the bible didn't mention us

Itachi Lykoi · 12-02-2011, 08:04 AM

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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.

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