10-16-2009, 05:51 PM
ILU <3
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MISERYMisery was old. There was a dull and unpleasant ache in her joints when the weather turned sour. Her leg hurt constantly, endlessly. She had taken to smoking weed again - only when the pain got unbearable. She had found a new medication, a new release. Poe had been lost to her, drifting always out of reach. She loved her girl but the child was gone now. Misery simply knew. Then there was Samhain, her beautiful ghost. Gone too. Damian, her love for her Crimson King had turned her son away. Damian's children, the flesh and blood incarnation of their union...oh how dark and terrible they had been. Beautiful Jude with his bloody eyes, lost to the river. Rift, timid, sweet boy. A nail through the skull. Meth, madness and sickness oh, how she had burned. Blessed be Corona, Ahren's golden girl.
MISERYPsyhke, Damien, Zadkiel, Nox, Cerulean...lost now. She had set them free. Left them to wander in new lands. It was better that way. She loved them dearly, they needed to be away from her. Anzu's blood had set them free. Gin was lost, still in Europe. She hoped he was safe. Loneliness had gotten so close to claiming her, but these days it was all better. Larkspur, her beautiful boy. The most devout child - and she considered him as such, he was everything to her - was her constant companion. He had been birthed by her younger sister, Hollow. A beautiful boy of inky fur and orange eyes. She let her gold-green eyes flicker to him as she regarded the strong, strapping boy with a grin. The mad fever lingered in her eyes - it seemed to never go away now. She was saving him. She would purify him, and save him. He was her last chance at redemption.
MISERYAnzu had been a mistake. A beautiful man of black and white coat and eyes that burned like fire. When he held her, when he spoke, when he was close, Damian's whispering voice in her ear grew quiet. It was nice to have the silence. So she had loved him, in a hollow and unsettling way. But as with all the others she had loved since her Crimson King had been taken - she had killed him. Adder by her own hands, Hollow had died too, they would all die. Anzu had been a trade. A stranger for family - for her pretty little Lark. When they had descended the cold and frigid mountain...she imagined she could hear him screaming. The Gods were hungry, he would make a fine meal.
MISERYThe bleaching had turned his fur orange for now. They would have to work harder. She had been branding him - holy words and symbols, ways to set him free from the sin he had been born with. She loved him fiercely, and without him, she would have been dead. Misery was still thin - her body would never be full and fleshy, it simply didn't suit her.
MISERYHer body was ghostly white with streaky patches of pale silver now. Her 'hair' that fell in a messy dread locked tangle from her head was still the color of ink. The symbol of chimera stood crisp on her shoulder. She had taken to wearing a loose pair of black pants and a matching shirt - she often got cold, the clothing helped keep her warm. A knife was kept tied around her waist, hidden beneath the shirt that swallowed up her torso. A long walking stick - carved with intricate care,symbols of the Khalif, a masterpiece of woodwork was tied to her back. They had acquired horses - Misery's was a black stallion she had named Solomon. He was good and steady on his feet, and made the traveling far more easy for the crippled woman. Larkspur was good about those kind of things. She would save him, and he? He would take care of her.
MISERYThe natural order of things had fallen back into place. She was lonely no more. For a moment, those fever bright gold-green eyes closed, and on the breeze she heard a whisper. Misery...go home. Her King, her dark dragon whispering all in her mind. Everything was back to how it should be. A soft laugh escaped her, barely audible. Oh, she listened to Damian often, but now was not the time. Home had burned to the ground. This place held promise, a new adventure. They would stay here for now, her and the beautiful boy she now had. All would be well. "Not yet, Damian, my love, not yet." Larkspur would not bat an eye - she spoke to him often.
MISERYMisery was old. There was a dull and unpleasant ache in her joints when the weather turned sour. Her leg hurt constantly, endlessly. She had taken to smoking weed again - only when the pain got unbearable. She had found a new medication, a new release. Poe had been lost to her, drifting always out of reach. She loved her girl but the child was gone now. Misery simply knew. Then there was Samhain, her beautiful ghost. Gone too. Damian, her love for her Crimson King had turned her son away. Damian's children, the flesh and blood incarnation of their union...oh how dark and terrible they had been. Beautiful Jude with his bloody eyes, lost to the river. Rift, timid, sweet boy. A nail through the skull. Meth, madness and sickness oh, how she had burned. Blessed be Corona, Ahren's golden girl.
MISERYPsyhke, Damien, Zadkiel, Nox, Cerulean...lost now. She had set them free. Left them to wander in new lands. It was better that way. She loved them dearly, they needed to be away from her. Anzu's blood had set them free. Gin was lost, still in Europe. She hoped he was safe. Loneliness had gotten so close to claiming her, but these days it was all better. Larkspur, her beautiful boy. The most devout child - and she considered him as such, he was everything to her - was her constant companion. He had been birthed by her younger sister, Hollow. A beautiful boy of inky fur and orange eyes. She let her gold-green eyes flicker to him as she regarded the strong, strapping boy with a grin. The mad fever lingered in her eyes - it seemed to never go away now. She was saving him. She would purify him, and save him. He was her last chance at redemption.
MISERYAnzu had been a mistake. A beautiful man of black and white coat and eyes that burned like fire. When he held her, when he spoke, when he was close, Damian's whispering voice in her ear grew quiet. It was nice to have the silence. So she had loved him, in a hollow and unsettling way. But as with all the others she had loved since her Crimson King had been taken - she had killed him. Adder by her own hands, Hollow had died too, they would all die. Anzu had been a trade. A stranger for family - for her pretty little Lark. When they had descended the cold and frigid mountain...she imagined she could hear him screaming. The Gods were hungry, he would make a fine meal.
MISERYThe bleaching had turned his fur orange for now. They would have to work harder. She had been branding him - holy words and symbols, ways to set him free from the sin he had been born with. She loved him fiercely, and without him, she would have been dead. Misery was still thin - her body would never be full and fleshy, it simply didn't suit her.
MISERYHer body was ghostly white with streaky patches of pale silver now. Her 'hair' that fell in a messy dread locked tangle from her head was still the color of ink. The symbol of chimera stood crisp on her shoulder. She had taken to wearing a loose pair of black pants and a matching shirt - she often got cold, the clothing helped keep her warm. A knife was kept tied around her waist, hidden beneath the shirt that swallowed up her torso. A long walking stick - carved with intricate care,symbols of the Khalif, a masterpiece of woodwork was tied to her back. They had acquired horses - Misery's was a black stallion she had named Solomon. He was good and steady on his feet, and made the traveling far more easy for the crippled woman. Larkspur was good about those kind of things. She would save him, and he? He would take care of her.
MISERYThe natural order of things had fallen back into place. She was lonely no more. For a moment, those fever bright gold-green eyes closed, and on the breeze she heard a whisper. Misery...go home. Her King, her dark dragon whispering all in her mind. Everything was back to how it should be. A soft laugh escaped her, barely audible. Oh, she listened to Damian often, but now was not the time. Home had burned to the ground. This place held promise, a new adventure. They would stay here for now, her and the beautiful boy she now had. All would be well. "Not yet, Damian, my love, not yet." Larkspur would not bat an eye - she spoke to him often.
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