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05-16-2014, 11:26 PM
CIRCUTA these words are knives and often leave scars the fear of falling apart, truth be told i never was yours They had been seared, charred and scorched— spat at by a insolent childe, irritable and passionate, determined to reach the clutches of her drunken Prince to whom she had so eloped with, and when the ashes had settled and the rains had washed away the damnable flames, when the childe was dragged away by a Empress swathed in cardinal, to be kept as a pricy varmint, she had woven her hymns, her tamed song, sympathetic and warm, callous and ire beneath the frothing surface, as the brine upon a stormy eve. She had beckoned them to come alongside her, promised mending and treatment for their ailments, surgeons and physicians, trodding yet deeper into her kingdom, weaving saccharine, ambrosial lyrics as she goes. "Most interlopers are not like what you have seen today. The acrimony you saw today does not exist within each vagabond girl in Loorien." The Nightingale pauses, allowing the passionate violet of her spheres to rest upon each in turn, grim, yet not unpleasant. "You may have mellowed and yielding bosoms— I would do well to remind you that a lame leg will always yank you down in warfare. The world is not made of fresh buds and young babes, and union or concord is a goal for which we are meant to strive for, but you should not allow it to become your handicap." With this, she glides her gaze to search for Ciceron, under the presumption he would have trailed behind as well, although her vocals were still aimed at the group as a whole. "If a adversary wishes to gut you, a cordial word will not stop them from ripping apart the very walls you have carved. I digress, however." Stretching her dome upwards and away, she heightens her hymns into a cry, rejuvenation and sewing, recovery and emends, alabaster and rosy lips, convalescence and fixing, prowling at the head of the party as a pious wolf, jagged fangs concealed beneath a attire of a sheep, deeming harsh intuitions and benevolent brushes, to aid wilted flowers and damaged goods. "Menders! We have injured in need of aid. Come forth!"
This will be my only post for this thread, so sorry for the lack of inspiration this post heralds!
@[Kiara], @[Ciceron], @[Abishia], @[Fraub] |
Cause she's a Cruel Mistress
And a bargain must be made
ღ
