Doors Masquerade (doorsmasquerade) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-03-28 01:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | plot: masquerade |
Who: Cimmerian
What: Reveal!
Where: Outside Passages.
Warnings: Language.
She'd run until she could not run anymore, and even then she paced wildly in search of the caves. Somehow she knew that she would die in the light. The Cimmerian girl didn't realize the worry applied only to this form and not consciousness, but it hardly mattered because the sun did not wait for her in it's rise. She'd wounded her love, she knew. That beautiful, golden boy that cherished her as the whole of his world despite the nasty bruises on her skin and stains on her dress. She glanced over her shoulder, half hopeful to see him following her. He'd promised to find her, she wondered if he --
The sun crested, and she dropped to her knees alongside the road outside the hotel. "Fucking hell," she seethed against the grass with a hyperventilating gasp as the pain in her chest was suddenly far too real. Don't let her die alone on this shit road, dear god. At least let her light a cigarette first. Of course, as soon as the pain was there, it was gone and everyone was comfortably numb in due time. She rolled onto her back, not giving a general care for the blur of headlights that came and went past her head. Her phone buzzed, and she reached into a tight denim pocket to retrieve, but it's machinery was less interesting than a cigarette, and soon she was juggling that out too.
She had to wonder if she'd killed people, because she recalled the pain inside as being bad enough to warrant swift death. Who would want to live through that kind of thing? Rolling over and pushing herself onto her knees, she stood while the sun pounded accusations at her back.
It wasn't the only one.
That was all you, just so you know. Sneering, she stuck her thumb out for the next passing car. "Shut up, Irene."