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 Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2016 12:53 am
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2018 8:12 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 12:21 pm
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✺
So flown freely from the bank of the lake, the fallen angel fell through the foreboding air and flitted down to solid ground near the fence of a formidable city. He thanked his ability to secure safe travels for negating much of the damage that would've been accrued on such a journey; his skin only remembered traced of burns from the lightning strikes that assailed him as he flew.
He had a look around, finding members of his former alliance--angels, they were called; some other name he was meant for--and others, even humans, rushing about, dancing, sing, fighting, making it known that romance would persist during any times and especially in boredom. Some were reminiscing; some were busy living. It came to be that Imamiah was entertained. After a while of this roaming about, it was learned that this was a city in the vampire's domain. Yes, that sounded right. A short while after that, it was clear that those who had been assumed human were actually of that pale aristocracy.
Funny, that. Imamiah couldn't help but muse at the prideful, defiant stares in the eyes of what had to be some of the more disenfranchised lot he'd seen in ages--thus the assumption, and thus his surprise when he was in the den of these starved lions--and he found that he was looking at hyenas, merely pretending to be lions. Maybe he was too arrogant. Could it not be concluded that this was where the spirit of nobility was?
...No. Imamiah searched and found that he was not on the menu tonight. His eyes showed a similar, albeit faint, glow akin in color to the vampires wishing him to die so that they might live. He was a man of results; he flew; he was caught; he learned that nobility was more than an attitude after all. Damnit.
Seeing that the group was immortal, to do battle with them was proving to be futile. Seeing this, Imamiah took flight again and found that the lightning put a breath of space between himself and the hungry, pursuing flock. He kept flying, finally losing that whooping tail as he found the silhouette of a larger mansion emerge from its two-dimensional shell and press him to land because of its sheer impressiveness. He found himself in a courtyard, searching through hedges for what must have been an hour.
Finally, he saw an opening. On the other side of that maze stood a fountain, and it rained blood into the skyline. There was a woman there, looking quite distracted. Imamiah didn't have to be a genius to have his suspicions: he was at a vampire's home, wasn't he?
"Excuse me..." The fallen angel approached tentatively, so as not to disturb the woman sitting there with her mind occupied by her sketching. The remnants of lightning-heat rolled off him as the occasional mist of blood from the fountain splashed him. His wings wee folded behind him, giving the impression that his form was always font-lit and a great shadow burst from him. "...but I'm afraid I'm lost," he admitted with some embarrassment, watching the woman's face for her reaction.
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 2:56 pm
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l Mood ➤: Sad l Location ➤: Blood Fountain l Company ➤: ??? l Item/s ➤: Sketch Book
One reason Ashken liked to spend her time at the fountain was because it was quiet. No one to disturb her, to bother her, to complain, nothing. Sometimes the silence is nice. Ashken smiled as her pencil moved weightlessly across her paper, the image in her head was successful being brought to life. Sketching was one way the woman could put her mind at ease. Having three kids running around can get very stressful...
The quiet soon changed and Ashken could feel a presence near her. It wasn't threatening, so she decided to shrug it off and continue with her distraction. It seemed like the presence was lost in the hedges anyways... until it wasn't any longer. A voice broke the silence and Ashken looked up to see where it was coming from. There stood a man, dark hair and bright eyes, wings folded up behind him. He didn't give off a threatening aura, in fact it was a weak, mixed aura. Which made much more sense after he spoke to her. Lost..? she thought as she stared at the man.
Closing her sketch book and setting it to the side, Ashken placed her hands on her lap and shook her head. You are lost? It is very hard to find this place... You are standing in the home for Vampires.... Ashken could see the embarrassment in the mans face, and that made her want to giggle. A smile formed on her lips. Who are you? What are you? You certainly are not of our kind.
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 7:04 pm
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✺
And why was he watching her face? Obvious, right? You just said so, Dr. Narrator--oh, please, call me mister Doctor Narrator is my father--He was gauging her reaction--WRONG!--Well, partly, yes, but that was quickly becoming an afterthought; the fallen angel was smitten and felt his lowly heart threaten to descend again as he met eyes with the porcelain beauty before him. The subtle micro-reactions she displayed were like watching a brave ballet to him, and her golden irises held him in a warming effervescence like the smolder of a setting sun. Those lips, so poised, so softly holding each word until they were fully developed and ready to fly, melted him like an expensive chocolate.
He found himself stammering, coming so close to shaking his head as one might when startled, by self or other, out of a daydream with or without form, with or without reason, with embarrassment, without a damn thing to say to make himself look like he wasn't a fool. "Vampires," he said softly, to himself more than to her. "I... --" a little louder--"I was chased by vampires from the city," he said. The beauty had also asked about him, to which the fallen one bowed softly, more from the neck than the torso, and answered, "My name is Imamiah, and I am--or was--an angel." A shrug. "Suppose it looks ridiculous for my kind to be here. I hope I didn't disturb your drawing."
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 8:13 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 8:31 pm
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✺
"Yes, well..." That was somewhat embarrassing. Imamiah wasn't sure what to make of himself in this situation. He was being laughed at--albeit somewhat coquettishly--and forget about what sparks erupted in the angel's mind when he was made aware of her body by her every motion--and this, to be attracted, attractive, because one was cutely funny, it was something that made Imamiah itch worse than the lightning. "... Then maybe I should leave..."
In lieu of his staring, now painfully aware of himself, the angel fixed his attention on the ground and studied the stones beneath his feet as he was being studied with much different M.O. He found it hard to believe that one of her kind had not met one of his before, but it was just as reasonable as anything else when he considered his condition and the specialty that implied. He rocked back and forth, ball to heel, and tried to steady his speech. "I... Well, I was lost, I suppose. In the storm, I could scarce see anything but the manor, and so I decided to land." He sighed, letting that whole business go. As he did this, his wings undulate once, producing a dull rustle from the energised air. His eyes went to the book in her hand. "You sure? It looks like you were drawing. In my time, I've learned to appreciate art as one of the best things a human can do..." He laughed embarrassedly. "--I didn't mean that! You're clearly not a lowly human... Though it is interesting that you'd take up one of their hobbies..." He found himself switching between eye contact and watching the floor, now bouncing and rippling with the fantastically fleeting reflections of raindrops, in order to avoid staring at her perfect body.
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 8:56 pm
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l Mood ➤: Sad l Location ➤: Blood Fountain l Company ➤: Imamiah l Item/s ➤: Sketch Book
The man was nervous, and Ashken could tell. It was rather amusing to the vampire~ She noticed how he stared at her, not just her, but her eyes, her body, and most definitely her bosom. As she walked behind the fallen angel, her hands softly brushed his wings. Interesting.... They were soft to the touch, which was sort of surprising to her. Ashken herself had wings, yet they were smooth to the touch. Weird how different species wings felt different.
At the mention of a storm, Ashken looked up to the sky. It was true there were dark clouds, however there usually were in their homeland. A storm... she muttered to herself. She never liked rain, mainly because she never liked the feeling of wet clothes on her skin. The woman stopped once more in front of him and stared. Since he was staring heavily at the ground, on occasion looking up to her, Ashken listened to him compare her to a human, then quickly state that he didn't mean his words. Never had she met a man who acted like this around her, given she did her best to avoid men. Shhhh... Ashken sounded as she placed a finger upon his lips. You are fine~ I didn't take anything as an insult. Lowering her finger, she looked back up at the sky. I took up sketching and painting after the change. It soothes me and keeps my mind from wandering. Do you have hobbies? Ashken crossed her arms once more and waited for a response.
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 9:09 pm
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✺
And she even touched him? No... Imamiah had grown too used to being scum, to being called such to his face everyday, such that it was his identity, that it was his anchor, his world, that he quite forgot how to act when he was complimented so. And when she touched his lips...
"I..." he was muffled; he stopped and looked down at her stupidly. She was staring at him, and he squirmed without moving, save a dumb blink and the remnant of a thinking stammer, the like the old men in parks use to communicate to themselves--the spheres--when playing pawing out a move in chess--well... at least she wasn't cross with him. "One should spend eternity however one wishes," he said, nodding and stretching his wings. "I... Well, in the army, one has little free time; I mainly train, but when I have the chance, I like music, maybe some poetry..."
He gestured to the grand view around them. "Is... this your mansion?"
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 9:23 pm
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l Mood ➤: Sad l Location ➤: Blood Fountain l Company ➤: Imamiah l Item/s ➤: Sketch Book
There was that look again, it was amusing to Ashken. However, there was a hint of something else in this look....it was something that she knew all to well. You are not use to soft contact. she stated. She couldn't blame him, she wasn't either. Slowly, she reached her hand up and rubbed his head. Ashken hated those she didn't know, but she could always feel the aura of someone who was lost.
Poetry... such a romantic subject, yet it seems so lost these days... Ashken could remember when she was 15, and her mother read her poetry in her free time. She never understood the lure until she was much older. Lowering her hand, Ashken looked around, mimicking the man. Hm? No, this isn't mine. It is the vampire manor, in which all of our kind live together. Kind of like.... a town for humans. I did live in a place like this however...
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 9:35 pm
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✺
Was... She having pity on him? Her touch felt so good, he almost didn't mind. One of his own hands reach partway up to hers, but something in him wouldn't allow the two to meet. It was enough for him not to zoom away into the lightning in shame, but the way of the slave was not to do such things. A prisoner in his own mind, the freedom to emotion, to will, was simply not there, and Imamiah found it appropriate that he sighed and smiled instead. "It's been a long time..." he whispered.
He began to step, finding the stonework around the fountains much to his liking. Vain, perhaps, but this was his style after all. He shielded himself from spattered blood as he passed the fountain. "Poetry is much more than that. I remember when it was invented. A good day," he said somewhat flatly. He turned to face her again, trying his best not to stare. "I see. You vampires stick together then? It seems the opposite for demons."
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 9:46 pm
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l Mood ➤: Sad l Location ➤: Blood Fountain l Company ➤: Imamiah l Item/s ➤: Sketch Book
Ashken was right, the man certainly didn't get much kindness and affection in his life. Hearing his soft words, she nodded and looked away. Seems she wasn't the only one... Her ears perked as she heard him start to walk around, and she turned to watch. Imamiah was interesting, yet odd. I am afraid I know very little of the subject...I only know what was read to me as a child and that was many years ago. Ashken probably would have loved poetry if she hadn't been locked away for 17 years. The thought sent a shiver down her spine and she closed her eyes for a moment.
Vampires stick together... This was true to an extent. They weren't like witches who lived in a coven, yet they understood each other. Kind of. Vampires understand each other because we all understand the pain and suffering it took to get where we are today. If we don't help each other, then the risk of death is greater... The old teach the new, where not to go, what not to do, and what to do if something bad happens. Isn't that how angels are? Ashken took a few steps towards the man before taking a seat back at the fountain. She placed her book down and looked at him. Each vampire has a different past.... so sometimes it is hard for some to blend together. Ashken knew this well, because she was one of them.
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 10:01 pm
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✺
Her words were interesting to Imamiah. The angel nodded softly and followed suit, finding that it was best as this was not his house. He came to sit next to her, willing himself not to be a baby about it and sat a couple hand's distance from the alluring vampress. His wings were held overhead, stopping the blood from falling on him and now, thanks to proximity, her.
The angel shook his head. "No. Among the angels, there are two things one should know: what one's orders are and who to blame if they are not carried out. The second question is always answered the same: you. You are the one to blame." His eyes fell again. "Because of that, each angel is like an island." Something of a chuckle escaped his wry lips. "It is said that an angel does not exist until they are needed. We are our duty." He shook his head, stopping himself and having a listen to what she was saying.
"That must be nice, to understand each other," he said somewhat wistfully. He shrugged. "Sounds like you mastered what we could not."
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 10:17 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2018 10:32 pm
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