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Post by Scene on Nov 30, 2010 8:21:42 GMT -8
Scene smiled.
The poor girl was encouragable.
He tilted his head, letting it roll to the right so he could watch the girl in the corner. He let out a little breath before pushing himself up, walking over, and putting his left arm under the crook of her knees, his right arm behind her back. He felt like ripping her bloody (haha) heart out and smashing it in her face just to prove she had one. He walked over to the bed, entertaining the idea seriously for a moment. It would be quick, clean. She wouldnt be able to stop him....He pulled the covers over her, touching his hands to the bandages she had wrapped around his torse and legs. He hurt.
Turning around, he sort of hobbled over to the chair, sitting down it in, still naked, and putting his hands behind his head to wait for the sunrise to come fantastically through the trees. It would be a few hours yet, the ringleader mulling over a few thoughts and interesting ideas that rolled through his head as he waited for the awakening of the sleeping demon beside him.
OOC((Forgive the shortness))
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"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
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Post by Vespyr on Dec 1, 2010 0:22:26 GMT -8
The girl was unresponsive, so tangled in her frustration that she could not bring herself to move or utter a word. She lay facing away from Scene and the window, her body curled tightly, trapping the girl within herself. Her eyes were tightly closed and there was blood on her face; not a great amount, but enough so that it was unclear where it was leaking from. She remained this way for several hours without falling asleep. As the time passed, her body seemed to relax a bit more, her eyes no longer tightly shut but merely keeping the light from entering. Her hands were no longer clenching at her hair, which was carelessly strewn on the pillow. The pillow was not wet; she had not cried. Tears did not belong in her eyes.
During the hours that she remained motionless but conscious, she contemplated her memories studiously, leaving no detail amiss. She traced back as far as she had known Scene, all the way back to the dark alleyway where he first came upon her. Admittedly, she had been a pathetic excuse for a human at that time. As she recalled those first memories, she began to feel contempt for herself. So foolish, weak, and soft she had been. It was sickening, really. But she was not the same now, was she? Even the episode that had occurred several hours ago did not bother her, though it was certainly one of her more traumatic breakdowns.
Scene had changed her for the better—but would he ever be satisfied? Would he ever accept her for the way she was without feeling the need to teach her, make her stronger, tune her like an instrument and play her strings? With a churning pit in her stomach, Vespyr realized that her hope for that ‘someday’ was futile. The day would never come. This thought crawled from her stomach to her throat, where it waited for awhile before finding its way to her tongue.
“Don’t you know, you can’t expect roses to bloom, when you prune them before they even get the chance to bud? You must let them grow by themselves sometimes, or they will become gnarled and withered and dead before you ever see one flower.” After a moment of silence, Vespyr slid from the sheets and walked calmly to the door. As she reached for the handle she paused, and turned halfway back to the room, her eyes straightforward and distant. A trickle of dried blood ran down her cheek, beginning a few millimeters below the inner corner of her eye. She sighed.
“But you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ve made up my mind for you. Or you have for me, I don’t know which it is anymore.” Vespyr’s head turned slightly and her eyes slid across the room to Scene, regarding him as coldly as she would a stranger.
“My love is dead.”
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Post by Scene on Dec 1, 2010 10:47:28 GMT -8
Scene chuckled softly. " Heh." "You poor girl." He leaned on the arm of the chair, looking at her as she stood in the doorway. "I'm not trying to force you to make the roses bloom- I'm trying to force you to recognize the roses exists." He smiled. "Once you can do that, they will grow on they're own, and you'll know." He would turn back around and face forward, holding up a hand and waving it in a most lazy manner, as though to say "Yes, yes, shut the door on your way out." to whatever she responded, if she responded- he'd still do it even if she didn't. In truth, it didn't matter to him what the girl thought. Balance was required in every living thing, and if she hated anything, she loved something. It was the natural order of things. The future would prove him right- whether she loved him, her cat, her two twin goonies. Something would strike that part of her soul. He would wait, and watch with a most pleased expression as the feeling over-ran her senses. It was only a matter of circumstance, and time. Always time. He would sit in that chair until sleep took him, wondering at the events time would foretell next. OOC((I'll let you close ))
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"your hide will make a fine poncho." |
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Post by Vespyr on Dec 1, 2010 19:24:09 GMT -8
Vespyr merely closed her eyes and shook her head.
When her eyes opened again, she regarded the man in the chair with a sort of disdain and disappointment before she turned back and left, the door closing behind her with an exhausted click.
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