07-03-2009, 10:58 AM
[html]
http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... /lilth.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Uhm, 1188 words. Holy shit? x_x
Hefty drops of water drummed an upbeat cadence on nearby roofs, an orchestra accompanying the harsh whispers rattling the insides of her brain. She heard them frequently, although they weren’t always this loud. Most of the time, she could barely decipher what was being said. It was all white noise to her. As far as she was concerned, it was better that way. She could handle constant interference; it was annoying at times but at least, she did not have the deal with unknown beings. Every so often, the madwoman would catch bits and pieces of conversation; one or two words at most. The last time she’d actually picked up a few words, it had led to the brutal murder of a Crimson Dreams male.
She remembered it vividly. Flames towering high above, the enticing smell of gasoline and the victim’s deafening screams. She’d done it for Ahren; to honor his glorious memory. Fire was an element she inevitably associated with him, ever since the Aquila had informed her of his death. Such a shame; it was potential well wasted. The city was relatively close to her home in the Dampwoods. She’d found an abandoned cellar and made it her own; it was well-hidden and rare were those who ventured inside. It was the perfect place; quiet and away from prying eyes. It shielded her from the sunlight she hated so, a dark sanctuary illuminated solely by the hushed glow of candles littering the cement floor.
Unfortunately, candles weren’t everlasting and they had to be replaced every so often. Halifax was the ideal place to find what she was looking for; matches, bougies, lanterns and canned goods. She too, was unfamiliar with the city. The Concrete Jungle had been her home for the longest time and now, the visionary’s church lay in a pile of debris with the rest of Bleeding Souls. Lillith had spent most of the night pillaging houses, a forlorn figure roaming empty streets with no set destination in mind. The coal femme had a few hours left before sunrise, then she would have to seek refuge somewhere dark; a basement or some sort. Her eyes, for some unknown reason, were unaccustomed to daylight and she found it preferable to sleep during light hours.
As she made her way down the next few rows of houses, another’s scent pierced through the rain. Aquamarine orbs located the person in question rather easily; someone she did not quite recognize. She bore the smell of Inferni and yet, it wasn’t fully impregnated in her pelt. “That’ll kill you someday,” she said offhandedly, gesturing to the alcoholic beverage with her nose. Blue-green eyes swept over the woman’s body, at least twice, before settling on the older female's single eye. It was similar to Gabriel’s in coloration. A family member, perhaps?
Hefty drops of water drummed an upbeat cadence on nearby roofs, an orchestra accompanying the harsh whispers rattling the insides of her brain. She heard them frequently, although they weren’t always this loud. Most of the time, she could barely decipher what was being said. It was all white noise to her. As far as she was concerned, it was better that way. She could handle constant interference; it was annoying at times but at least, she did not have the deal with unknown beings. Every so often, the madwoman would catch bits and pieces of conversation; one or two words at most. The last time she’d actually picked up a few words, it had led to the brutal murder of a Crimson Dreams male.
She remembered it vividly. Flames towering high above, the enticing smell of gasoline and the victim’s deafening screams. She’d done it for Ahren; to honor his glorious memory. Fire was an element she inevitably associated with him, ever since the Aquila had informed her of his death. Such a shame; it was potential well wasted. The city was relatively close to her home in the Dampwoods. She’d found an abandoned cellar and made it her own; it was well-hidden and rare were those who ventured inside. It was the perfect place; quiet and away from prying eyes. It shielded her from the sunlight she hated so, a dark sanctuary illuminated solely by the hushed glow of candles littering the cement floor.
Unfortunately, candles weren’t everlasting and they had to be replaced every so often. Halifax was the ideal place to find what she was looking for; matches, bougies, lanterns and canned goods. She too, was unfamiliar with the city. The Concrete Jungle had been her home for the longest time and now, the visionary’s church lay in a pile of debris with the rest of Bleeding Souls. Lillith had spent most of the night pillaging houses, a forlorn figure roaming empty streets with no set destination in mind. The coal femme had a few hours left before sunrise, then she would have to seek refuge somewhere dark; a basement or some sort. Her eyes, for some unknown reason, were unaccustomed to daylight and she found it preferable to sleep during light hours.
As she made her way down the next few rows of houses, another’s scent pierced through the rain. Aquamarine orbs located the person in question rather easily; someone she did not quite recognize. She bore the smell of Inferni and yet, it wasn’t fully impregnated in her pelt. “That’ll kill you someday,” she said offhandedly, gesturing to the alcoholic beverage with her nose. Blue-green eyes swept over the woman’s body, at least twice, before settling on the older female's single eye. It was similar to Gabriel’s in coloration. A family member, perhaps?