Broken Little Toy
(?)Community Member
Offline
- Posted: Wed, 24 Nov 2004 05:31:48 +0000
Hello,
I am new as you can likely see ^_^. In any case here is Broken's first post, her intro so to speak.
She sits in the corner, her eyes which look green from up close and grey from far away stare around at the inhabitants of the lodge idly as though she did not truly give a damn at what she gazed upon. Yet there was something deeper in her eyes something more special than the mer color of them, and if you looked close enough you might be able to see it. It was a emotion that was easy to distinguish, her eyes showed that she was broken inside, her soul ripped to shreds, emotions long gone from the ravishment of others. Its been said that the eyes are the window to the soul and that was truer than anything when it came to her, they showed everything that had ever happened, every horror that had ever darkened her doorstep, every hurt and agony she had endured in her short life time. As her eyes would pass over each and every face in the room they would feel a chill, something that went inside and touched their souls with ice, goose bumps would raise on their skin as their brain registered the coldness of such a look. If they did turn to gaze upon her they would see a pale figure, short in stature and small in frame, her bones showing in sharp protrusion; her hair would be shortly cut, hanging around her small face in a limp sort of fashion, having no life to it just like the rest of her. If they did not turn from such a pitiful sight but choose to continue to gaze upon it and look yet deeper they would see the scars that marred her arms, small straight cuts that started at her wrists and went up to her shoulders, testimony of the times she had given up, and in desperation grabbed a sharp blade, forcing it upon her pale skin till ribbons of crimson fled from the marks. Once noting the marks on her hands their eyes would glance down her body, seeing the thin rags that were worn and falling apart, the things barely hanging upon her body, so dirty that the once white clothe had been turned to a black, the occasional color of crimson being seen splattered upon it. Their eyes would fall further down, nothing the cuts and scars that adorned her legs as well, they would feel a great sympathy for this sad little creature. As their eyes would come to her feet they would see that she wore no shoes, her feet red and ugly from years of abuse on open streets, roughened from hard concrete and necessity of them being tough enough to survive the cold winters. Survive...ah what a funny word... Still none of this was as haunting or wretched as her eyes, there was just something about them that called out to all that dared to look in them, something that would make them want to reach out and place a gentle hand upon her, give her some warmth or comfort...yes..there was something and that something was to be their death.
I am new as you can likely see ^_^. In any case here is Broken's first post, her intro so to speak.
She sits in the corner, her eyes which look green from up close and grey from far away stare around at the inhabitants of the lodge idly as though she did not truly give a damn at what she gazed upon. Yet there was something deeper in her eyes something more special than the mer color of them, and if you looked close enough you might be able to see it. It was a emotion that was easy to distinguish, her eyes showed that she was broken inside, her soul ripped to shreds, emotions long gone from the ravishment of others. Its been said that the eyes are the window to the soul and that was truer than anything when it came to her, they showed everything that had ever happened, every horror that had ever darkened her doorstep, every hurt and agony she had endured in her short life time. As her eyes would pass over each and every face in the room they would feel a chill, something that went inside and touched their souls with ice, goose bumps would raise on their skin as their brain registered the coldness of such a look. If they did turn to gaze upon her they would see a pale figure, short in stature and small in frame, her bones showing in sharp protrusion; her hair would be shortly cut, hanging around her small face in a limp sort of fashion, having no life to it just like the rest of her. If they did not turn from such a pitiful sight but choose to continue to gaze upon it and look yet deeper they would see the scars that marred her arms, small straight cuts that started at her wrists and went up to her shoulders, testimony of the times she had given up, and in desperation grabbed a sharp blade, forcing it upon her pale skin till ribbons of crimson fled from the marks. Once noting the marks on her hands their eyes would glance down her body, seeing the thin rags that were worn and falling apart, the things barely hanging upon her body, so dirty that the once white clothe had been turned to a black, the occasional color of crimson being seen splattered upon it. Their eyes would fall further down, nothing the cuts and scars that adorned her legs as well, they would feel a great sympathy for this sad little creature. As their eyes would come to her feet they would see that she wore no shoes, her feet red and ugly from years of abuse on open streets, roughened from hard concrete and necessity of them being tough enough to survive the cold winters. Survive...ah what a funny word... Still none of this was as haunting or wretched as her eyes, there was just something about them that called out to all that dared to look in them, something that would make them want to reach out and place a gentle hand upon her, give her some warmth or comfort...yes..there was something and that something was to be their death.
