with the wonder he creates upon the mud and his cheerful humming is broken regularly by the high hiss of laughter. Eventually, I approach him, and he looks up at me with the fixed curiosity of childhood. He smiles. His teeth are yellowed and uneven. With a sort of ticking akin to a wind-up toy his head turns unnaturally to the side and pauses once perpendicular to the ground. The grin which had adorned his face in mirth now splits wide and cuts his head into two equal halves. As I recoil and clutch my breast to still the thrashing of an unnerved organ, his tongue laps out, hanging to his throat. I now notice that his cheeks have been slit from ear to ear, although he feels no pain nor seems bothered by this deformity. He slowly rises to stand on legs which quake from dis-attention and are thin and shriveled like an apple turned sour. The fingers spill from his lap, rolling to the ground where they seem nothing but a sea of gray-studded worms. My breath falls quick within my chest and with both hands I clutch myself, jaw falling open in a voiceless cry. On uneasy, newborn steps, he limps towards me.
“Come, come, Lass of Lynn…Tell me, tell me, where you’ve been…”
When I finally wake, I feel unpleasant.
The stillness which befell Ykesha’s face felt heavy like rotted breath. Her bright eyes turned skyward then pressed closed in an attempt to separate the foul air from herself. The woman walked with unsure movements; the haste and firmness which usually guided each stride had fled at the smell of the decaying city. As she surveyed it, Ykesha felt ill and in turn each brindled ear flicked back with worry. The high crumbling walls of the cityscape seemed so blistered. She half expected to see the buildings weep blackened puss and ooze towards the ground like liquidized flesh. As the small fae walked deeper into this urban netherworld she clutched her arms about her ribs. The steel giants seemed to react to this in kind. Light no longer graced Ykesha’s eyelashes when she flicked them towards the sky. Each iron-kissed urban tower had removed the sun from view, so that despite the early hour Ykesha found herself treading through darkness. Her teeth slapped against each other not just from the cold, but from nervousness as well. She was sure this city would loom lower and lick her from the streets with a dry, scaly tongue. The brindle closed her eyes tightly and shook her young face. The hair which trailed to her back lightly slapped across her shoulders in reassurance.
“You’re only here for a blanket,” she reminded herself. “Keep you head, Ykesha. You’re acting like a pup.”
Her vocal assurance did not quell the bubbling anxiety she felt within her gut. There resided something which made the fae’s lip curl back in an unflattering display of morbidity. The hackles across her neck rose, pushing the blanket of white hair aloft like a timorous growth. Ykesha’s feral appearance was so unlike her, and in her moment of weakness she was glad no one had seen her calmness displaced so. A quick snarl coughed from her throat as she attempted to adjust herself Idiot, she thought, you’re being completely foolish. She understood this in mind, but her body still refused to heel to reason. Ykesha shook her head again and when she opened her pupil-less eyes once more they held an heir of determination. Blanket. That’s all she was here for. Her steps now where still timid as though several snakes had bitten into her heel, slowing her movement and causing her to limp, yet the stared around her with more purpose than before.
The streets surely would not harbor the goal she so desired. Ykesha’s wild eyes slowly surveyed the broken doors and displaced windows that lined the street. She felt her heart gallop and she swallowed, approached one, and placed both sweating palms on the frozen iron foundation beams. The inside was littered with junk: papers, broken pots, steel desks which were no longer recognizable. The light which had filtered through the broken structure only lit half of the interior space. Ykesha could see no further but her curiosity had finally outweighed her fear. The woman glanced over her shoulder, her mouth salivating in fear and desire. When no one was visible from behind, the thin lass stepped through the broken window and into the darkness.
I’ve had a dream for three nights now. A child sits drawing in the dirt with his hands. In his lap lies a small pile of human fingers, bent and gray like chickens’ feet. He is humming an unrecognizable tune, but the rhythm and pace suggest he’s engineered the rhyme himself. He hasn’t noticed me, and for several minutes, I watch him while hidden amongst the insects and shadows. His eyes are wide with the wonder he creates upon the mud and his cheerful humming is broken regularly by the high hiss of laughter. Eventually, I approach him, and he looks up at me with the fixed curiosity of childhood. He smiles. His teeth are yellowed and uneven. With a sort of ticking akin to a wind-up toy his head turns unnaturally to the side and pauses once perpendicular to the ground. The grin which had adorned his face in mirth now splits wide and cuts his head into two equal halves. As I recoil and clutch my breast to still the thrashing of an unnerved organ, his tongue laps out, hanging to his throat. I now notice that his cheeks have been slit from ear to ear, although he feels no pain nor seems bothered by this deformity. He slowly rises to stand on legs which quake from dis-attention and are thin and shriveled like an apple turned sour. The fingers spill from his lap, rolling to the ground where they seem nothing but a sea of gray-studded worms. My breath falls quick within my chest and with both hands I clutch myself, jaw falling open in a voiceless cry. On uneasy, newborn steps, he limps towards me.
“Come, come, Lass of Lynn…Tell me, tell me, where you’ve been…”
When I finally wake, I feel unpleasant.
The stillness which befell Ykesha’s face felt heavy like rotted breath. Her bright eyes turned skyward then pressed closed in an attempt to separate the foul air from herself. The woman walked with unsure movements; the haste and firmness which usually guided each stride had fled at the smell of the decaying city. As she surveyed it, Ykesha felt ill and in turn each brindled ear flicked back with worry. The high crumbling walls of the cityscape seemed so blistered. She half expected to see the buildings weep blackened puss and ooze towards the ground like liquidized flesh. As the small fae walked deeper into this urban netherworld she clutched her arms about her ribs. The steel giants seemed to react to this in kind. Light no longer graced Ykesha’s eyelashes when she flicked them towards the sky. Each iron-kissed urban tower had removed the sun from view, so that despite the early hour Ykesha found herself treading through darkness. Her teeth slapped against each other not just from the cold, but from nervousness as well. She was sure this city would loom lower and lick her from the streets with a dry, scaly tongue. The brindle closed her eyes tightly and shook her young face. The hair which trailed to her back lightly slapped across her shoulders in reassurance.
“You’re only here for a blanket,” she reminded herself. “Keep you head, Ykesha. You’re acting like a pup.”
Her vocal assurance did not quell the bubbling anxiety she felt within her gut. There resided something which made the fae’s lip curl back in an unflattering display of morbidity. The hackles across her neck rose, pushing the blanket of white hair aloft like a timorous growth. Ykesha’s feral appearance was so unlike her, and in her moment of weakness she was glad no one had seen her calmness displaced so. A quick snarl coughed from her throat as she attempted to adjust herself Idiot, she thought, you’re being completely foolish. She understood this in mind, but her body still refused to heel to reason. Ykesha shook her head again and when she opened her pupil-less eyes once more they held an heir of determination. Blanket. That’s all she was here for. Her steps now where still timid as though several snakes had bitten into her heel, slowing her movement and causing her to limp, yet the stared around her with more purpose than before.
The streets surely would not harbor the goal she so desired. Ykesha’s wild eyes slowly surveyed the broken doors and displaced windows that lined the street. She felt her heart gallop and she swallowed, approached one, and placed both sweating palms on the frozen iron foundation beams. The inside was littered with junk: papers, broken pots, steel desks which were no longer recognizable. The light which had filtered through the broken structure only lit half of the interior space. Ykesha could see no further but her curiosity had finally outweighed her fear. The woman glanced over her shoulder, her mouth salivating in fear and desire. When no one was visible from behind, the thin lass stepped through the broken window and into the darkness.