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Post by megaera on Sept 28, 2012 17:20:53 GMT -8
What happens in the mind of the potentially insane? Do they realize their sanity is slowly fading inside them? Or do they have absolutely no clue? Nobody but those named insane can tell you that answer. But, some others will always seek the answer; the answer of true insanity. True insanity... only a being that is insane can explain it, so allow me for a few more words. True insanity is... the gain of a conscience, the gain of a second mind. It lures you into traps, where there are only two ways to get out: your way, and the hard way. Most others mistakably choose their own way out, when really it is the hardest path one can choose. The hard way? A mere gain of mental control allows your passage. Your way? A mere challenge of the mind, with a dash of mind control as well. But, what can you do? The creatures lost to insanity cannot be saved. They must save themselves.
A thin girl, approximately in her late teens- nineteen she seeme to be, sat crouched underneath a low-branched sequoia tree. It was night, and one could barely see any part of her body save for her bright, golden eyes. Her eyes, they pierced a hole in the dark and set off a sort of paralyzing glow. Even though you couldn't see it, the femme was wearing a light tank top and loose, airy track pants, both of which were black in colour. On her feet she wore, well, nothing, and upon her hands were black, leather, fingerless gloves. The glint of metal could be seen on her ears, both having two rings in the lobe of her ears and three cuffs up the cartilages of her ears as well. Her platinum blonde hair, long, but not so long as to get in the way, blew gently against her face as the breeze began to pick up into winds, and the girl let it.
It was dark when she stood up on her feet. She began a run, one which was more than twice as fast a professional sprinter could manage, and while she ran her silhouette appeared blurred, almost like a ghost's figure appeared, even though she wore all black clothing. Her glowing gold eyes helped her appearance no more than a second bear would help in a raid of one's own home, after they witnessed everyone else's life being stolen from them. Well, maybe that was over-exaggerated, but who couldn't use a little exaggeration in their life? What was no lie was that she did look creepy. Her very appearance could bring a fright to anyone who didn't recognise her.
Through the long grasses of the fields, she sprinted. Her speed made her appear as a slight blur, though that came with being what she was. She ran until she reached the boundary of the flat land, where she found a large boulder. She did not slow her running, and leaped right up to the top of the huge rock, almost appearing as if she flew to the top of the gargantuan boulder. She landed on her feet gracefully, her elegance never decreasing. She crouched on her toes, facing the opposing lands. Her body rested atop the steep surface of the rock, and she closed her sparkling eyes. Someone would follow her, surely. She had no doubt at least someone would wonder where she had gone. Probably a human, though doubtably a mythical like her. But, she cared not who followed her. That was why she didn't bother to keep herself secret.
When she finally opened her eyes again, it was because she had heard something. Quietly, but surely, it was the sound of footsteps in the long grass coming towards her. She did not bother to turn around. Their scent would be enough for her to detect what species they were of.
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Years Old
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Demon
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Post by Engel Alister on Sept 29, 2012 20:50:00 GMT -8
A girl stepped out of a shadow - no, changed from shadow to girl while stepping out. She had almost white hair that barely changed colors from her skin and pale blue eyes. She wore a black dress that covered everywhere possible; black wings curled up against her back. She smelled only of death and decay. She smelled of her job. She smelled like an Angel of Death. The owner of the Reaper's Castle.
She was - ironically - well known and liked among those who actually knew her. Some people actually loved her. Something was wrong with that picture. Then again, plenty feared or hated her, but that didn't stop her from approaching someone from behind. She was a weapon even if she seemed to be stuck in the time she was raised in. A time over a hundred years ago.
"You're new. What's your name?" she asked in a honey sweet voice that was almost mocking. "Wait. Let me guess." She studied the girl with her pale eyes and tilted her head. "Megaera Breed. Am I right?" Her voice changed to seriousness as she said her name.
It was proper to introduce herself as well, but it never hurts to see if some one is actually well informed of the Keeper of Death. Desdemona. Owl. What ever someone called her. But never call her old. She is a touch sensitive on that subject.
(Sorry, History is sucking my muse dry and you had to go around and remind me of poor Jasper... Who was thrown at someone (Kurochi) who called Owl old. It was awesome!)
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