the most true, the most tragic. |
[Oct. 26th, 2012|12:54 am] |
She could taste it. Today, the sun tasted of sugar, of confectionaries. The spark tasted of caramels today. Yesterday, it tasted of rye. The day before, ( tarragon. ) |
|
|
|
The Song Of A Heartstring's Harpsichord. |
[Oct. 25th, 2012|12:22 pm] |
It was on the seventh day of the sun retreating into the hole of horizon opposite from which it was born that brought the alchemist, again, to the High Priestess’ steps. It was, however, different this time. Alois had endured through vivid dreamscapes of reconstruction and refinement, subconscious persuasions of symbolic steps that each closed a door that could not be reopened. There was no turning back, there was never any turning back, but it was not turning back that he sought. No. It was light. More light. ( The Lightweaver's touch. ) |
|
|
|
cut to the bone. |
[Oct. 25th, 2012|01:45 am] |
Leaning back against the wall for a moment, the sunset bruised the skyline a dark purple against the clouds that rolled in. He was already beginning to feel the damp flecks of almost-rain on the sharp bones of his cheeks and the serpentine curl of wet wind that drew them in closer. Gamorath had taken leave for the night--the benefit, he thought dryly before he could quite erase the thought, of having someone to take your post. It was a luxury he didn't need, he reminded himself, one of many, and he straightened and stood against the impending rain. Letting something like rain drive him inside seemed like giving up, somehow--or perhaps like giving in. Equal parts curiosity and...something less courageous, perhaps...kept him from refuge, but the latter was easily dismissed. It would, he reasserted, take more than a little rain. It was perhaps fifteen minutes later that he was eating his words, biting back curses under his breath as he made his ( sodden way inside. ) |
|
|
|
Now I Cry For Daylight. |
[Oct. 14th, 2012|09:40 pm] |
The sun was setting, slithering down to peek just above the uneven rooftops that fractured the skyline of Belorien, and the once blue sky had taken a turn for the red. Bright flashes of fiery hues were illuminated in the chopped up clouds as the claw marks of the heavens; the hour was ambiguous enough to be unsure of whether it was the light defending its superiority from above, or the darkness scraping at freedom from below. With his eyes focused up, Alois was entirely too concerned with this battle whose moves were set at a pace too conservative to generate any worry, and yet he was. ( He was, even though he knew how it was going to end. ) |
|
|
|
There is work to be done. |
[Oct. 14th, 2012|03:06 am] |
It was a small chapel in dusty white, just large enough to sit twenty people in its ( ragged pews. ) |
|
|
|
[MOD] Announce, cutlist, rumors |
[Oct. 13th, 2012|01:54 am] |
[ | Tags | | | announce, asya, besalet and balta, cross, cutlist, gamorath, mazhar, mod, mordecai, orlha, rumors, toska | ] |
Please welcome our new characters!
Toska Light Weaver High Priestess and Healer of Moldava, Ossuary of Lights [ NEN || retromortis ] |
Gamorath Guardian of the Light Weaver Protector and Paladin of the Light of Moldava [ Sly || creepingdose ] |
Asya LiminovaChemist for the Valoises Member of the Asklepian [ Angie || pinup saint ] |
CrossGuardian of the Tidecaller [ Sly || creepingdose ] |
OrlhaBarmaid at the Distillery [ Angie || pinup saint ] |
|
Besalet & BaltaThe Seeing Vipers of Samue God of Mercy & Revenge [ Sly || creepingdose ] |
|
Cut List The following muses are being cut for inactivity and will no longer be with us. Because they never posted, they need no write out.
Israa Amin, handmaiden to the Queen Moirae, the dancer
RUMORS
Have you seen that Fortune Teller out by the docks? He must give good fortunes-- he seems to be quite popular!
Alastair LePonte looked about ready to go to war in that full suit of armor! Be still the hearts of all the ladies of court!
Starke the Prophet of Varonian is dead! And to think-- his people think he's going to come back to life. Won't they be disappointed when they find out that's not how life works!
Rana's apprentice must not be very good-- she's always yelling at the girl! Can you flunk an apprentice? I suppose not if she hasn't gotten rid of her yet!
|
|
|