Dr. Achren Psiakis, PhD. (adimonia) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-03-27 15:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | acheron, phrike |
Who: Akhe and Phrike
Where: Freak's Show, gothic boutique
When: Early evening
Warnings: Unpredictable.
the heart's filthy lesson
with her hundred miles to
Acheron had the afternoon free. She lounged in a coffee house for a while, sipping the darkest coffee available, sprawled in one of those over sized chairs for which she was too tall. Acheron was nearly six feet of mostly legs and sinew, formidable in form but withdrawn, apathetic even, in demeanor. Staring out the window with such a cold gleam in her eyes one would think her partially catatonic. Her mind was a whirlwind, however, reading the expressions on people's faces as they spoke feverishly on their little phones about their horrible day. Tilting her head, she rose fluidly, opened the door and started a slow stride down the sidewalk.
A boutique sign caught her eye, and she paused where she stood, apparently not minding the people who brushed past her with exasperated facial expressions, some which screamed annoyance at Akhe's presence. Eyes narrowed as she looked at the sign a moment more, before letting her gaze fall to the display window. Phrike, she mused, even with the touch of a half-smile on her thin lips. She nudged the door open and took a few steps inward, momentarily taken aback by a poster of a faery in bondage gear.
"Mmm, fascinating," she murmured. Akhe's voice had a molasses like quality to it, smooth, slippery - when she was not giving lectures on the pains and torturous elements of various crucifixion paintings or belaboring the beauty of Botticelli's lesser known works, that is.