12-15-2010, 08:23 PM
OOC: Word count 893 - 5 points
The walls of this necrosis were alive, Ykesha sore by it. She could feel bloodshot eyes turn from every direction of the darkened office building; they widened upon seeing her bright flesh, rolled with stiffened madness across red-rusted sockets. Ykesha’s skin crawled and her pupil-less gaze swam with caution against the emptiness. Her sight had not adjusted, and though her two feet stepped gingerly over fallen papers and broken glass, she knew nothing of her surroundings but the abundance of litter. Her breath was shallow, hesitant. She feared to make noise. Surely the walls would ripple from their century of slumber, reached with fingers grayed and pecked at by scavenging beaks to close scaling, blistering palms across her thin frame. The building would dismantle her. It would disjoin her. The fae’s brindled body quaked under the weight of both the cold and the unknown, and she felt small in herself--colorless in this world of black and grey. The woman’s chest compressed as her cold fingertips grazed her bare belly. She held herself, shivering and waiting in the clinging silence for her vision to return. If only she had brought a candle…
In her mind, the living building looked up at her, its eyes whirling as drool slid from its crocked mouth and pooled across the floor. The abandoned office papers became wet with saliva and stuck strangely into place.
You’re up to your toes…
The woman’s heat beat audibly within her chest, her white eyes peeled so far back they rimmed pink and shown moistly. She moved to leave, one arm departing her ribs to wave open-palmed in the air for hazards which might block her path. She was damp with worry, her bravery long departing upon seeing the graveyard of the human world, the skeletal remains of the race whom preceded her. Although only a few steps into the belly of the structure, the darkness had disoriented her. Ykesha stepped several paces one direction, paused, and moved back in the opposite way. She appeared drunk in her blindness, and so enraptured was she with the desire to flee that when another tread into the pyramid of absolute lightlessness she neither heard him approach nor smelled his telling odor. He voice, however, nearly shook her free of her skin.
‘Hello. I didn’t expect anyone else to be around here.’
Ykesha’s lungs threw open a soft cry, her body leaping forward as a spooked stag. Through her shock the colorless world burst into hues of red and cold, her sudden fright painting the building as a vile and terrible scene akin to open and weeping flesh. She fell, somehow, her awkward legs slipping from beneath her as a resounding crash eluded to the girl’s gift of stealth. The fae sat up from her spilled position across the eroding marble tiled floor, her heart pounding the roof of her mouth as she blinked wildly. The colors brought of my adrenalin soaked through her vision and the picture of dullness swam back into focus. Ykesha’s mouth was dry from the event; she forcefully peeled the raspberry of her tongue from two levels of shuttering teeth. With a dazed and surprised expression, the woman looked disconcertedly about, her chest still pushed from the floor as a log lifted on one end by a child looking ‘neath it for bugs.
Who had done that? The woman’s brindled ears flicked back in momentary worry. “Pray softer, stranger, you startled me.” Her voice was attractive - foreign - but currently held none of its usual strength nor personality. Her breath still fluttered on moth wings within her chest. The woman attempted to collect herself, drawing both long legs to her and pushing with thin arms upon the broken ground. Silently, Ykesha righted herself and sat upon her calves near where she’d fallen. With an unnerved and quivering hand she pulled her thick hair around and began to run her nails through it, managing the now disheveled ends. It was only when she performed this task, that the fae noticed her hair was streaked with red.
In the fall, Ykesha’s palm had split beneath a shard of glass. With the curiosity of a child first discovering soap bubbles the lass paused her brushing motion, drew her hand closer to her face and peeled it open. It bloomed flower-like near her face, and the smell of iron sent her nose twitching.
The woman stared at the wound briefly, noting the pace at which the red oozed from between her fingers. She balled her fist, squeezed, and found interest at the stick within pad and fur. It felt oddly like she’d wetted her hand with honey. Bright eyes blinked at the abrasion, flicked towards the dim light where the sound had emitted, and squinted in an attempt to see.
“I don’t suppose you’ve some spare cloth with you, perchance? Seems I’ve cut myself in my little display.” Her voice was calmer; it seemed she had begun to calculate rather than feel.
Ykesha wasn’t settled, however, even with the gifted luperci delivered to her. Her heart had calmed and her mind stabilized, but the hackles beneath her long hair remained erect, waving nude arms into the swallowing darkness. Whether the fae acknowledged them or not, their voices sung a choir of warning.
These walls, truly are breathing.
You’re up to your toes, little Ykesha.
The walls of this necrosis were alive, Ykesha sore by it. She could feel bloodshot eyes turn from every direction of the darkened office building; they widened upon seeing her bright flesh, rolled with stiffened madness across red-rusted sockets. Ykesha’s skin crawled and her pupil-less gaze swam with caution against the emptiness. Her sight had not adjusted, and though her two feet stepped gingerly over fallen papers and broken glass, she knew nothing of her surroundings but the abundance of litter. Her breath was shallow, hesitant. She feared to make noise. Surely the walls would ripple from their century of slumber, reached with fingers grayed and pecked at by scavenging beaks to close scaling, blistering palms across her thin frame. The building would dismantle her. It would disjoin her. The fae’s brindled body quaked under the weight of both the cold and the unknown, and she felt small in herself--colorless in this world of black and grey. The woman’s chest compressed as her cold fingertips grazed her bare belly. She held herself, shivering and waiting in the clinging silence for her vision to return. If only she had brought a candle…
In her mind, the living building looked up at her, its eyes whirling as drool slid from its crocked mouth and pooled across the floor. The abandoned office papers became wet with saliva and stuck strangely into place.
You’re up to your toes…
The woman’s heat beat audibly within her chest, her white eyes peeled so far back they rimmed pink and shown moistly. She moved to leave, one arm departing her ribs to wave open-palmed in the air for hazards which might block her path. She was damp with worry, her bravery long departing upon seeing the graveyard of the human world, the skeletal remains of the race whom preceded her. Although only a few steps into the belly of the structure, the darkness had disoriented her. Ykesha stepped several paces one direction, paused, and moved back in the opposite way. She appeared drunk in her blindness, and so enraptured was she with the desire to flee that when another tread into the pyramid of absolute lightlessness she neither heard him approach nor smelled his telling odor. He voice, however, nearly shook her free of her skin.
‘Hello. I didn’t expect anyone else to be around here.’
Ykesha’s lungs threw open a soft cry, her body leaping forward as a spooked stag. Through her shock the colorless world burst into hues of red and cold, her sudden fright painting the building as a vile and terrible scene akin to open and weeping flesh. She fell, somehow, her awkward legs slipping from beneath her as a resounding crash eluded to the girl’s gift of stealth. The fae sat up from her spilled position across the eroding marble tiled floor, her heart pounding the roof of her mouth as she blinked wildly. The colors brought of my adrenalin soaked through her vision and the picture of dullness swam back into focus. Ykesha’s mouth was dry from the event; she forcefully peeled the raspberry of her tongue from two levels of shuttering teeth. With a dazed and surprised expression, the woman looked disconcertedly about, her chest still pushed from the floor as a log lifted on one end by a child looking ‘neath it for bugs.
Who had done that? The woman’s brindled ears flicked back in momentary worry. “Pray softer, stranger, you startled me.” Her voice was attractive - foreign - but currently held none of its usual strength nor personality. Her breath still fluttered on moth wings within her chest. The woman attempted to collect herself, drawing both long legs to her and pushing with thin arms upon the broken ground. Silently, Ykesha righted herself and sat upon her calves near where she’d fallen. With an unnerved and quivering hand she pulled her thick hair around and began to run her nails through it, managing the now disheveled ends. It was only when she performed this task, that the fae noticed her hair was streaked with red.
In the fall, Ykesha’s palm had split beneath a shard of glass. With the curiosity of a child first discovering soap bubbles the lass paused her brushing motion, drew her hand closer to her face and peeled it open. It bloomed flower-like near her face, and the smell of iron sent her nose twitching.
The woman stared at the wound briefly, noting the pace at which the red oozed from between her fingers. She balled her fist, squeezed, and found interest at the stick within pad and fur. It felt oddly like she’d wetted her hand with honey. Bright eyes blinked at the abrasion, flicked towards the dim light where the sound had emitted, and squinted in an attempt to see.
“I don’t suppose you’ve some spare cloth with you, perchance? Seems I’ve cut myself in my little display.” Her voice was calmer; it seemed she had begun to calculate rather than feel.
Ykesha wasn’t settled, however, even with the gifted luperci delivered to her. Her heart had calmed and her mind stabilized, but the hackles beneath her long hair remained erect, waving nude arms into the swallowing darkness. Whether the fae acknowledged them or not, their voices sung a choir of warning.
These walls, truly are breathing.
You’re up to your toes, little Ykesha.