Post by Rhiannon Daigon on Mar 20, 2009 11:27:17 GMT -5
The night was caught in the most magnificent cliches of being young, and the stars were almost nowhere to be seen that night as the thick, wispy cloud cover exterminated all hope of their light shining through. As well as the sistering stars, the moon was also cut out from the thicket of its own garden, its limelight stolen by the oncoming snow. Sadly enough, probably hardly any human being or immortal alone cared about the loss of that beauty; if they did, their sorrowing would surely not go without vengeance of sorts.
Rhiannon, gifted with an irony of a virus, could still sense the beauty hidden behind the clouds. Hell, she could probably even come up with a smell for it, if she sat there and concentrated hard enough to classify the divine things in the heavens above her.
The streets of London were barren, thanks to the common excuse of winter being a time of hibernation for most. In all reality, she could care less if half of London ever came back out from its haven again; having her own air to breathe for once was actually nice. Sure, she wasn't a leper or anything, but most people in London were cold, and hatred was all around, so there was hardly any good company to be had in those days.
Within, she could feel her wolfen form writhe with anxiety from her stressors, wanting to be set free and experience what the night had to offer. But, Rhiannon had long since learned to restrain herself, and knew that it could writhe and prod all it wanted. The girl's heels clicked loudly against random cobblestone, some upgrounded from old age. It made a majestic sound as the clicks echoed into the tunnels ahead, and into the night.
The tunnels always made Rhiannon feel indifferent. It was as if she was experiencing what her kind had to go through, and see how their madness ensued from being locked up for days, months, and years, even. Entering the tunnel, Rhiannon sighed and leaned against its strong wall, closing her eyes and taking in the specter around her, sensing it out. If one listened closely, they would most likely come to hear voices of the damned, or whatever they may be. Everyone in London always claimed that the tunnels were a hotspot for odd things to happen, but was it really that suprising?
So many deaths, so many voices shattered and unheard... now was their time to beckon someone forth to talk to. And, for the evening, they had Rhiannon all to themselves.
Rhiannon, gifted with an irony of a virus, could still sense the beauty hidden behind the clouds. Hell, she could probably even come up with a smell for it, if she sat there and concentrated hard enough to classify the divine things in the heavens above her.
The streets of London were barren, thanks to the common excuse of winter being a time of hibernation for most. In all reality, she could care less if half of London ever came back out from its haven again; having her own air to breathe for once was actually nice. Sure, she wasn't a leper or anything, but most people in London were cold, and hatred was all around, so there was hardly any good company to be had in those days.
Within, she could feel her wolfen form writhe with anxiety from her stressors, wanting to be set free and experience what the night had to offer. But, Rhiannon had long since learned to restrain herself, and knew that it could writhe and prod all it wanted. The girl's heels clicked loudly against random cobblestone, some upgrounded from old age. It made a majestic sound as the clicks echoed into the tunnels ahead, and into the night.
The tunnels always made Rhiannon feel indifferent. It was as if she was experiencing what her kind had to go through, and see how their madness ensued from being locked up for days, months, and years, even. Entering the tunnel, Rhiannon sighed and leaned against its strong wall, closing her eyes and taking in the specter around her, sensing it out. If one listened closely, they would most likely come to hear voices of the damned, or whatever they may be. Everyone in London always claimed that the tunnels were a hotspot for odd things to happen, but was it really that suprising?
So many deaths, so many voices shattered and unheard... now was their time to beckon someone forth to talk to. And, for the evening, they had Rhiannon all to themselves.
