05-20-2010, 09:23 PM
This is definitely open for you, Mel, if you want to join. Also all welcome and all that jazz. *LURES WITH GOODIES* Set midday, at Hades' Beach.
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Here she was again, sitting on a sea-worn log, watching the waves roll across the shore. There was a line of prints leading to where she was now, imprinting deep grooves in the otherwise pristine sands. The tide had rolled in a few hours ago and swept away the imperfections. Leaving a blank, flat slate behind. She was the artist; the anarchist who came through with her carefully destructive grace to ruin all that the ocean worked to erase. But as before, and as would always be, the tides would swell with the moon, and wash away any trace of her ever being here. For now, she was an observer of this cycle; a keen pair of ruby eyes cast out across the undulating blue of the ocean. Her legs were stretched out across the sun warmed sand, and her hands toyed idly with the fragment of a shell. But her mind was elsewhere, even beyond the ocean itself.
It had been three days since she'd returned to Inferni, and the distractions of settling in and acclimating herself to clan life were all but finished. The only thing that was left for her mind to wrap around was Gabriel. The slight woman had not seen hide, nor hair of him, since her arrival, and it was beginning to slowly eat away at her resolve. Surely, by happenstance or otherwise, they would have run into each other by now; Jezebel certainly didn't make a habit of being a recluse, after all. And with her residing in one of the clan's residential hubs, it was unlikely that he would not be found there every once in a while.
Maybe she was just hoping he would come to her. Maybe she'd been hoping that everything would still be alright. Maybe she was a fool after all.
Shaken out of her thoughts by her bereft heart, her ears flattened themselves into her obsidian tresses, and her trailed down to the shell that she was smoothing between her fingers. It was broken, presumably by the waves, or a careless foot, but the beauty remained. The outside was a pale peach color, accented with bands of darker red, and the inside still retained the opalescent sheen that reflected whenever the light caught it. A natural hole was punched through the top of it, begging to be strung through and added to the cross around her neck. Or even given as a gift. But it was only one half of a whole, and she had no way of knowing where the other half was, or if it even existed as a perfect half. The ocean was relentless as it was beautiful, and it was likely that whatever forces broke this bit off, shattered the rest into unrecoverable pieces. It was a pretty thing, sure, but it failed to push a smile through her tight expression.
She dropped it in the sand between her legs, and closed her eyes. Quietly, calmly, listening to the rolling thunder of the waves.
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504+
Here she was again, sitting on a sea-worn log, watching the waves roll across the shore. There was a line of prints leading to where she was now, imprinting deep grooves in the otherwise pristine sands. The tide had rolled in a few hours ago and swept away the imperfections. Leaving a blank, flat slate behind. She was the artist; the anarchist who came through with her carefully destructive grace to ruin all that the ocean worked to erase. But as before, and as would always be, the tides would swell with the moon, and wash away any trace of her ever being here. For now, she was an observer of this cycle; a keen pair of ruby eyes cast out across the undulating blue of the ocean. Her legs were stretched out across the sun warmed sand, and her hands toyed idly with the fragment of a shell. But her mind was elsewhere, even beyond the ocean itself.
It had been three days since she'd returned to Inferni, and the distractions of settling in and acclimating herself to clan life were all but finished. The only thing that was left for her mind to wrap around was Gabriel. The slight woman had not seen hide, nor hair of him, since her arrival, and it was beginning to slowly eat away at her resolve. Surely, by happenstance or otherwise, they would have run into each other by now; Jezebel certainly didn't make a habit of being a recluse, after all. And with her residing in one of the clan's residential hubs, it was unlikely that he would not be found there every once in a while.
Maybe she was just hoping he would come to her. Maybe she'd been hoping that everything would still be alright. Maybe she was a fool after all.
Shaken out of her thoughts by her bereft heart, her ears flattened themselves into her obsidian tresses, and her trailed down to the shell that she was smoothing between her fingers. It was broken, presumably by the waves, or a careless foot, but the beauty remained. The outside was a pale peach color, accented with bands of darker red, and the inside still retained the opalescent sheen that reflected whenever the light caught it. A natural hole was punched through the top of it, begging to be strung through and added to the cross around her neck. Or even given as a gift. But it was only one half of a whole, and she had no way of knowing where the other half was, or if it even existed as a perfect half. The ocean was relentless as it was beautiful, and it was likely that whatever forces broke this bit off, shattered the rest into unrecoverable pieces. It was a pretty thing, sure, but it failed to push a smile through her tight expression.
She dropped it in the sand between her legs, and closed her eyes. Quietly, calmly, listening to the rolling thunder of the waves.