"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.
There is a softness to her that the world lacks, a loveliness that is ethereal and impossible to explain. She is the gentle trickle of rain, the soft brush of grass on an ankle, the tender caress of a summer breeze. Something that is both almost imperceptible and necessary.
The world needs such tenderness like it needs the darkness.
So there is Rapture, still young and sweet and innocent. A wisp of blue and white in the shadows of the trees.
She probably should not be here, and most definitely not alone, but there is a draw to this place. Something that had pulled her from her safe little corner of Nerine into the huge, wide world. But the forest at least is safe in its obscurity. There are nooks and crannies, hollows and divots in which she can easily hide. She is not brave like her brother. Like her mother and father. She enjoys her quiet life, the still and calm of monotony. They, her family, are predators (her brother in quite a literal sense). And she, she is not.
She is a violet, not weak or fainting, but quietly unobtrusive in a shy, lovely way.
But still, she is here, out of her depths in the unfamiliar. All because something of this forest had spoken to her.
05-03-2017, 04:33 PM (This post was last modified: 05-03-2017, 04:34 PM by Sinner.)
go to hell for heaven's sake
He is very much the opposite.
There is a darkness within him, entangling his soul. He is the dark monsters that hide within the shadows of the night. He is the ethereal and elements that fill this world with chaotic and destructive entities. Something that is both part of this world and the one beyond in. He is the very essence of hell itself, and all those that are enslaved and kept there.
In the darkness of the forest, he is in familiar territory. The darkness harbors him like a mother and child cling to one another of love and all good things in this world. The way the mother holds her child is the very same way the darkness holds her monsters. He is precious and favored above many with a purpose already stitched within the chapters of his life.
He is tainted with a message, bounded to create dismay and ruin.
And then there is she, a bright blue light within the darkness of the forest. She is familiar, but distant at the same time. It is as if their kind have met before but have not. Then again, their kinds have met many times before. The battle between good and evil, the entangling with the two opposites that then become one.
The dark boy is drawn to her. It is not attraction, but simply how out place she is here in the darkness. A light that should not be here—a spark of goodness within the dark woods of malevolent.
“Aren’t you afraid?” He asks in the shadows of the forest, breaking the eerie silence that she perhaps had listened to as well. The boy steps out behind a couple of trees that are tightly held together. A soft smirk begins to curl up on his sinister features. Naturally, he cannot help but smile when he is about to be a little mischief. It comes naturally to be who and what he wants to be.
Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.
Without light, the darkness means nothing. The shadows dance and play about her, tricksters and ghouls who play servant to the dark. But they would not exist without light to grant them their presence. She is needed as much as he is.
The only difference is that she does not know her impact. She knows nothing of what she could mean to the world, and she cares even less. She is yet a child, and children do not bother with such things.
And so, even though she should, she does not fear. She cannot fear what she does not know. Just as he is drawn to her, she is drawn to him. Polar opposites, two ends of a magnet.
Though she does not expect him to be there, his sudden words, followed by his dark form melting from the trees does not startle her. Turning, her wide, guileless blue gaze shifts to settle upon him, lips tugging into a thoughtful frown as she considers the question. “Why should I be afraid?”
Her bright eyes turn to consider the surrounding trees, her body at ease, relaxed in a way only those with no worries can be. For she has no reason to worry, to fear. Not the gentle, cosseted child that she is. Not yet, at least.
