Post by qayin geitz on Mar 1, 2010 3:49:04 GMT -5
furtive maiden;
[/size][/font]clinging to coherency,
by a thread, you say?
by a thread, you say?
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She tilted her head - left and right, left and right - as if working out those troublesome, yet reoccurring kinks contracted from uncomfortable positions. In terms of sleeping, she had always somehow managed to create the worst possible scenarios. This case, the term wrong side of the bed could be taken quite literally, and figuratively. Yes, Qayin was a disgruntled soul in the mornings (never mind the fact that it was the early afternoon), but she was quite a changeable soul either way.
The bright lights that serenely illuminated the quarters only managed to hurt her pupils further as she prowled across the tight-packed spaces. Though life at the asylum was far from dull, she did find the routine slightly pathetic, and somewhat repetitive. Many of those wandering were discombobulated figures, heralding their gallant arrival with nary a care nor worry in the world - trumpeting their victories, or loudly complaining of their unfortunate failures. That's not presume or imply that all ANTi-HOLiC members were like that. If anything, she rather preferred the overt displays, rather than the subtle mind games those HOLiCs loved to indulge themselves in.
As if it was an intimidation technique they decided to partake in - would it work? Certainly not against her, but against others, possibly. Those of shorter temper than she, it all depended on this and that, and those gray areas in between the knotted spaces. Boisterous as she was in action, there was very little that was capable of translating strength into something akin to a frail will against temptation. To fly in fury, to rip in anger, to gnash one's teeth against the pinnacles of another's dreams of a deeper reality... it further progressed against the very inner workings of her thoughts, left to simmer and boil until she would ultimately forget.
Qayin would never settle for a thing - or more so, she couldn't. Every step contributed to the next, and the next, and the next. She didn't sit for very long, nor did she stand for an extended period of time. As one once said, you can never step into the same river twice - it flows, and rushes, and spreads the purity of crystallized droplets against paled skin. Against ivory fingers, they tainted the spread of taint, and saved the saviors as they delegated.
Ah, but she loved this idea - the idea of redemption, by the blackest of sins. So dark, it ebbed and eroded the tints of night of which one embraced the brazen - their coy mistresses that lay in bashful desire. On the edge, over the flowery muse and forward, until they could take it no more. Those who would fall, deeper into purgatory, would learn their ambitions as false, yet they wished not to take truth by face value. A sweeter dream, that would never taste upon forbidden lips.
But she was getting ahead of herself, here. For her attention had strained against the tension, focusing instead on relieving her regenerative mind with an active conversationalist - or fighter, if she so desired a brawl. The latter was not an impossibility, she mused, reveling in the factors of combat and blood stains. To press a bruise for show, to salt a wound for glory - morbid! she would cry, with the ululations vibrating against her breast. In reality, she would never be adverse frantic displays of bravery.
One may freely staple sadist upon the unholy brow, but she really did rather the term resourceful enjoyment. After all, how many times did one get to kill without repenting, without apologies... without tears? Well, tears that never scalded one's cheek personally, of course. Though the ties between persons were debatable - for yes, even the insane and stressed could still find those interpersonal relationships rewarding.
The idea of matching wit and experience with a fellow - fiercely loyal as she was, a spar never hurt one's practice and skills - only consequential in terms of physical deformities. Though many should have come to expect it by now.
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TAGS ! - open~
SONG ! - miss shanghai, the shanghai restoration project
LETTERS ! - 667
NOTES ! - anyone/all can join if they wish ^^~~