11-08-2017, 04:49 PM
Ellyse
I have the tendency of getting very physical,
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
The quiet and solace of the ravenous, frothing tide is almost enough to chase the shadow of darkness away from her single eye – the golden flecks hidden within jade grim with a sullen dimness. The celestial starlight rippling over each crashing wave along the dark, blackness of the sand gives her an escape – a way to look beyond the tortuous memories, the anguish, the loss. Staring blankly ahead, she is soon lost in the low-lying haze drifting slowly along the shoreline, birthed by the pluming volcano rumbling in the distance. Her feathers lay neatly preened along each carefully tucked wing, bristling as the soft caress of the salty ocean breeze brushes over the length of her body, stirring her draping forelock of ivory away from her sunken, empty eye socket.
Time had been unkind to her, wrenching love from her twice (or what had seemed like love – she, ever the foolish one, had been deceived twice into believing she deserved any such thing). It had been cruel to her, plucking her eye from its socket, leaving her barren, vulnerable, exposed. It had been caustic, giving her the innate ability to draw diamond to the surface of her skin for protection – as Dahmer wore a diamond brand across his forehead, gifted with raven-shifting – the very avian creature that had tried to peck her to pieces.
The irony is not lost on her – she is reminded of it each time she searches the depth of his piercing blue eyes, and he is reminded of it each time the diamond gleams along the gold beneath. Forever a reminder of the hell each had been through at the hands of a ruthless, merciless and malevolent God – Tangerine was not the only one who had suffered; the nightmares never seemed to end.
She is not lost to her own thoughts for long. There is a soft, irregular rhythm cutting through the stifling tension of the humidity looming over the island, and for a moment, her heart is heavy. The sound is unfamiliar, and jarring, not unlike the crackling, flicking magma of the fire wolves that had taken her and Dahmer from their volcanic domicile months ago. Instinctively, the diamond is drawn from somewhere deep within, plating itself heavily over the surface of her spine and spreading out like glistening wildfire across her shoulders and down beneath the arch of each wing. All the while, her eye is searching – glaring into the darkness, but what she does see is not at all what she expected to find.
Draped in navy and falling from the starlight where his mind and heart had always seemed to linger came Warrick – lacking grace, but her heart is immensely heavy with pride that he no longer shied away from the power and prowess of his wingspan. Plucking at misplaced feathers, just as she had done to him so long ago, the weariness and dread seemingly melt away from her at the sight of him, though the sheath of diamond armor clutches still to her, weighing her down as her muscled legs carry her to him.
”Warrick,” she breathes when she is near enough to him for him to hear her, and her heart could not be more full at the sight of him – well, whole. ”you’ve come home.”
She does not hesitate, colliding her breast to his shoulder as her cheek brushes across his own, ivory feathers mingling with indigo, while the familiar scent of dogwood, of saltbush envelope her. It reminds her of the many sunsets spent alongside him while the seafoam lapped hungrily at their legs, staining their skin with the salty brine of the sea; it reminds her of simpler times – of times when she lacked the weight of Death upon her shoulders. Her chest is filled with the warmth of his presence, with the strength of a bond fortified and only made stronger by the time and distance placed in between them.
When she does draw back to consider his eyes, she remembers the emptiness in her own – that only one is staring back at him; that she is not whole at all anymore. A soft smile touches the corner of her mouth, as her lips warmly brush over her cheek, until the plane of her nose is pressed to his – welcoming him home; welcoming him to where he had always belonged.
”You look well,” she muses, almost facetiously, knowing that she, herself, does not. ”and Tangerine?” she inquires, searching his masculine features, seeing the light within his own gaze. ”So much has changed while you’ve been gone. We’ve missed you.”
I’ve missed you.
Her dearest friend.
Time had been unkind to her, wrenching love from her twice (or what had seemed like love – she, ever the foolish one, had been deceived twice into believing she deserved any such thing). It had been cruel to her, plucking her eye from its socket, leaving her barren, vulnerable, exposed. It had been caustic, giving her the innate ability to draw diamond to the surface of her skin for protection – as Dahmer wore a diamond brand across his forehead, gifted with raven-shifting – the very avian creature that had tried to peck her to pieces.
The irony is not lost on her – she is reminded of it each time she searches the depth of his piercing blue eyes, and he is reminded of it each time the diamond gleams along the gold beneath. Forever a reminder of the hell each had been through at the hands of a ruthless, merciless and malevolent God – Tangerine was not the only one who had suffered; the nightmares never seemed to end.
She is not lost to her own thoughts for long. There is a soft, irregular rhythm cutting through the stifling tension of the humidity looming over the island, and for a moment, her heart is heavy. The sound is unfamiliar, and jarring, not unlike the crackling, flicking magma of the fire wolves that had taken her and Dahmer from their volcanic domicile months ago. Instinctively, the diamond is drawn from somewhere deep within, plating itself heavily over the surface of her spine and spreading out like glistening wildfire across her shoulders and down beneath the arch of each wing. All the while, her eye is searching – glaring into the darkness, but what she does see is not at all what she expected to find.
Draped in navy and falling from the starlight where his mind and heart had always seemed to linger came Warrick – lacking grace, but her heart is immensely heavy with pride that he no longer shied away from the power and prowess of his wingspan. Plucking at misplaced feathers, just as she had done to him so long ago, the weariness and dread seemingly melt away from her at the sight of him, though the sheath of diamond armor clutches still to her, weighing her down as her muscled legs carry her to him.
”Warrick,” she breathes when she is near enough to him for him to hear her, and her heart could not be more full at the sight of him – well, whole. ”you’ve come home.”
She does not hesitate, colliding her breast to his shoulder as her cheek brushes across his own, ivory feathers mingling with indigo, while the familiar scent of dogwood, of saltbush envelope her. It reminds her of the many sunsets spent alongside him while the seafoam lapped hungrily at their legs, staining their skin with the salty brine of the sea; it reminds her of simpler times – of times when she lacked the weight of Death upon her shoulders. Her chest is filled with the warmth of his presence, with the strength of a bond fortified and only made stronger by the time and distance placed in between them.
When she does draw back to consider his eyes, she remembers the emptiness in her own – that only one is staring back at him; that she is not whole at all anymore. A soft smile touches the corner of her mouth, as her lips warmly brush over her cheek, until the plane of her nose is pressed to his – welcoming him home; welcoming him to where he had always belonged.
”You look well,” she muses, almost facetiously, knowing that she, herself, does not. ”and Tangerine?” she inquires, searching his masculine features, seeing the light within his own gaze. ”So much has changed while you’ve been gone. We’ve missed you.”
I’ve missed you.
Her dearest friend.
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone;
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
@[Warrick]