You're one microscopic cog
In his catastrophic plan,
In his catastrophic plan,
It was utterly out of character for Velorca to be lounging in the shadows alone — especially when so many delectable citizens laughed and drank around the massive bonfires. There were many elegant curves and plump lips, many wandering eyes that would have undoubtedly settled upon the sleek, flawless lines of him had he been there. Tonight though, tonight he was tired. His meeting with Alaric had drained his desire to court the handsome and the beautiful, to smile coyly and offer his services.
So he lay alone upon a massive tree trunk, partially hidden by the bitter shadows, only a glass of burning Terrastellan liquor keeping him warm as he watched the festival goers with disdain. Condescension lingered along the razor sharp bones of his face, burnt butter eyes sharp and unimpressed. He noticed her through the crowd, a bobbing wine-dark head, all slim limbs and feminine grace — but his gaze continued to wander, only lingering momentarily to appreciate the beauty of her.
She was a firefly amongst shadows, the others around her unimportant and, frankly, not up to his standard. Despite his interest, Lorca dismissed her too, casually assuming she was just another Terrastellan bumbler — all they cared for was healing and helping, supposedly selfless. Lorca snorted at the thought, taking an elegant sip of his liquor, a life spent helping others was wasted, in his opinion. What of the self? What about gold and glory and being better than others? Hierarchy settled well on Velorca's slender shoulders, even better if it crowned his silver head.
His thoughts were cut short as he noted the auburn haired girl slipping fluidly through the crowd and toward his lone perch. Lorca narrowed his long lashed eyes, releasing her from his vision only to look to the heavens in a long suffering glare. When he returned his cold gaze to earth, she was perched daintily upon the end of the log, her vast wings catching the flicker and flare of firelight. Without intending to, he found himself quite enthralled with the dance of light upon her wine soaked feathers — an ethereal and ancient attraction to the basest of beauty.
"Yet food tastes sweeter in the company of another.”
An unexpected voice, not the high pitched idiocy he had come to expect from girls with bodies like hers. The scent of honey and roasted chestnuts wafted to him, the frigid night air doing its best to thieve the smell away from him. Lorca sighed again, gracefully leaning forward into the light of the flickering flames, his svelte voice cutting toward her through the dark;
"Could you try not to attract the whole of Terrastella to my log?"
A cold glare, then his golden eyes flicked down to the sweets still steaming in front of her. He curled a lip, despite the fact that his mouth had started salivating.
"What are those anyway?"
@Cyrene he will get better I promise haha
So he lay alone upon a massive tree trunk, partially hidden by the bitter shadows, only a glass of burning Terrastellan liquor keeping him warm as he watched the festival goers with disdain. Condescension lingered along the razor sharp bones of his face, burnt butter eyes sharp and unimpressed. He noticed her through the crowd, a bobbing wine-dark head, all slim limbs and feminine grace — but his gaze continued to wander, only lingering momentarily to appreciate the beauty of her.
She was a firefly amongst shadows, the others around her unimportant and, frankly, not up to his standard. Despite his interest, Lorca dismissed her too, casually assuming she was just another Terrastellan bumbler — all they cared for was healing and helping, supposedly selfless. Lorca snorted at the thought, taking an elegant sip of his liquor, a life spent helping others was wasted, in his opinion. What of the self? What about gold and glory and being better than others? Hierarchy settled well on Velorca's slender shoulders, even better if it crowned his silver head.
His thoughts were cut short as he noted the auburn haired girl slipping fluidly through the crowd and toward his lone perch. Lorca narrowed his long lashed eyes, releasing her from his vision only to look to the heavens in a long suffering glare. When he returned his cold gaze to earth, she was perched daintily upon the end of the log, her vast wings catching the flicker and flare of firelight. Without intending to, he found himself quite enthralled with the dance of light upon her wine soaked feathers — an ethereal and ancient attraction to the basest of beauty.
"Yet food tastes sweeter in the company of another.”
An unexpected voice, not the high pitched idiocy he had come to expect from girls with bodies like hers. The scent of honey and roasted chestnuts wafted to him, the frigid night air doing its best to thieve the smell away from him. Lorca sighed again, gracefully leaning forward into the light of the flickering flames, his svelte voice cutting toward her through the dark;
"Could you try not to attract the whole of Terrastella to my log?"
A cold glare, then his golden eyes flicked down to the sweets still steaming in front of her. He curled a lip, despite the fact that his mouth had started salivating.
"What are those anyway?"
@Cyrene he will get better I promise haha
