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Post by riika on Dec 28, 2005 21:01:12 GMT -5
The alabaster femme silently made her way into the land. Her grimm footsteps were muffled by the damp grass; still wet with the dew from the morning rain. Yet, none could be do to sielnce the gleam of her pelt- dancing around through the sun. Her orbs were set ablaze with interest as she gazed across the new areas. Bending her nape, she reached her dial to the sky, and let out a shrill cry, telling all stags that she was there, and waiting for a stag to take her and give her a dwelling. Her banner flicked lazily, as she pawed the ground impatiently with her ivory plates. Yes, she had to admit to herself- patient she was not. Letting out a small snort to herself, she brought her head down to graze. Yet, that quickly lost her attention, as she lifted her ears into the air, like giant solar plates, listening for a call of recognition to come falling back to her.
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Rebel
New Member
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Post by Rebel on Dec 28, 2005 21:05:43 GMT -5
She screams at the walls closing in,
as she hits them fiercely with her fist.
she pulls her hair hoping to fall again,
suicide seems to have taken a twist.
Alabaster corpse stood, held up by feathered pinions. Harks perked at the song coming from another vagabond. Kräfte Mörder embarked through the charred vinals surrounding him. Auds swivled to pick up the sound again. Twin pools saw the lithe form of the temptress at the edge of the wood.
Her stomach is covered in bruises
from her care takers resented love
as she looks at the bared windows
wishing she can fly away like a dove
Hellion approched the wicked fae, serpentine curved in a graceful arch. Amber oids came to rest 'pon the bruja as labrums parted to let forth his own demonotic song.
'Tidings, dove. Will you speak your curse for me?
Hellish tune was spoken to the lobes of the ebon jezebell infront of his physic.
She has blood stained on her legs
her innocence stolen from her grasp
curled up against the walls corners
waiting for the pain to finally past.
Obsidians dug into the hardened topography as he awaited the vixen's return of vocals.
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Post by riika on Dec 29, 2005 0:04:43 GMT -5
The femme stared wearily at the new stag, her nape rounded as she slowly took a few steps closer, but quickly stopped her movement. "Acantha, and yourself, m'lord?" She asked. Her tone seemed bland, little emotion seeking from it. Yet her orbs danced vividly, as if all the emotion missing from her voice could be hidden in her eyes. Yet as she spoke, a slight accent came from her words, making it clear that she was not from here. She bowed her dial in respect to the stag, a gust of wind flowing her banner through the air. As she looked up, she stared at him, waiting for the next movement. That was all she needed. A mild vice of his personality, and she would feel more comfortable, having a clearer idea of the stag's personality. And, if he were to claim here, if she would enjoy dwelling in his lands.
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Rebel
New Member
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Post by Rebel on Dec 30, 2005 15:22:44 GMT -5
the night's taunting
my solitude grave
no one's screaming
everyone's a slave
Charcoal stained corpse shifed slightly as the words of the ebon jezebel reached his lobes.
My curse is Kräfte Mörder.
Cranium was dipped to the ground, then raised back to the heavens.
tormenting prophecy
with every step i turn
lost in misery
caused my spirit to burn
Curvature was arched elegently as kissers parted once more.
Spit your path, Acantha. Mine would be of the Darkest.
the circus will weep
when i kill all the clowns
the curse that i reap
when i stole all the clowns
The gaze or russet spheres was cast 'pon the fae. Her colouring was of ebon, but was her heart to match?
sleeping in silence
killing all my thoughts
building an alliance
with the lonely corpse
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