04-30-2008, 07:59 PM
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Holding the dirty mirror up to his eyes, Samael regarded his own features with something akin to a pout. Oh, he was beautiful, this he knew. Fine, delicate features bearing no traces of wolfen blood. Even for a coyote, effeminate and elegant, with dark hair half-falling across his face. Brushing aside the dark locks, he peered at the scars that were etched into his skin. The two from Gabriel when he had hit him the first time after Samael had proclaimed he'd seen an angel. And on the other side the ones Hybrid had carved desperately when they'd had sex. Nails brushed across the pale, knotted skin, muzzle wrinkling faintly in distaste. He was stuck between anger that his face had been marred so easily and so pointlessly, yet he was also almost pleased in a vague, twisted way. Kaena had scars. Kaena was the most beautiful thing to ever live, and her face had been carved up with all the marks of previous battles. The prince both loved and hated his scars.
Hand thrust out, releasing the mirror and allowing it to fall into the ocean below. It vanished beneath the steely waves with a small splash, lost eternally to the cold waters. There were scars everywhere on his body—so many self-inflicted. It was ugly-beautiful; loved and hated by the creature. Signs of previously inflicted pain and fights he'd fought that'd last forever in his mind, yet they distorted his beauty with a strange ugliness he didn't feel suited him. Body collapsing, seating himself on the edge of the dock in the harbor, legs crossed each other and gaze sought out the skeletal silhouettes of ships floating in the bay. Fog veiled everything, rain falling from the heavens in a steady mist. But he disregarded the weather, pushing aside damp strands of hair and blinking droplets from his eyes as they ran down his face.
Hand thrust out, releasing the mirror and allowing it to fall into the ocean below. It vanished beneath the steely waves with a small splash, lost eternally to the cold waters. There were scars everywhere on his body—so many self-inflicted. It was ugly-beautiful; loved and hated by the creature. Signs of previously inflicted pain and fights he'd fought that'd last forever in his mind, yet they distorted his beauty with a strange ugliness he didn't feel suited him. Body collapsing, seating himself on the edge of the dock in the harbor, legs crossed each other and gaze sought out the skeletal silhouettes of ships floating in the bay. Fog veiled everything, rain falling from the heavens in a steady mist. But he disregarded the weather, pushing aside damp strands of hair and blinking droplets from his eyes as they ran down his face.