06-02-2020, 09:42 PM
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<center>
<div class="demon_container">
<p class="demon_quote">I've seen devils, i've seen saints <br> I've seen the line between them fade</p>
<div class="demon_message">
I lay sleeping, fitful and alone. My mother is gone again, and I don't know when she'll be back. Longer and longer leaves me, and I know one day it will be the last time. My stomach aches and whines even when I'm not aware of it, my body hungry for nourishment it receives far too little of. Instead I dream, and dreams let me escape my reality.
I dream of stars and storms. Of flying like my mother, free of the earth. Or slipping beneath the water like she does, to the cool and quiet of the deep river. Places she goes because she knows I can't follow, and that's all I want to do. My mother is beautiful, and powerful, and I'm a stone about her neck. If I were more like her, maybe she would want me then.
Unknown to my sleeping senses, a mischievous wind blows. It carries dust, simple dust, from high on the mountain's peak. It does not sparkle or glow or anything unusual, but when the wind carries it to my little bed of tall grasses, it's power is made known. My coat, unkempt and raggedy, draws the fine particles like iron to lodestone. Where it touches it burns.
My coat, solid and inky dark reacts aggressively to the fey dust. It ignites and crackles softly in lichtenburg lines, branching and spreading until I glow in electric pulses. My heartbeat, made visual. Lightning, made tame. I snort in my sleep. Kick erratically at my dreams.
When I wake, i will be that much closer to my mother. And it will still not be enough.
</div>
<br><br><p class="demon_name">TARTE</p>
<div class="demon_gradient"></div>
<img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/0f/ab/76/0fab7694f9aa7481ca875744a6c16bb2.jpg">
</div>
</center>
OOC: Tarte now has Lightning Markings, were carried now expressed <3
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<div class="demon_container">
<p class="demon_quote">I've seen devils, i've seen saints <br> I've seen the line between them fade</p>
<div class="demon_message">
I lay sleeping, fitful and alone. My mother is gone again, and I don't know when she'll be back. Longer and longer leaves me, and I know one day it will be the last time. My stomach aches and whines even when I'm not aware of it, my body hungry for nourishment it receives far too little of. Instead I dream, and dreams let me escape my reality.
I dream of stars and storms. Of flying like my mother, free of the earth. Or slipping beneath the water like she does, to the cool and quiet of the deep river. Places she goes because she knows I can't follow, and that's all I want to do. My mother is beautiful, and powerful, and I'm a stone about her neck. If I were more like her, maybe she would want me then.
Unknown to my sleeping senses, a mischievous wind blows. It carries dust, simple dust, from high on the mountain's peak. It does not sparkle or glow or anything unusual, but when the wind carries it to my little bed of tall grasses, it's power is made known. My coat, unkempt and raggedy, draws the fine particles like iron to lodestone. Where it touches it burns.
My coat, solid and inky dark reacts aggressively to the fey dust. It ignites and crackles softly in lichtenburg lines, branching and spreading until I glow in electric pulses. My heartbeat, made visual. Lightning, made tame. I snort in my sleep. Kick erratically at my dreams.
When I wake, i will be that much closer to my mother. And it will still not be enough.
</div>
<br><br><p class="demon_name">TARTE</p>
<div class="demon_gradient"></div>
<img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/0f/ab/76/0fab7694f9aa7481ca875744a6c16bb2.jpg">
</div>
</center>
OOC: Tarte now has Lightning Markings, were carried now expressed <3