Sunday, September 14, 2008
♥ Maverick (In Character) - Lament of the Highborne
He was so beautiful, sitting in the glowing waning gibbous of the moon. It's light shone every little detail on his face, in his eyes, every strand of hair. I could see it all with my vampiric vision, and he had no flaws on his body. Not even his clothes wrinkled out of tune with him. He was like an angel, so perfect and still, his hues peering off into the distance from under the tree where we were, from his perch on a boulder. But his eyes appeared to see nothing really. They only told the story of his thoughts, the harshness of his past. They were a constant reminder of what he was, and what he would never be again. The colors within his irises were mixing, circling each other like two lions in a fight, both waiting for the first move. They were trying to form into one, but they were like water and oil. They couldn't mix. Instead, they were doomed to an eternity of constant swirling, the color of crimson and ebony. Black and red.
They told the story of Sakuya Takahiro. They said he wasn't human. Not one bit.
I found myself staring, and when Sakuya turned to me, he shot back with a glare.
"What?" he spat.
His voice was deep and sharp. It got straight to the point, indicating what he wanted to know, which at this moment was why I was not moving and constantly staring. But behind his tones, there was a hurt that never left his voice.
His black hair howled around his face, framing and caressing the skin of his cheeks with the breeze. He was stone once again, not moving and silently demanding an answer.
I turned away, my silvery locks falling forward into my face. "Nothing," I said quietly. But Sakuya wasn't human. He could hear me.
He drew in a short sigh and turned back.
He looked so comfortable, so angelic, even if he was anything but an angel. One knee was drawn up, forming an upside-down 'V' with his left arm resting on it. His other leg was locked out, forming over the curved shape of the boulder on which he sat, his barefoot the only deviant in the line of his limb. His right hand was formed into a fist and support his fragile body. At least, it looked fragile at first glance. He was so thin, almost appearing starved, and his clothes did little to hide it. His pants were tight at his hips and loose down by his ankles, leather and black in color. Stolen, no doubt. His shirt was long-sleeved, black and cotton, and it hugged his chest like a child clinging to his or her mother. About his neck was the same symbol that sometimes appeared on my hand when I was out in sunlight, the raven with its wings spread, the full moon behind it. The neck piece was sterling silver, the raven's eyes being jeweled rubies, showing a reflection of the moon that I needed to even squint to see clearly. His skin was paler than a human's but not nearly as white as mine. He could pass off for a human much easier than I could if he had sunglasses. His eyes were eternally black and red, unnatural and frightening to humans. His hair was as dark as the sky with its twinkling stars, only the stars were little highlights on each strand. His bangs were long, flying down on side of his face, the back being short and messy from lack of keeping.
We were both stationary. No one moved.
I removed the thick gloves from my hand, slipping off one with ease. The first one almost ripped, the second slid off with the third inside of it. I could see my cold fingers now, and I watched the back of my left palm. Over the knuckles, the bird's wings appeared, slowly drawing down, down to the talons and gracefully inking in the head and the moon behind. The raven was a reminder for what I was. What I eternally was. Death couldn't touch me unless I wanted it to. The raven was a symbol all vampires carried with them, and they glowed so bright during the days, layers of clothes could barely keep them hidden from humans.
Even the sunlight off of the moon now made it glow, but not nearly as bright.
When my eyes of violet moved up, I could see those red and black colors staring at me. They were watching my shimmering hand.
((MORE TO BE ADDED))
They told the story of Sakuya Takahiro. They said he wasn't human. Not one bit.
I found myself staring, and when Sakuya turned to me, he shot back with a glare.
"What?" he spat.
His voice was deep and sharp. It got straight to the point, indicating what he wanted to know, which at this moment was why I was not moving and constantly staring. But behind his tones, there was a hurt that never left his voice.
His black hair howled around his face, framing and caressing the skin of his cheeks with the breeze. He was stone once again, not moving and silently demanding an answer.
I turned away, my silvery locks falling forward into my face. "Nothing," I said quietly. But Sakuya wasn't human. He could hear me.
He drew in a short sigh and turned back.
He looked so comfortable, so angelic, even if he was anything but an angel. One knee was drawn up, forming an upside-down 'V' with his left arm resting on it. His other leg was locked out, forming over the curved shape of the boulder on which he sat, his barefoot the only deviant in the line of his limb. His right hand was formed into a fist and support his fragile body. At least, it looked fragile at first glance. He was so thin, almost appearing starved, and his clothes did little to hide it. His pants were tight at his hips and loose down by his ankles, leather and black in color. Stolen, no doubt. His shirt was long-sleeved, black and cotton, and it hugged his chest like a child clinging to his or her mother. About his neck was the same symbol that sometimes appeared on my hand when I was out in sunlight, the raven with its wings spread, the full moon behind it. The neck piece was sterling silver, the raven's eyes being jeweled rubies, showing a reflection of the moon that I needed to even squint to see clearly. His skin was paler than a human's but not nearly as white as mine. He could pass off for a human much easier than I could if he had sunglasses. His eyes were eternally black and red, unnatural and frightening to humans. His hair was as dark as the sky with its twinkling stars, only the stars were little highlights on each strand. His bangs were long, flying down on side of his face, the back being short and messy from lack of keeping.
We were both stationary. No one moved.
I removed the thick gloves from my hand, slipping off one with ease. The first one almost ripped, the second slid off with the third inside of it. I could see my cold fingers now, and I watched the back of my left palm. Over the knuckles, the bird's wings appeared, slowly drawing down, down to the talons and gracefully inking in the head and the moon behind. The raven was a reminder for what I was. What I eternally was. Death couldn't touch me unless I wanted it to. The raven was a symbol all vampires carried with them, and they glowed so bright during the days, layers of clothes could barely keep them hidden from humans.
Even the sunlight off of the moon now made it glow, but not nearly as bright.
When my eyes of violet moved up, I could see those red and black colors staring at me. They were watching my shimmering hand.
((MORE TO BE ADDED))
♥ My
doll smiled.
1:18 PM
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1:18 PM
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