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my, my simple sir, this ain't gonna work
mind my wicked words and tipsy topsy slurs i can't take this place, no i can't take this place i just wanna go where i can get some space She was going to make a map of Helovia, she decided. Not a physical map; but one she'd have full, private access to in her head.
Well, in a little bit, that is. A sea of thistle in lavish shades of stately mauve, as far as the eye could see, bobs gently in the evening breeze that slowly drains away the day's heat. Evening has come to descend upon the meadow, the sinking sun dragging the indigo blanket of dusk down across the horizon. A few remote planets blaze in the sky, scattered like dice, while jagged clouds glow violently in reds and yellows. Deep shadows are becoming norm, transforming into darkness. Imonada stood amidst it all, taking in the beauty; admiring the way the falling light turned each bloom incandescent, feeling so bleak in comparison, belonging in the colorless world of night. It smelled damp and cool over cloying sweetness of the flowers, a faint promise of rain. Quiet, with only the chirp of crickets to fill the air, she can hear her thoughts much too loud.
She's on the move again, silky and slender, cutting through the field with a stroll; the flickering embers of fireflies reflect green along her black figure as she passes by. Bent reeds in the distance lead her closer, as does the murmur of the river's northern tine. Lovely crimson Cobra's Tongue would be there, hidden among the cattails like little treasures left just for her to find. She could almost taste its bitter, spicy flavor upon her tongue; could almost see the brilliant kaleidoscope the world would come in, fractals of reality. It didn't take her long nosing along the bank, scouring its edges like a bloodhound, for her to come upon a cluster with petals bright and inviting. She takes one, savoring it, the characteristic burn searing her mouth as she chews it, before holding it under her tongue to absorb the chemicals quickly.
It starts with a buzz inside her skull that radiates outward, toward the rest of her body. Then euphoria that makes her feel like she was flying --she remembered doing it once, when she was young, the one attempt that led to her accident and crippling-- instead of simply desiring to, a strange confidence taking hold. Everything around her shrinks away, the electric power coursing through her veins blurring the ache in her wing, giving her a muscle-melting pleasure that could not be replicated elsewhere than in this dimension the Cobra takes her to. It soothes her troubled soul, puts the pieces back together again, and swaddles her with a touch of divinity. True to her hopes, the twilight pops with radiant hues and she can feel the earth breathing through her.
Somehow she finds herself lying among the clover and weeds, watching the river, neon-blue and glittering to her, lazily roll by.
truth be told
i've been here, i've done this all before i take your gloom i curl it up and puff it into plumes |
@Naerys and anyone else!
elizabeth: you're not telling us everything.
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.
--blacklist
force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please
![[Image: a0jmns.png]](http://i68.tinypic.com/a0jmns.png)
line art by jennyleigh
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.
--blacklist
force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please
line art by jennyleigh
