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#Post#: 67--------------------------------------------------
Attachments
DIR By: RiloRii
Date: November 28, 2011, 8:59 am
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Re: Attachments
« Reply #13 on: November 16, 2011, 05:34:23 pm »
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Now despite the fact that Echo was usually in this for personal
gain as well as the other person's gain, it still made him feel
horrible when he had to repeat a tragic story to a sweet person.
Upon dousing the fire, he figured it was coming. Mysterious orbs
flickered upon the many books before he went to the fireplace,
grabbing a black bound book with no cover design or words.
Looking over it momentarily, he held it to her. "I don't usually
do this at all, but I want you to write in this. Everything that
happens, everything that you think, write it down in this book.
Not only will it transfer to your story, but it will never fade.
This book can never be damaged by anything. Once you take this
book, it can never be lost or misplaced. It will always end up
here and then I will personally send it back to your grasp.
Retain your knowledge, Dear Maria. You can also write to me in
this book and it will show up in my book. It's like exchanging
letters, but more so an instant connection. You can write in
this book with anything, even that red quill. you don't need
ink, it will rise on it's own. You can write the words with your
fingers even, the ink will come up on it's own." Echo elaborated
the book's use before he sighed a bit and looked to the doused
logs.
"Many things will happen. Both good and bad. You will be just
fine though, Maria. Remember that." He said kindly. Was it the
first time he was being this kind? Yes, it was, surprisingly. He
found something more in Maria. Something that he couldn't quite
explain or even really elaborate at all. The plethora of
knowledge he held upon the entire community of people was
nothing compared to confusion he held. Smiling softly still, he
looked to the stair case, walking to it's spiraling function.
"Come with me.. You need rest before you set out on any journey.
I cannot hide you from your life for long, but while I can, you
can enjoy the rest you get." Her story lay firmly in his
protective hand, no one had ever gotten a book from him that
wasn't meant to be in their hands. Her story, would never be
given to anyone but herself unless upon request.
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Aiko
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The world...is much more beautiful than we think.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #12 on: November 16, 2011, 04:47:58 pm »
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The fire spit and crackled, the shift of a charred log burning
away within the inner inferno causing her to visibly flinch, a
strange acquirement that she was even at a loss for words on
when it came to the matter. Such strange occurances had been
happening more than often, as of late. So many fires, all of
which capitvated her as well as horrified her, and the moment
one tight snap of oxygen seemed to occur, she'd find herself
flinching as if about to be struck by a strong hand. Yet it was
just a simple, silly fire, was it not? Then why was this
happening, she had no fear of fire, but perhaps it was something
so deeply implanted in her memory, and mind, that only her body
seemed to remember. After enduring such another one of her
silly bouts, as she had come accustomed to labeling them as,
Maria watched the steely-eyed man flick the tips of his rather
delicate fingers against the pages and as he studied the smooth
ink, she studied the man himself. Odd, that's all she could
think of. Odd. He was attractive, she thought, but not in a
sexual kind of way, just a mild observation of sorts. Nice hair
and mysterious gaze, a quirky personality with an equally
enthralling air of mystery about him, he seemed to be the type
who could woo women if he wanted and perhaps he knew he could do
such. It made the violet haired female's eyes roll towards the
Heavens, her gaze resting back just as the delicate fruit was
placed within her vision and at such a sight, a strange pang
flicked deep inside of her hollow chest...
Affection? Was that what she was feeling? It was something
warm...and slightly odd, like a little tinge of something odd
was running through her veins, and with her fingertips
hesitantly peeking forth, she held upon the softened flesh of
the scarlet fruit and simply stared at the delicate little jewel
she felt she housed in her hand. She loved strawberries? Maria
supposed she could see why, they were a...cute, little fruit.
But wouldn't it take more than that to love something? Not just
for the outside...so as he gave her that small, pitying smile,
Maria ignored such a gesture and pressed the flesh of the
vulnerable, seeded fruit against her lips and took a gentle,
light bite, savoring the sudden splurge of flavor that
threatened to attack her senses head-on. It was...invigorating.
Joy, she thought, happiness, she thought, affection, she
thought. Such things she thought were becoming brought on by
this small, tart taste, and Maria seemed at a slight loss for
words as she simply engulfed the rest of the delicacy within her
lips, aside from the small, green cap, and looked down towards
the leftover green with a strange sense of nostalgia. She DID
love strawberries...
Her fondness was interrupted by the shifting of the being in
front of her, and, with a newfound respect for him and his
introduction of the one thing she had suddenly felt so strongly
for, Maria began to actually intently listen to him. With her
seat placement like that of a superior noblewoman, Maria poised
her back a little straighter and stared into the dancing embers
a little harder and allowed herself to be delved into from the
depths of whatever book he was reading, feeling every word
scratch a little more painfully than it possibly should have.
It was as if with every word he spoke, she willed herself to
believe it and her mind did feelt a bit...odd. As if it was
saying everything was true but still...she could do naught to
remember anything. A twin...her death...her reanimation...it
couldn't be true. She was alive and...well...she was alive,
wasn't she? She didn't smell like some rotting corpse and she
didn't look like it...
For some reason, Maria found herself staring with utter spite
into the fire of his den, and as he came upon his final words
with his sympathetic words, Maria felt what she believed to be
true, fiery hatred. That damn crackling! Those fucking embers!
They were getting on her fucking nerves! And as he stood up, so
did the tall woman with a seemingly darker presence, her hands
grasping his coffee glass without a single word as, with her arm
snapping back, the glass smashed into the pits off the fire with
a hissing sizzle and a deafening crack, her gaze as hardened and
steely with it's apathy as it first were when she arrived, her
arm slowly retracting back to her side whilst she briskly
removed the quill from his fingers. "I thank you for your
patronage."
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Re: Attachments
« Reply #11 on: November 16, 2011, 04:32:30 am »
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Dear Maria- There's so many things you wish to know, wish to
remember. It's so troubling for you, that you know nothing at
all. It's so saddening, actually.
The thoughts crossed his mind as he sighed a bit and flipped to
the beginning of the book. Reading over the first few pages to
refresh his memory, he slowly sat up and turned to her after
taking another sip of his coffee. For a moment he contemplated
his next move. Things were certainly about to get either really
easy or really difficult. Holding his hand out, he twisted his
fingers in an odd manner, turning his hand palm up. In it rested
a strawberry, he held it to her and smiled a bit. "Well for
one.. You love strawberries.. They're your favorite thing to
eat." He said quite sadly, the story he was about to tell was
well- quite dreary. So he wanted to present her with something
she loved before repeating the words in the book. Sitting in an
odd fashion, his knees pulled to his chest as he balanced on the
balls of his feet, his arms folded around his legs as he held
the book in front of him. "Let me start at the beginning- the
beginning of your story, Maria." He paused, letting out a sigh
of sorrow before he began to speak once more. "You and your twin
brother, Martinique, died a very slow and disease ridden death.
Your parents were so stricken with mortifying grief that they
preformed a necromancy ritual, sacrificing themselves for the
both of you. Your mother for your brother and your father for
You. The townsmen found out about this ritual and attempted to
slaughter you all.. Burning your house down entirely" He paused,
looking at her with a saddened gaze.
"Your parents were already gone, you and your brother were
already brought back using reanimation. The villagers hadn't
succeeded. You had gained all of your father's powers of
necromancy, much more than your brother had gotten from your
mother. Fleeing in confusion of your amnesiac self, you
remembered nothing, your brother on the other hand; remembers
everything. His desires are to corrupt you into being his own
little puppet because as children, you gave him the love and
affection he sought, now he wants you for himself in... Well,
sexual desire. His main goal though, is to strip you of your
powers and keep them for himself. Though you do not know how to
use your's, he knows how to use what he has very well, he's also
very close to finding you. Worry not though, you're in no danger
here. He cannot find this place unless he's lost, even then,
it's only given to sight to those who have no need to harm." He
finished, closing the book and setting it upon the table, taking
another drink of coffee. "Dear Maria- I do care for you so...
Take heed upon my words, tread lightly upon travels outside of
this place.. With the memories you've now gained back, you
should be well aware of what to do. I cannot help you outside of
this place other than by..." He trailed off, getting up and
going over to a book case. Removing a red and teal designed
book, he returned to the couch, opening it and removing a bright
red quill. Handing it to her, he offered a small smile of
comfort. "Take this, when ever you need me, just write my name
upon the air or anything. I shall respond in ways you will not
be familiar with but will understand. Remember, my name is
Echo.. E-c-h-o." He said tenderly. Man did he feel like shit,
having to tell her that, telling her her life's story.. It's
tragedy.
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Aiko
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Posts: 76
The world...is much more beautiful than we think.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #10 on: November 14, 2011, 06:48:37 pm »
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The flutter of pages seemed to give deep, tiny cuts against the
aching confines of her brain, pressing into the flesh and
embedding themselves their, leaving their vicious little welts
of taunting glory uon her frustration and irritation with the
matter. Was he mocking her disposition with his flicking pages,
snidely making sure to take his time as if savoring her
distaste? Or was this all just some bizarre paranoia she had
invented in her mind to create some sort of output of her
unidentifiable frustration and anger? "Whatever...just...do
something about it." She talked to him as if she were but just a
casual patient suffering from ill migraines, asking for the
medications she'd require to dispose of their existence. But
she wasn't a patient and he wasn't a doctor, she had no clue
what she was and that, was what frustrated her.
There he was again! Disappearing! Taunting her with having her
answers but not answering them! By the gods she would hit that
man in this dreary evening if he didn't hurry up his damn
process! Maria was angered, obviously, and she yanked the damp
blanket off her shoulders and threw it over the back of the
couch, proceeding to take her stance of frustration. One elbow
shoved against the couch's arm, her cheek pressed firmly into
the palm's hold while glaring into the fire with her icy orbs,
her left leg crossed over the right stiffly along with the stiff
composure following up the rest of her body. "Hurry up already."
She didn't mean to be tart. Maria was never truly such a cruel
person, she was simply...tired and frustrated, and here sat a
man who could answer her questions and he still dilly-dallied
around! Finally, FINALLY, he seemed to sit down and begin
helping her find her answers upon questions of which she didn't
know, and he finally held her attention, though peeved as it may
have been. In all honesty, she wasn't listening too thoroughly
as he rambled upon her questions that she frantically did ask
herself, frequently pondering them, but it was one phrase that
frightened her into the reality of his room, "...before losing
your memories..." Losing her memories? What did he mean? What
memories?! "What do you mean by that? Memories? What are you
talking about?" Of course, being an amnesiac she didn't even
know that was what she was, so this bit of information was
startling and disturbing, bothering her even more than any of
his previous comments.
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Re: Attachments
« Reply #9 on: November 13, 2011, 08:26:03 pm »
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Oh how very confused and frustrated this woman was! It was
purely interesting to him to see such a person. Taking a moment
to reflect on things a bit, he sighed deeply and flipped to the
last page written in the book. Examining it, he flipped to the
next blank page and suddenly ran his fingers over it slowly.
Upon the action came raised letters and words in ink. Reading
over the ink, he stole a glance at her. "Alright, then we'll do
it this way.. Since your mind is obviously filled with questions
and I can't quite just leap in their, I guess I'll just have to
read the pages that arise with your thoughts. I will say this,
even thoughts that aren't questions will arise upon these pages.
So if for some reason you distaste the fact that I'm reading
your personal thoughts, remember that this is a more.... Simple
way of doing things. In the end though, it's more complicated
than my just telling you your entire story. If I did that, then
it would just be too plain and you'd hate it in the end." He
stated. Damn was Echo smooth at figuring things out quickly.
Sure he was pretty spastic and went at his own pace, but his
intelligence outranked many upon many of the elder's. Looking to
the side, he sighed quaintly before standing up and going off to
the kitchen.
By now her clothing should've been dry, considering how much of
a draw back there was to humidity in his home. Returning with a
cup of coffee, he knew that this was going to take a while.
Sitting back down, he crossed his knees and returned to the lax
position he held before getting up. Settling the book in his
lap, odd colored orbs trailed over the words that had risen once
more before he analyzed the questions and answers. "Alright..
Allow me to elaborate a few answers. First off, you do indeed
exist. Existence is merely questioned to be a mythological
congregation of another person's mind or even what someone would
call 'God's mind. Though indeed, you do exist. Your questions
are your's and the congregation of confusing thoughts and
questions you bare are certainly complex beyond a normal
person's intelligence. This proves that before losing your
memories, you were an extremely intelligent being. You are in
fact, distressed, desperate, and confused beyond belief. Those
emotions, are existent as well. Though to be quite frank, there
are different levels of said emotions. Those levels can only be
determined by the person at hand, for the perception of another
being might say different. We do exist, we do partake upon
lively interjections, and we are in fact; quite here. In order
for you to actually ask the questions yourself, you must first
analyze the actual questions and separate them from each other.
Your mind is working far too fast, you need to calm down and
take it one step at a time." In saying all of this, he hadn't
moved much and his tone had switched to one of a more calming
manner than it was before. Not as hyper and spasticated as it
previously was.
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Aiko
Apprentice
Posts: 76
The world...is much more beautiful than we think.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #8 on: November 13, 2011, 04:19:38 pm »
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The woman felt a strange feeling well within the pits of her
chest, coiling deep inside as if attempting to squeeze it's
sticky tendrils along her lungs, impairing her common reason as
she pressed her arm upon the arm of the couch, the bridge of her
nose caught between her thumb and index finger with an
exaggerated expression, eyes tightly closed with her lips
turning downwards. Maria didn't know yet, but what she was
feeling was desperation. "If I knew the answer to such
questions, I would not be asking you, Mister Echo." Her tone
was tart and sharp, the tone of her own voice seeming to throw
her off guard as she faintly parted the ashen lids, glaring into
the darkness through the jaded-sapphires of her eyes, her body
wreaking and unknowable havoc internally within the depths of
her shattered and scattered mind. She knew naught of anything
involving herself, just like she knew naught of others, and this
frustrated her to a point that she couldn't describe for she
couldn't even describe her own frustration! All she knew was
that she was feeling, and even then she questioned such a simple
existence upon the being of "feeling", for if she didn't know
what she was experiencing, how could she say that was the
experience occurring? One could see a color and call it blue,
when it could actually be red for perhaps they did not know the
original name of such a hue. Just as one uneducated upon words
could only understand the pictures, yet the meaning could be but
of a completely different entirety. A life of paradoxes, a
frustrating existence indeed.
Though frustrating, as she believed she felt, Echo was now
providing her with something that could be of actual use. Now,
of course he put her off with his...odd being, yet Maria was
determined, she thought, to find out the answers to questions
she did not know, or could not comprehend. To do so, to fight
for something one wanted more than anything else, one would stop
at no lengths to obtain their desires. Perhaps that was the
curse of man. Once more, she closed her eyes, the irritable
expression still upon her face as she seemed to sink further
against the couch with her head gently turning away from the
man, the thoughtful touch of the blanket pulled back against her
skin doing nothing to halt the inner explosions of confusion
deep within. She was simply a heap of being, a heap of raw
emotion though utter denial, a heap of what though? How could
one know what they are if they knew naught of what they were in
the past? Was it not the human experience that made one who
they were? So how could she even start with these questions if
she knew naught of their importance? Or of their origin? Or if
they were even "her" questions? "I don't know how to start..."
A single line from her lips, yet a pure wash of utter
obstruction upon what memory she did not have, frustration and
irritation upon her words dipped with self-directed anger as her
free hand dug into the fabric of his couch, uncaring towards the
indentions made by such a hold.
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Re: Attachments
« Reply #7 on: November 10, 2011, 05:28:58 pm »
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Echo's curious eyes scattered his 'home' as he listened to the
few words she said. Thinking to himself, he picked up the book
and opened it to the first page. "Ah.. So you want me to tell
you of yourself? The thing is, I only know you through your
actions, what you've done and what you've expressed physically.
I do not know you from your inside. Though... I suppose by
presenting you with what you've done, you may recall what you
were feeling while you did it. The thing is... Are you sure you
really want to know?" He said as he brushed his fingers across
the raised ink. "People are fickle beings.. Creatures alike.
Hmm.. Dear Maria, before I tell you of your life's story.. Or
what I've seen of it rather, might you be more specific??" He
asked, looking to her with a quirked brow. Now Echo might have
been the man who not only worked for the gain of others, but for
his own gain, he was also a being in which entitled his work to
the person's personal advantage. Thinking to himself once more,
he leaned back upon the couch, the side of his knuckle pressed
to his lips. Now this man was certainly no saint, it wasn't but
moments before her arrival that he had sent someone to their
trials, but he was no cruel person entirely. Sighing a bit, he
closed his eyes and rested his cheek in his hand as it was
propped up on the arm of the couch.
"Dearest Maria.. I want you to do something, this something will
benefit you greatly. I want you to close your eyes and think
deeply into the hollows of your mind. I then want you to ask me
each question that pops up one at a time. I will provide you
with the answers to these questions. In doing so, this will
benefit you to discover more and more into the memories you are
seeking. You must know, I do not provide a simple route. If I
did that, then I would be too generous and in doing so, would
undoubtedly scar the person I am providing service to." He
stated quietly as he looked at her through the corners of half
open eyes. This man surely was strange in many ways. Leaning
towards her, he pulled the blanket over her being a bit more
before he straightened back to his previous position. The book
he held in his lap ever so enduring to it's tortures of words as
he ran his fingers over the first page with unoccupied hand.
"Proceed to asking your questions, Dearest Maria. They will help
you greatly in the end." He said calmly as he offered her a
smile. A smile? Not that silly wolfish grin? Nope, just a smile,
one of true genuine generosity.
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Aiko
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Posts: 76
The world...is much more beautiful than we think.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #6 on: November 09, 2011, 06:14:21 pm »
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Instead of follow his advice upon the hearty drink, Maria,
instead, traced her fingers through the lengths of her dampened
locks, the task proving tedious with how much hair she truly
had. Over one shoulder the damp length went, her gaze once more
focusing straight ahead as if lost within it's own inner world,
ashen skin seeming darker and sickly against the softened hues
of burning embers. "I appreciate your hospitality, but I will
not catch cold." She replied it simply, a stated fact,
whole-heartedly believed and felt due to the fact it was indeed
the truth. Maria found it hard to have these more mundane
ailments like sickness, yet she also found it hard to obtain the
glory of mundane things, like wellness. With her fingers
methodically working through the multi-colored hues, Maria
shifted her gaze to the side slowly once again to eye the
black-haired male and his steely gaze, watching as he looked
into that strange book he had been carrying about. With his odd
words, the woman's brow faintly quirked upwards as he spoke of
her story, speaking of knowing her though she seemed to slowly
understand that he didn't, her fingers stopping their work to
instead lay interlaced in the locks. "A perfect escape..."
Was it possible for her to have such a thing? If she could have
wistfully thought, perhaps there was such a thing for her, but
what was her perfect escape? One needed to know their likes,
their interests, their desires and such to know what their ideal
perfection of an escape was. Maria didn't have such luxury.
The woman may have actually seemed slightly exhausted from the
thought of such another query clouding her mind, not allowing
her mind even a moment's reprieve. The woman seemed to sink
into the back of the couch for a moment, blanket sliding further
off her shoulders while she looked back into the distance,
thinking thoughts she didn't even know if she actually thought
before hearing the male speak out once more, adhering to his
words though not seeming to actually focus upon him. "I would
introduce myself in a more proper manner, but you seem to know
everything about me as it is." If she were capable of feeling,
she may have spilled spite into her words, spite and the ever
jade jealousy, yet Maria didn't pour those into her words. How
could she know if she even did? He asked her of her whims, and
the woman had so many desires in that moment that she believed
this man could fulfill, yet were they desires? Were they even
what she wanted?
With a solitary movement, she ran her fingers along the hem of
her boots, pulling the soaked fabric away from the skin it so
dearly hugged, her expression perhaps resembling one of trouble
for another moment. "I want you to tell me of me. If that is my
perfect escape, explain it to me..." It was probably not a
request too uncommon, for their perfect escape to be known, but
Maria had different intentions for such a query. If she could
discover what was her perfect escape, she could discover more
about her preferences, her desires...She could discover more
about her. Recover some of what she had lost.
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I'm King, get on your knees.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #5 on: November 09, 2011, 05:55:15 pm »
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There was no explaining him, nor events that would take place
soon. Mishaps and decisions were always together as he chuckled
and was seemingly full of glee. A wolfish grin like no other
always possessing lips as he sat straight up. Snatching up a
quill and bottle of ink, he popped the cork and set it aside.
Grabbing up the red bound book, he stole a glance at Maria and
again there was a chuckle. "Ah ah, my Dearest Maria.. You'll
catch cold in which it will not be good. If you get sick, then
how are you suppose to be well enough to get the answers you
seek? You're cold, not warm, though you'll be warm soon. As for
me, I am a stranger, someone you have never met. Though I know
who you are because..." A pause, the quill dipped in ink before
he looked down to the half filled page. "I am writing your
story. Well, in a sense, I don't control what you do or what
happens.. I merely observe and write you the perfect escape
built for your needs." He stated, the scribbling never ceasing
as he had already filled another page or two.
"Oh dear Maria, why do you leave your questions unanswered?
They're right there yet you decline yourself the answers you
seek." Echo chuckled a bit, stealing yet another glance at the
woman who sat upon his couch. "I am Echo." He said with a calm
and sweet tone, his digits releasing the feather for a moment
only to drop it into the ink bottle. Letting the pages dry
before he closed the book, he leaned back upon the sofa once
more. Things were certainly going to be interesting, never had
he had a specimen like Maria in his midst. It was going to be
entertaining in the least, though many wouldn't think so because
of her apathetic composure. Lips turned a smile as he twisted
his head and gazed at her full on rather than glancing.
"Anything you wish to do, read, or eat? Ask and it will be
given.." He stated kindly. Yes, this man was kind, for his gain.
Every person he wrote a story for, they provided him with
interest or some sort of personal gain. There was nothing he did
that didn't benefit himself. Many thought that this was
moralistically wrong, he just thought it was a good way for his
self and the person to get some gain. Rather than only one
person gaining and the other losing. It was a wonderful aspect.
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Aiko
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Posts: 76
The world...is much more beautiful than we think.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #4 on: November 09, 2011, 04:31:03 pm »
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Sea-green irises of a dimmed, milky hue looked downwards upon
the golden handle tarnished by the effects of its weathered
abuse, the drab thing seeming to mock her thoughts at its
question of working order or not until the moment it turned with
it's steady, mischievous creak. Well, appears this day was full
of surprises. The door opened to the eccentric man who seemed
to laugh upon her misfortune, nothing new, nothing old. Yet,
she felt a dull feeling, an emotion she was uncertain of that
bubble warningly in the pits of where she believed her stomach
should be as the man she had never seen in her life, she
thought, addressed her by her name. Slender phalanges traced
upon the moistened skin of her cheek as they shoveled a few
plastered strands of the now darkened violet hair further back
upon her skull, her lips parting as if to start the request for
shelter before feeling the warmth of his coat’s fabric against
her skin. The reddened material and it’s strange dryness, the
scent it carried with it, alluring yet warning though she
couldn’t identify either feeling. At least, she imagined that's
what she felt.
It smelled strange. Smelled of aged books and wizened words,
the taste of paper and its accompanying ink seeming to strangle
her taste buds as the apathetic expression remained as such,
unable to understand, unable to comprehend. Then, she was pulled
inside, a world left behind in its dreary melancholy while the
singular click of the drab door closed behind her with a clunk.
What was inside was a complete turnaround from what was outside.
What was this place? Was it a portal like those scientific
white-coats blabbered on about in their Quantum Physics? An
alternate reality? It seemed very much like so as it was
stacked from floor to ceiling with numerous tomes and tales,
warmth cascading from around the area itself, a warm and
inviting feeling though Maria didn't feel as such. It was not
like she could feel that warmth anyways, she'd tried before.
Silly pipe-dreams.
She wasn't even aware of the strange man's presence until it
presented itself again, tome in hand and clutched like a child
as he appeared to try and make her comfortable. She didn't see
it as such, a man with that kind of smile could never just do
things out of pure kindness, she could see it in his smile. At
least, she thought. Once more, the pale flesh of her lips
parted as if to say something, yet the man was off once again in
that hectic pace of his, her expression remaining the same
though with a tilted angle of her head as she huffed softly. A
tender whoosh of a cold breeze from cold lips. He was
definitely someone who went at his pace and only his pace.
She was drug off again, following like the obedient guest she
was attempting to be. That's what they called courtesy, right?
The woman was led to the couch, red jacket still held across her
body in a rather comical sense considering how small its stature
seemed to be upon her tall form. More books, more tomes, more
stories that she didn't house an interest in yet, the crackle
and flick of embers like an all too familiar dream. She sat
slowly, form straightened as it attempted to “relax”, hands
clasped against her exposed knees whose being was covered with
the skin-tight length of the violet attire. Was she warm or was
she cold, a question she too could never even identify as it
was. Just another seemingly empty query she’d never know an
answer to. Oh well, shove it back, deep back into the mind where
she wouldn’t require it’s appearance again until later times.
He offered her drink, a kind gesture from the odd individual,
yet she barely eyed the hot beverage and simply stared straight
ahead, apathetic and strangely stoic as she finally managed to
squeeze out the only phrase she could within this pace she was
trying to follow. “A cold would be nice. Do not worry upon my
health, I will be fine.” It was the truth as the hollow voice
poured like an empty symphony from her lips, stating a fact she
had discovered already within her life, just one she could not
yet understand.
She had decided that he was a kind enough fellow, he seemed to
at least attempt at making her comfortable with the invitation
of drink and the newfound commodity of the blanket around her
form that neither shiver nor shook, surprising for one whom had
been standing in the fretful rain. The weight of the couch
shifted and she found his presence still faintly odd as he
seated himself beside her with his incessantly intriguing
mumblings, her gaze keeping forward before slowly slipping to
the side, eyeing him without any sort of emotion through the
glazed, dim irises. “You talk as if you know me. Do you?” A
simple question, one she should easily know the answer to. Any
person knew if they had met someone or not, no matter how old
they grew the faint reminiscent touches of memory would always
remain there, yet she asked the question honestly, or as
honestly as her voice would allow her for Maria didn’t know if
she had met this stranger before.
She never knew.
She had forgotten.
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Re: Attachments
« Reply #3 on: November 09, 2011, 12:01:13 am »
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"Rain rain go away, come again some other day.. Things are drab
and days are dreary, I wish thee gone until the morn. Hah! I
love the rain, it makes things.. Interestingly mysterious." A
voice of charm and silk reverberated off the walls of the
innards to this place. That wolfish grin only slipping slightly
as he heard the rapping of knuckles upon the door. "Hmm? A call
upon the new parchment untold.. How sweet, apathetic,
questioning.." He noted, feet carrying him down the spiral
staircase. Raven locks dripped with crystalline droplets falling
to clothing as it ruffled and moved with his steps. "Tap tap
tap, upon the door of curiosity, a place to stay for the night
you say? Well of course m'dear, if you think naught upon doing
wrong for the moment." He said, that silken voice ever so
tainted slightly with the sound of bittersweet love.
Echo echo echo, a name so strange and unrealistic, he turned the
key for many other's to open their doors to the escape they've
longed for. A saint? Him? No, certainly not! He was nothing more
than a reader, a writer, someone who preferred to keep things..
Interesting. Everything was for his own gain in some way.
Calloused phalanges turned the knob to the door the woman was
behind, pulling it open without much effort or excitement.
Seeing the drenched apathetic face, he quirked a brow and
chuckled. "Ahh... Maria.. Come in come in, it's your story to be
told m'dear. Your book is in the making." How? How did he know
her name? He had just met her not even seconds ago! Now this was
an easy answer to give, he was the story maker. The writer of
escapes and unimaginable comforts and trials. He was aware of
many persons' names and faces, only because he was writing their
story. Something to escape with. Shrugging off the red jacket he
wore, it some how became dry with in no more than a
millisecond's time, he draped it over her shoulders and gave her
wrist a light snatch and pull.
Getting her inside, he didn't waste a single second before he
was off up the stairs once more. No warning was given to be well
behaved, nor did he really think she would turn events and have
him change her story to one of trials rather than escape.
Goggles hung to the right side of his head as steely orbs danced
across the book's titles. A chuckle rang through the innards of
the place before he returned down the stairs. A ever so wolfish
grin upon his lips as he looked at her, a red bound book in
digits. "Ah my dear, Maria, take a load off. Sit and rest,
you've had a long while before you've actually done so.
Questions arising and manifesting in the hollows of your mind
constantly eating away at you. It's going to be a long night I
suppose, unless you're eager for sleep, if that's the case; I'll
allow you refuge on my couch tonight. Your escape is not
finished yet. Hmm.. Never before has anyone showed up before
their escape or trial was finished. First time for everything I
suppose!" He said, chuckling once more as he peered at her. It
wasn't long before he was rushing off once more, but instead of
up the stairs he went around them.
After a few sounds of clanging and things flying, he returned
with a hot cup of tea and a warm blanket. Without words, he
again, gently snatched her wrist with his free hand and lead her
to the couch. The fire crackling as it caused a glow to
reverberate in the book filled room. Jeans rattling with chains
as he gingerly sat her down upon the plush sofa and set the hot
mug upon the table beside her. "Drink drink, you'll catch cold."
He said with a mutter for the most part before he shifted the
blanket in his arm and unfolded it, draping it across her.
Taking refuge into the other side of the couch, he sank in with
a plop and chuckled once more. "Hmmmrrrr.. So so, my dear
Maria.. Haha, that could be a song.. Ah, so odd I am." He
stated, grinning as he stretched his arms across the back of the
couch. "La-Dee-Da.. My Dear Maria, why do you question so many
things. So emotionless and vacant in expression, lead the way to
your stairway of light and life." He sang in a chipper yet
bittersweet voice. "Mur mur mur. Talons and beaks only fight for
survival yet claws will maim for pleasure." He said, looking at
her with a grin, untold stories dancing with the fire in his
eyes.
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The world...is much more beautiful than we think.
Re: Attachments
« Reply #2 on: November 08, 2011, 06:29:02 pm »
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An incessant wandering, a burning need, a fiery desire to
fulfill unknown wishes. Everyday since she awoke to fluttering
cinders tainting her view, like angered faeries flying through
the air, this need had been awakened and seemed to never be
satiated. A perpetual thought process, a static existence,
almost as if she wasn't truly real. But she was, wasn't she?
From the tips of plum-painted nails along the slender length of
ashen arms, to the tips of equally painted toes, purple sleeves
made of a delicate material even she did not know of, just the
outfit she had awoken to, bound to, forever fated to wear.
She had worn the same clothes for what seemed like decades, yet
how long had it truly been? It felt as if time were testing her
patience and stability, tantalizing her thoughts with the
posibility of actually knowing something before yanking the
lifeline straight from her hands with a quick, teasing tug. How
much of a fool could she be to continuously reach again and
again with aching limbs for that thread?
A dreary day with equally dreary moods, apathetic faces passing
to become just that in her memory, bland faces with bland
expressions. The air felt moist, every breath was invading with
a taste of foreboding rain, the slick stones of cobble beneath
her echoing a definite click upon every footstep, every contact
of purple heel upon grainy rock audible and sounding outwards.
She was an odd sight to see within this dreary place with it's
equally dreary people, yet their dreary attitudes reflected
their lack of interest in their already lost lives as every face
refused to so much as give her a second glance. A tall woman
of an imperial height merely heightened by the unnecessary
length of her elegant heels, boots dragging in a seductive
manner along her leg to reach the tantalizing flesh of her
mid-thigh, such lengthy limbs revealed to the world by the slits
of her plum-shaded dress, a single length with a bodice-like top
binding and constricting plump flesh upon her chest to a
provacative sort of view. Between the great valley of such
promiscious flesh lay a single pendant, a darkened amethyst
jewel bound with a gold plate tied into the lace choker
pronouncing her slim neck, her entire attire matching the shades
of her locks, pinkened purple dragging towards the backs of her
knees, sea-green irises peering outwards with a dull sort of
gleam. All of this was attractive, yes, but unearthly so.
Unearthly was her gait, unearthly was her tone, unearthly was
the shade of her ashen gray skin, unearthly was she. Here's
where her wandering tendancies came into play, her consistent
questioning without even knowing which question to present.
Though one always seemed to play it's part in her troubled,
surreal existence.
What was she?
Wandering as she did, wandering as she must, the slim and
strange woman sauntered slowly, passing the men buried to their
necks in their coats, passing the women who's youth seemed to be
sapped out from them, passing the children who already looked as
if their adult years had come and pass. Dreary places, dreary
existences, yet still she found herself in the midst of it all.
Plaguing questions though just one question, no answers when
there should be many, cold skin becoming colder with the promise
of storm, why was she here, where was she to go? Wandering.
Wandering. Round and round. From city to village, from town to
town.
The first promised precipitation struck her cheek, an icy sting
that struck her into reality. The village seemed to close in on
itself even more so, disappearing within it's cracks and
crevices to leave her alone against the streets with the
onslaught of a shower laughing directly in her face with Lady
Earth's spite. Yet the woman didn't seem phased, she didn't
seem concerned, she merely turned her forlorn gaze to the
heaven's as the water pelted her skin, the thought of perhaps
finding shelter seeming to finally peek it's creative head
around the corner. Shelter? Where? Where would she go? Her
head turned left and right slowly, legs carrying her where she
did not know, a peculiar habit of hers that she housed. She
wandered further, further, and further. Where to go, where to
be, was this fate laughing? It seemed it was as her wandering
bore no useful fruit, so her form retreated yet down a
significantly cleaner alleyway who's chill made even her skin
crawl. Yet shelter was shelter, as it seemed. Walking and
walking with a more hurried pace as if to avoid becoming more
soaked than she already was, the woman headed down the alley for
some sort of shelter, some type of overhang, anything, and yet
she found within her sights a single, lone door. What was this?
A halfway house maybe? With it's shabby appearance it certainly
could have been.
A single knock with fate cackling in her ear every step of the
way, solitary hands knocking soundlessly upon a solitary door,
body drenched yet no shiver apparent as her melancholy eyes
watched at the door. She didn't know what to expect, yet there
seemed to be no harm in trying, what else was she to do? What
else could she do? Her answers could be anywhere.
What was she?
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Attachments
« Reply #1 on: November 08, 2011, 02:05:34 am »
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Who are you, impudent young one, to think you can steal from me?
The bookshop was never meant to be very obvious, but it draws in
those who need it, repels those who seek it, and punishes those
who abuse it. Well, perhaps these qualities are not limited to
the bookshop alone - its owner...Well, you'll see.
Turn left...then right...then left. That's right. You're lost.
You have to be lost to enter. Well done.
The door is nothing special. A mere wood plank affair, with a
the insignia of the shop painted on it in faded white, and a
small brass handle. The display is just what you would expect -
books in piles and artfully arranged with small ornaments that
supposedly offset the titles - all lit up by a singe bulb that
buzzes occasionally. Why go in? It's as rundown as the rest of
this street on the poor side of town where the losers and the
addicts live. It stands out no more than the rubbish bags across
the street and the neon sign for pizza three doors down. Yet,
your hand is on the handle, and you're stepping through. I
thought you didn't even like reading?
It's warm inside. Balmy even, as though the sun of a Italian
afternoon is filtering in through the windows, yet the view
outside is a dim as ever. Still winter. The books gleam golden
from their shelves: far more expensive than you were expecting
to find in here. What happened to the piles of tatty books in
the window? Oh, still there, but the dearer books are kept
inside. Well, that's not the best way to do business...
Colours assault you from all sides - rich reds, obstinate
purples, blushing pinks, wilting violets and sombre blues in
every shade couple with cream and gold and ebony of the darkest
hues. Velvet and taffeta and wood and gold-leaf. So many books:
titles in strange languages and all written in the same elegant
handwriting. What is this? A personal library or a bookstore?
Look around. Is there anyone here? Nope.
There. That one, wasn't it? Don't bother to look at the
title...it's the shades of green and pearlescent cream that
attract you, and then it's slipped into your coat pocket. It
might be worth something - or make an interesting read. You've
not got the money for it, so you will just take it. Foolish.
"An interesting choice." The silken voice drifts from above.
Atop the spiral staircase, the one which looks as though it
should be in a French mansion, rather than a shop in this dreary
city, stands the owner. He must be. Isn't he too young? Twenty,
no more, surely. Slowly, he starts down those iron steps towards
you, his gaze unwavering, even as he turns away from you.
Droplets fall from his clothing and hair onto the floor. How is
he so wet. I thought it wasn't raining outside. Glance outside:
no, it's not.
He smirks at you, benign and malign or asinine. Who can tell. As
he reaches the bottom stair he reaches out and slides a book
back into an empty slot on the shelf. Passions of the Water
Goddess. How odd. He's coming closer. Are you backing away or
holding your ground? "So, you thought you might steal from me,
did you?" Oh, he's not so nice now, and handsome features can
still look frightening. He's got you by the arm, and he's
pulling you over to the counter. Is he going to call the police
or-- "Usually, this place is a refuge for those who need help
they cannot garner from a normal book. So, perhaps instead of
municipal correction, magical correction is in order. Let the
punishment fit the crime." Oh, his grin is a little wolfish...
The book is plucked from your pocket, and he flips it open,
gazing intently at it. Cream lace overlays a dark, serpentine
green leather cover. Pearls and Poison. He laughs softly.
Apparently there is some irony you aren't understanding.
Unbeknownst to you, the book is a tale of testing character, of
courage, and redemption and murder and all that good stuff. He's
got you by the arm again, and his face is painted with an
expression of glee. How he likes this, to punish the sinners
with a little fright and danger, yet give them a chance. He's
the gatekeeper of fate in some ways. What's this? He's stuffing
the book in your pocket, and pulling you towards the front door
again. Is he letting you go?
"Enjoy the trip. Say hello to Petra for me."
The door doesn't open onto the street. Why are there trees? And
statues? And...what the hell is that?
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