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12-02-2012, 10:57 AM
KEAHI
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Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Händen, Kann verbrennen kann euch blenden
The frequency of their encounters lately has been increasing. The ebon sinner finds herself compelled to seek Him out more often, perhaps it is the aftermath of their separation, or perhaps it is for entirely different reasons. However, as she steps upon the veins today, she does so with joy and expectation. Finally it is the time to be rewarded for the deeds she fulfilled so long ago; finally her Heavenly Father has been reinstated in His rightful place. But there is also fear within her, for once this has passed, her errands to His shrine may be limited. She does not wish to be away from Him, does not wish to return to being a mere mortal among the many. Her importance is miniscule, but she wishes to stand out in His conscience, let Him know that He owns her, body and soul. The way He makes her feel is addictive, it is something that no other, mortal or immortal, can induce upon her. It is an eternal struggle to stand out, to be memorable, so she has hatched a plan. Now, if only He will agree.With light, swaying steps she crosses the bridge to the Veins, humble before the divinities that dwell here. Her utter respect is something He appreciates, she knows for certain. So rarely does she ask anything of Him, so rarely does she ask for anything in turn for serving Him. She thinks with a tender smile on the time where He sent her a gift, a slave, and she decides that His displays of appreciation are solid enough to dare her inquiry. Emerald gaze drifts to the eclipsed sun above her with displeasure; no sooner is the sun returned before it is swallowed up by the darkness. The thought soon leaves her mind as she arrives by His shrine, bony figure brought to a halt and the smile returning to her soft, black lips. In the company of others she is deceitful, selfish and snide, but in front of Him, there is no sense in her charades, for He sees right through her schemes and lies. “Light of my Life, I am returned to you,” she murmurs softly, breeze picking up and tugging on her long, silky tresses, caressing her glistening black hide. And then, she waits. |
