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+---- Thread: [AW] fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly (/showthread.php?tid=5522)
fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly - Andromeda - 09-06-2020
You got me with your beat of love, I never wanna come out
andromeda walks the path towards rapax river like an angel lost. she dances like soft silk, between the slim pine trees of delumine. her breath is sensual and ragged, when it falls lightly past her lips, unfurling in the winter chill. hunger, makes an eclipse for the shadows of her heart. her soul feels both dead and hungry, for the salivating way her gaze hooks against cold, shivering flesh. when she spots something moving in the distance, her fiery gaze become hot blades, etched upon the chaste image of an ermine rabbit. andromeda watches the rabbit's eyes widen with blood-shot terror, then scamper off into the woods, tail held high. it is only a white-furred speck, a fleeing creature, disappearing off into the remote distance. there is apart of her that wants to chase the rabbit and run it into the earth, in a sea of red. to dash its visceral entrails, along the pale snow, till they look like strewn petals spread out before the ashes of a funeral pyre.
there is apart of her that begs to sink her fangs into tender flesh and tear. tear it asunder. like a wolf tears into mangled flesh, bone, too hungry to feel mercy, where instinct prevailed. but there is a softness in andromeda, too. a tenderness within her delicate, girlish skeleton. with a jaded sigh, she lets the rabbit disappear without following it into the forest. her hair falls over her face. smooth pin-straight lavender, rippling across her cheekbones like a soft, seductive veil. she does not feel hungry, physically. flesh does not sustain. will never sustain. o, it is her mind and heart, that starves instead. something feels empty within. something feeds her emptiness. she does not know what this emptiness is, and yet she feels it. consuming her worlds, from within. consuming her and possessing her like black magic possesses its victims. dark. cursed. beautiful.
when hot sunlight, pours over her sensuous physique, andromeda looks absolutely heavenly. starved light creeps angelic, against her slender curves. an eternal flame of desire, how she glistens wildly beneath the sun. yet parts of her memory falls like disjointed limbs. blood. soul. fire. she remembers dying in the fire. she remembers the scalding heat of it's violent caress. being consumed alive by flames. being destroyed over and over again. designed by heaven's light, andromeda is the pure manifestation of ethereal beauty. she is soft and graceful like poetry. she is wild and wicked like the songs of wolves, howling for the hunt by midnight. she is soft in ways minks are soft; both silky, slender and deadly. her smile is warm like sunlight. but her heart feels sad and alone, when she looks into the distance, where the rabbit once grazed. this must be loneliness, she thinks. this must be what living feels like.
her heart feels distorted. her thoughts are broken. her mind feels ravaged. none of her feels right, when her delicate form dances along the edge of the woods, and upon finally reaching the river's edge, only then does she drink from the cool well of water to sate her thirsts.
Think of me, You're always in the dark
I am your light, your light, your light
RE: fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly - Baja - 09-08-2020
Once you start traveling it’s sort of the end of things, isn’t it?That insatiable new cell in your brain that says What if? What next? What else? Or maybe it’s just that he’s been that way forever, and he constantly shifts and changes his goal posts. First out of Tinea, then out of Terrastella, then out of Ruris, then to Day Court. Then he was there and what he wanted next seemed much further all the sudden, when it should have been closer than ever.
Baja rises early in the morning. More than not being able to fall back asleep, the want to sleep has completely left him. Exorcised by a feeling stronger than insomnia: restlessness. The morning is dark and damp and his legs quiver to walk, far.
He stops at the oasis to watch the sun come up over the ocean. The oasis water is cooled from the night air and gives him a chill when it runs down his chin, but the melting sky staves off a shudder.
Just as the sun comes high and hot on his back, he reaches the edge of the forest. The damp forest smell reminds him of home. And mold. Nonetheless, the shade sounds nice when his body persists, and he continues the day’s walk.
The sound of the rapids finally shakes him.
Snow crunches and melts beneath him as he stands at the edge, contemplating the roar. After a moment's reflection, he follows the river to a quieter turn and it's there he sees her across it.
She sets apart the snow like the embers of a dying fire, her back the cinders and her belly the encroaching decay. Baja watches her, head lifted so he's staring over the tip of his nose. He watches her swallow, he watches her close her eyes in relief. He smells, faintly, something half like spice and half like a spell.
When he's sure she's opened her eyes to see him, his voice is cool saccharine. "Nothing like runnin' water, huh?"
RE: fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly - Andromeda - 09-24-2020
blood to the moonlight. slipping out of your
bones, and slithering into the soul of someone else
It is dreadfully silent beyond the falls; save for the stirring of her heartbeat, and the kiss-and-tell rivers, that pour through the earth with their many icy mouths. The river-waters bristle, like crystalline furs upon a ghoulish wind. Against the blooming forest-darkness, Andromeda purrs, too; slipping beneath the shadowy-penumbra with each delicate, feline hiss. Winter shades paints the landscape a bone-white thing; pale desire, weaving amongst the pines, in spells of silver-wild; all that which screamed for the promise of winter's howling violence. Andromeda, however, so loves the frigid cold; she loves the thick pine trees, drizzled in heavy snows, that which swayed in wintry rhythms and bewitching shadow.
A single breeze stirs overhead, ruffling Andromeda's too-long hair; smoothing down buxom curves with a wintry sigh. Andromeda dances with the darkness she feels in her heart, drawn to the musky scent of virility, layered like whiskey amongst the wilderness. Her heart pulses like a wardrum, with each step she takes - each beat singing with passion in the violent fable-rise of the river-mist. In the distance, the surging azuline-waters could be heard pounding the ragged grey below; its breathless whispers that infinitely tease, brushing hellward and violently spilling across the jagged rocks. Andromeda lifts her gaze, slowly; a fiery ritual of witch-like decadence.
She draws nearer to him, descending the sides of the river, till she finds the dark-skinned titan amongst the whiteness of winter, all by himself. Her steps were like a leopardess'; smooth footfalls silent and coyly feline among the waters. She leans against a moist boulder, licking her pale lips, subtly. Her lavender hair spills across her shoulders. Andromeda is both candour and celestial femininity, as she catches him with her amber-wicked gaze. Her body is slender and infinitely lithe; their saccharine-sweet melody, unfolding across sun-kissed curves; her jasmine-touched skin, glimmering against long, porcelain points and their impossible slenderness. Andromeda is draped in a gown of fire. Even as winter embraces her, Andromeda glows, glows; her embers, flickering and growling, against her slender, girlish form.
"You should taste the water," A warm croon hopes to find him, her syllables dripping, effortlessly. Her amber gaze, draws a hard piercing line along his lean form, carefully studying the shadows of his face and body. Andromeda is analyzing, observing, and gracefully stoic. There is apart of her that wants to come closer; she wants to press her lips to his brow, and taste all the places he'd been, but she is cautious of him, yet. "It is sweet," Her whisper is dark, and soft; an alluring whisper, made more for dreams than they do reality. Even for all her flames, her words flow as hot as black ice. Winter dances along her lips, and her smile becomes as faint as a newly-born moon.
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