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Post by Walter Ebony on Feb 2, 2010 20:32:28 GMT -5
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Nevan Ebony
Unseelie
Tainted Queen of Thorns[M:0]
Posts: 4
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Post by Nevan Ebony on Feb 4, 2010 0:03:43 GMT -5
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Porcelain is one thing to another other than Nevan, a compliment posed to the girl Queen of the darkest race. Her penance is overdue, her blood singing with the press of the wind against her little wings, and Queen Nevan wants nothing more than to dance with the women waltzing in her eyes. But that passes and the slaughter begins, a human dying under the merciless blows of another- and a deer grazes on new shoots – there a little girl laughs as her papa kisses her cheek. Nevan doesn’t cry or wince as the world spins and twirls, blood red shifting in an unending spiral of colors and wondrous atrocities. She's numb, fingers ghosting over the last shreds of her sanity. She steels her spine and stares at the wall behind the foolish fae who dared to challenge his queen’s right to rule. But she is mad-mad as the twilight moon rising past an eclipse on a dead moon morning- and so incredibly out of place that she needs say nothing to the fae behind the mirror. Her madness burns like silken glaciers, a powerful ebb and flow behind her eyes that screams for attention. And when she is finally allowed her blindfold she weeps sweet tears that turn the black silk to pitch.
Nevan dreams of a day she can look her husband in the eye and tell him that she knows his greatest secrets, stab him with the honesty and kill the excuses with simple acceptance. She doesn’t love him, not like the man she sees him with. She doesn’t fear him like the woman he lies with, cradles her simple love to her chest and lets it flutter about between her clawed fingers. Theirs is a marriage based on lies and deception, a twisted parody of political weaving, and Nevan thinks she would rather be his friend than his wife. But he is her King as she is his Queen, for all her disgusting wings and his glorious ones, regardless of her maddening power and his consistent strength.
‘Now remember my dear sweet, all you need is penance and this pain will end.
[/color]’ ‘ Darling, tell me what that prick does when I am away. Look hard or I’ll cut out your eyes to feed the crows.[/color]’ ‘ Ah, look how ugly she is mama. Someone should just strangle her in her bed and kill that little Seelie in its sleep.[/color]’ So she hides in the gardens, slips off her shoes and runs with her wings flapping behind her as the feathery wonders shift to shake off the glamour she wears like a second skin. It is here where she can be free, here among the roses and the thorns that long to rip her wings to shreds and her skin to ribbons. The roses know she doesn’t belong as well as she herself does. But the roses are dry, water droplets long absorbed into the earth beneath. And so here she dances, twirls and whirls in a dance better suited to a pair than to a solo dancer. Who cares about aesthetics when the insanity is pressing against her, digs into her mind and taints the wind she needs with images she can barely see as she turns. Her eyes are screwed shut and she dances to the sound of a not-so-distant scream, feet barely touching the dirt as she balances on her toes to play the marionette to that familiar echo. The sun is warm and the wind is gentle, a caress by Mother Nature for her wayward and tainted child as her skirt swirls around her knees and her eyes burn with tears unshed. And when the scream stops Nevan stops dancing, gathers her white dress in slender fingers and bolts towards the source. ‘ Mother? Why aren’t I like all the other Unseelie?’ ‘ Mother… I’m getting married today. Did you know I’m going to be Queen?’ ‘ Who would ever love a freak like you? Stop lying and see the world for me. I’m going to be Queen after all.’ Nevan hears him before he sees her, lets her toes kiss the dirt instead of gliding like the rest of her race, folds her swan wings back so as not to offend her husband’s sensibilities. Yes, she loves him. He is the night to her day, the moon to her sun, the end to her beginning. It’s hard to imagine herself without him, makes her wish she had the courage to love him like she desperately wants to. But when the marriage settles she will be content with his children, little pieces of him forever bound to her by a spider web of blood and pain. Feathers shift and fluff, wings telling more than the porcelain queen wishes of her bone deep loneliness. Eyes go wide as the shadows shift, sunshade aside, form a perfect rose of the darkest night. His giggle means nothing but his own demented happiness, and white hands carefully cradle the blossom to her face where she breathes in the sweetest smell of a rose that never could exist. The thorns reach for her even as Nevan wonders what she’s done to deserve something so precious. Her face colors prettily, perfect as the doll she has loathed becoming, as blue eyes flutter at the sight of her husband. “ Good evening my Love.” He kisses her hand like a romance, and for once Nevan has lost the good sense to stop her heart from fluttering in her breast and her wings from fanning out in a swishing display of brilliant white. She smiles through the rose at her nose, brings her hand back up so she can hold the blossom all the better. “ Good… evening my King.” The curtsey is clean, gracefully efficient and prostrating even as her mind whirls and her head spins. “ And how fares my liege this day?” Her head is tucked, wings shivering as she tries to hard not to touch and feel, kills herself with denial and reminds herself of a love she isn’t allowed to have to all for herself. Nevan’s chest shifts, in and out with each breath that threatens to shatter her tender heart into so many tiny razor shards. This love of hers will kill her, leave her lashed to the stake with cold iron laced around her neck and her wings broken beyond salvation. The fall into madness is expected, a single look into the shine of his eyes and she is gone, stolen away by the whimsical cruelty of air. That man fucks a whore and breaks her neck, this boy kisses his teacher, that teacher falls over dead from a policeman’s bullet, that fox cradles her kits, and that bear lumbers off in search of something. A girl weaves a daisy crown after a drug dealer shoots his wife. Nevan doesn’t cry for the loss, watches a baby scream its way into the night and clutches so hard at the rose that the thorns dig into her hands and a woman jumps off a building into infinite air. [/blockquote] ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ ♠ ♫ sinneh & legare ||PORTRAIT
legare ||CREATOR
ace of spades ||SOURCE
1176 ||FINALE
g-dragon - breathe ||CHORUS
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Post by Walter Ebony on Feb 5, 2010 0:25:45 GMT -5
[ closed for waifu- nevan ebony ]  &&time after time he had looked at the way she watched him move, and he had watched her in turn. Her soft little angel wings fluffed gracefully against her slender back- sending goose bumps down his spine. Was this truly just a political marriage? Or was it more? He shook his head as he watched her grip the rose with such grace that his smile softened. His eyes glimmering like a candle within a jack-o-lantern, glimmering with the setting sun which stroked a formidable image within his mind. It looked like the sun had been cut, from its soft under belly- its blood dripping across the horizon with a colorful appearance. The stars were translucent in the skies as he looked at his wife- Nevan, the way she always spoke so formally pained him, and he smiled at her, bending down to hear her soft voice float into his ears like a scent from the most delectable food. “Good… evening my King.” He looked at her, his blue-green eyes hardening as he waited for the rest of the greeting- her nervous disposition tossed at his feet like a dirty rag ready for incineration. “And how fares my liege this day?” He growled softly. The tides within his chest rolling and dancing along his skin like a modern two step and a grace bound for step- a combination that did not work. His long fluid eyelashes swept up and down as Walter’s eyes danced gracefully- staring into her soul looking at the madness that twisted inside her being like the innards of a lava lamp. The way it whispered to her made him almost giggle and want to watch it all the more, but he stood there like a tree, calm and still- waiting for her to take the initiative. Though when he didn’t he chuckled darkly, his smile spreading with a sick perfection. Why the Formalities? he said whispering in her ear quickly, his voice deep and energized. You are my wife after all Nev… he said with an anxious giggle pursed on top of his lips.
&&Kisses ,, wishes and puppy dog… tails? He tried not to laugh at his minds interjection as the king placed his lips upon hers so gently- a baby would have been surprised. The way his lips brushed against her, with the hardened grace melded into something malleable. He pulled back- not forcing him onto her small little cage- the one who willing chose to be a locked bird, his heart plunged into the darkness of his ribs, torn out and bloodied as mouths ate and tore apart the tissue of the instrumental organ. He looked at her with a serene kind of sadness for he knew that his secrets were as valid to her as the wings atop her back- with fluttered with a present grace. He felt the tingle of his lips on hers as he pulled back, the soft flesh of the kissers atop her face were soft and not too small. He smiled slightly wondering what he should do with Nevan in the ever-growing darkness when he got the idea. His smile disappeared from his façade as he looked Nevan in the eyes again- her bright blue eyes and he wondered then- how was this girl an unseelie? No matter. She was his and he was hers. In almost every regard that Liu owned him. Wait here… I’ll be back... he said with a quick kiss to her forehead, his small feet not making an audible sound against the moist ground as he moved towards his target. His liquid ray hair drifted in the wind as he covered himself with his shadows, walking to the back entrance of the castle’s Kitchen. Grabbing the prettiest things he could find. His eyes grabbed a basket off the counter used for holding potatoes- but not caring Walter dumped them out on the counter like drops of rain descending from the heavens. Tossing in two wine glasses, Walter noticed that they were shaped for looking and not for drinking. The glass twisted and turned in an even amount, stretching up into a rose like shape rimmed with a thin black line. Carefully placing them in the basket he looked around and grabbed more odds and ins- running to the nearest room for a white blanket. A small smile spread out across his thin lips- Liu had disappeared and he was alone, with Nevan.
&&moon ,, light danced across the ground as he released his shadows, find a patch of wild lilies. The color glowing a bright red in the moon light- far from the garden of bloody roses, the graceful petals tilting out at an angle that screamed something of Nevan. The way she moved- her fragile frame- built like a doll. Plucked one from the ground with a skill that allowed it to stay still, the petals not twitching as its bodice was ripped from its other half. Going back, he could see her silhouette in the darkness- her blonde hair illuminated by the moon- the tsuki as it was deemed in Japan. He chuckled and pulled his shadows close hiding his presence from Nevan with such a skill that even said ninja’s would feud over. He smiled again, swallowing his chuckle as he went about setting everything up. the single lily laid out atop the white blanket, which Walter had eased to the ground with a silent numbness. The intricate glasses laid in the basket which rested on the out-skirts of the blanket, along with apples and crisp salad with many toppings. The glass bottles of magically cleaned spring water sat on the side of the basket as he sat down- his attempt at being kind, burned his ears with his blood- his pale face flushing red in the dim light under the glowing sky. He unveiled himself and smiled looking up at Nevan, his face warm with his blood. Hand patting the spot next to him, afraid to talk, afraid his words would rush out and tie up in a knot- stuck in his throat with the grace of a new born baby.
&&count ,, 1025.
&&tags ,, for my waifu!
&&music ,, Rise of the Lycans soundtrack.
&&side notes ,, fail. POST IS FAIL.
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