| under her collar. |
[15 Jan 2015|12:03am] |
[ stille . abha ]
"Abha, table four!"
"Yes!"
"Abha, table twenty!"
Shepherding food back and forth, Abha's feet pounded as she shuffled around the restaurant, fresh fried fish mingling with her sweat. It didn't win dates, but her calloused feet and dark circles weren't helping much either. Her stomach growled in hunger but churned in nausea in the heady smell of the restaurant. She paced, scurrying like a little rat with plates and baskets stacked with greasy food and overflowing glasses of beer and water. She had worked long enough to avoid messes and ramifications from her boss, the way she juggled her orders like a circus performer.
( Abha, someone's here to see you! ) |
|
| pay. |
[15 Jan 2015|12:07am] |
[ starke . calisto ]
The floors of Varonian's temple at the Cavalcade were a dark, cherry stain, so deep and so black that a man could feel the hum of a thousand heartbeats beneath his bare feet, an echoing stampede radiating from Va'ronian's bonfire. When it had first been built, smoothly sanded cedar had been the material of choice-- for scent and for longevity. And even though the scent of cedar still tinged the air with its companion cassia, kyphi, myrrh,
there was something more human in those floorboards
( oily in the grooves of the nailheads. ) |
|
| rewind. |
[15 Jan 2015|01:57pm] |
[ toska . habushu ]
please cure the disease
come on, baby, get a pretty picture of me
while the world is dreaming about gold
digging in their holes, oh, digging in their ( sleepless dreams )
we go on and we go on, go nowhere every day
we're trying to suppress that nothing matters anyway
ride and ride until you're hollow
we got no mythologies to follow |
|
| | |
