[html] mall-caps;color:#ffffff;line-height:7px;font-size:10px;">She looks so pretty that it's such a pity
That she won't be needing help for this beating.
_____The sky was a stark white, stretching endless before blurring in the distance where it meet with the pale expanse of the snowy land. Dark trees, dead and bare twisted up from the earth like deathly, skeletal hands, clawing at the sky with thin, gnarled fingers. Seated sedately beneath one such tree, a glossy, jet-black feather turning and twisting between equally shadow-kissed fingers, Kezia watched the skies with mild interest. Crows and ravens littered the heavens, cawing and crooning to one another in their hollow voices, circling the blank landscape like dark omens. Lips parted, voice quietly whispering a sound that was swept away into the wind, lost to the chorus of corvids.
_____"One for sorrow, two for mirth," she recited, mouth curved with a smile that contained anything but happiness. "Three for a wedding, four for a birth. Five for silver, six for gold." A raven perched in a branch above her head, regarding the dark girl with one beady eye, heavy beak parting to let loose a curious cry to it's brothers. "Seven for a secret, never to be told," she finished, eyes casting upward to gaze back at the avian. The feather in her fingers suddenly tore away from her grasp, distraction loosening her hold. Hand closed spasmodically, but it was already gone, twisting away on the wind to destination unknown. Wrinkling her muzzle, she turned back to the raven, baring her teeth in mock anger at the creature — who merely stared back with bored indifference. [/html]
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You write so beautifully! 
He was more than ready for winter to dissolve into spring, the one season he had yet to experience. He was tired of the endlessly white landscape and the persistent cold. Kansas wasn’t sure if he even remembered anything but cold… the summer was so long ago, and he’d been very small at that time. Ames le la Mort did nothing to soothe him – in fact, he had no idea why he had chosen to travel there, of all places. The area was barren and empty, with dead trees and large snowdrifts. He couldn’t have picked somewhere more dreary to pay a visit to.
He was still getting used to walking on two legs – it wasn’t difficult, just different. And far less efficient than walking on four. But he had hands, and he couldn’t stop fidgeting, even while he moved. His eyes lit upon a shadowy figure propped against a tree, raven-black and beautiful. She was twiddling a feather in her slender fingers, before it suddenly flew away on the wind. Kansas approached the girl and bird, more interested in the former. Her smile was dark – not exactly sinister, but nowhere near upbeat. “Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, trying to make eye contact.
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[html] mall-caps;color:#ffffff;line-height:7px;font-size:10px;">I want to see the look in her eyes,
when her body parts ways with life.
[aw, thanks. ;; you too! <3]
_____Julian was whispering in her ear. Heard turning, she could just see him out of the corner of her eye before he faded into nothing — a ghostly figure of jet and ash, eyes dark and hollow, filled with a burning flame that resembled nothing less than hellfire. He'd been quiet for so long she'd almost thought he'd moved on, but she knew better. They never leave. He'd had a body once, but it'd been stolen away, casting him out to remain as nothing more than a shadow. There'd been good in him once, but it'd been corrupted, poisoning him and turning him into a monster, soulless and demonic, left now only to haunt the girl who'd once believed in him. There was the crunch of snow beneath paws quite mortal and gold eyes shifted their attention, finding a boy approaching. He spoke tentatively, blue eyes searching out hers and it was a moment before she gave any reaction.
_____She'd never been much a fan of children. Perhaps an irony, or perhaps a given with the sins she'd committed now a thousand years ago. Hands stained with blood, true nature wasn't given a chance to reveal itself when she froze and immediately presented a mask, barring herself behind a brick wall too thick and steep to climb. But she always wore a mask. She was nothing more than a china-doll, face painted with a smile and delicate features reminiscent of an angel, yet there was nothing inside. No essence or being held behind those deep gold eyes. Born without a soul, or stolen by a demon, even she herself could no longer remember anymore.
_____"Yes," she said quietly, returning the boy's gaze beneath a veil of dark hair, blown astray by the wind. He wasn't so much a child as an adult, and thus perhaps a creature she could necessarily not ignore. Was it the innocence of children she despised, so new to the world and untainted, unknowing of the darkness they'd soon face? Or because they were so pliable and easily corrupted, becoming anything another so chose to mold them into. Either way, she remained distant from the creature, regarding him with little more than a curious indifference as he stood before her. [/html]
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Sorry for the wait; my friend was visiting from Virginia, and I couldn’t get on long enough to post.
Her eyes seemed to wander; it was apparent that she’d seen something. He automatically turned around and looked for whatever she’d been eyeing – he had a feeling, however, that he would not see it himself. There was something about her stare that gave him an eerie feeling, and his stomach did a summersault. Usually, this happened when he thought a girl was pretty (and this was true of her), but more so, he was slightly unsettled. This would prove to be the first encounter he had with a less-than-friendly wolf, and he didn’t know whether he was interested or afraid. Maybe a little of both.
She gave him one word for an answer, which wasn’t much to work from. He hated being the one to make conversation; he was bad at it. He wasn’t smooth, like some wolves were. He frowned a little, thinking hard about how to engage her. Sadly, engaging others was not one of Kansas’ talents. He stayed where he was, his tail still, his hands moving involuntarily before his chest. How awkward. “Uh…” he began. “What are you doing out here?”
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[html] I want to see the look in her eyes,
when her body parts ways with life.
Kezia Havok_____He'd followed her gaze, searching for what she'd seen when vision had sought out the spectre. Lips twisting with a faint smile, she shook her head softly. "You won't see him," she said quietly, referring to the ghost that haunted the edges of her vision. The creature that once was but would never be again, save a shadow in her memory. Fingers brushed through her hair, pushing locks back from where the wind blew them into her face and eyes. The boy seemed increasingly awkward, as though trying so hard to engage conversation, but finding himself painfully unable. How sad. She almost pitied the child. The girl could care less about company or not. It was rare she honestly tried to engage with other living things, and when she did, there was usually some motive. Or simply boredom. Either way, love and kindness were ideals long since forgotten—fairy-tale memories of childhood when things were still simple and easy. _____"Conversing with ghosts from the past," Kezia replied, grin widening until the edges of pale fangs slipped past her lips. He'd think her mad, for sure, but who's to say she wasn't? Sane people didn't see dead people. "What are you doing out here? Far from home, aren't we?" she asked, leaning back again against the tree behind her. Of course, she didn't know the boy's home wasn't actually that far from here. But for a rogue gypsy the smell on his coat was the same as any wolf pack's—and she didn't belong, or care to belong to any of them. [/html]
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Her words made sense to him almost immediately. There had to have been something there that his eyes would never find, from the way she’d been gazing in that direction with such meaning. Having never met an “insane” individual, he didn’t look too far past the fact that she could just see ghosts… perhaps it was just another ability that some had, like how Naniko could heal almost anything. Seeing dead people did seem a bit out there, however… he didn’t know how he felt about it, aside from being a bit weirded-out.
He was, of course, very happy she was talking to him. He didn’t want to make a complete idiot of himself by just standing there, spouting off random attempts at making conversation. Her question was a little confusing; he really wasn’t more than a few miles from the border of Storm. But he didn’t want to sound confrontational. “I’ve never been here before. It’s… interesting.” He paused, before blurting, “Did you know him? The ghost you saw?” Damn his curiosity.
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[html]  http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v105/ ... 2fab4a.png) bottom right no-repeat #0D0D0B; color:#fff; border:4px solid black; filter:alpha(opacity=80); -moz-opacity:0.8; width:325px; padding:5px; padding-bottom: 15px; margin:-55px auto 0 auto;" align=justify> Her smile lingered long after he'd spoken, saying nothing otherwise. It was no longer the amused smile of moments earlier, but rather it seemed to collapse in on itself, showing but a faux expression meant to cover up what was truly inside. But what was inside? Nothing at all, for sure. Gaze was cold, but not angry at the child for his curiosity. All children were curious—she couldn't blame him for that. But it was another attribute of the young that she couldn't stand. So innocent and wondering, seeking to see the world by the only way they knew: asking and seeing and touching to see what was.
She closed her eyes a moment, as though trying to blot out the image of the spectre before she spoke. "He was my brother," she stated simply, before laughing faintly. Brother indeed. They shared no blood save distant ties, but they'd been closer than any family could of been. The scar on her wrist showed where they'd tried to make their "sibling" ties true, mixing their blood so they'd truly be one. Until he changed. Until the madness consumed him like a malignant disease, stealing away her brother and leaving behind but a soulless demon, casting her pseudo-sibling from his mortal cage and taking possession of his flesh and blood.
He was dead. He was dead, yet not gone. His body still walked and talked and moved, but it was no longer Jules who pulled the marionette's strings. Julian now lived only in her head, haunting her as the ghostly shadow that no one else could see, creeping in and out of the edges of her vision, smiling the hollow smile of the amused undead. Gaze opened, peering up again at the boy, searching for his reaction, yet fearing any show of sympathy or pity on his part for what she'd inferred. [/html]
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