Excitement flooded the air and Crystal could do nothing but smile at the passing teenagers who entered the gates to the carnival. Some of them ran ahead and shouted rowdily with their friends, that was usually the males of the groups, but she also saw couples swaying hand in hand through the crowds as well. Those were the things that made her grin and also made her long at the same time. She’d made it by herself for so long, what would be the sense in changing that now? The wind kicked up wisps of sand through the carnival and the smell of cotton candy permeated through the air. Crystal’s stomach growled and answered the floating scent. Maybe later… She thought and glanced at her hips. Maybe never.
Even though the woman analyzed her figure so, she actually looked better with a bit of meat on her bones. At this point in her life, she had soft, flowing curves met by flat planes of equally soft skin. Crystal looked like another teenager in the crowd with jeans that rose low on her hips and a loose, button up shirt unbuttoned enough to hint at the very full grown cleavage that growing up had given her. A gray hoodie stayed unzipped but covered her arms in the cool night air of spring in Anarab. The hood stayed off as well, leaving her hair to flow down past her shoulders in soft, full waves until it reached her elbows and ended. She’d tucked half of it up in an abrupt style that left most of it down, with strands flowing around her face. For the first night in a while, she got out of the house and visited another city. The Elder would spend the night here, in Anarab like she had done so many times before returning to Genil, she had never turned in the keys and had continued paying for the small, crude apartment on the lowerside of town. Perhaps it was a small escape, then again, maybe it was a guilty indulgence. She loved this city, but not like she loved Genil. Anarab had a spark, a seduction, and unlike her clean city, it had a spice of violence and lust that flavored it delicately. It was fine her for to live a life that she’d left long ago… at least for a night.
Crystal could feel her own heartbeat in her throat as she approached the flashing lights in the darkness of the carnival. She entered through a side gate and looked up in awe at the wooden roller coaster that seemed to tangle through the entire park. Swishing in the darkness, the ride had no lights on the track or on the cars, so it seemed as if it was shooting through the night sky, with nothing to hold or stop it. An involuntary shiver scooted down Crystal’s back as she felt a swish of air shoot past her head and knew that those were the cars of the coaster rolling only 2 foot above her head. The woman ducked her head unconsciously at the thought of the roller coaster crashing into her forehead and continued walking. Her feet crunched in the thick, sandy gravel as the dust started to cover the tips of her boots. The pointy heels handled the terrain well and fit her comfortably, making the slight bumps in the ground feel like nothing to her feet.
A scream pierced the night, hollow and terrified, until it was cut off by what could only be the muffle of a hand. Crystal’s head snapped up immediately, her sapphire eyes burning with only one question. “Who.” She scanned the area and could only breathe normally after she realized it was just one of the teenagers she’d seen earlier. Her date and hefted her up and thrown her over his shoulder, it was merely a flirtatious scream of false fear. Letting her lungs fill with the relief of fresh air, the Elder exhaled quickly, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath. A flush had tinted her cheeks in that instant the adrenaline hit her system, and her eyes glittered with both fear and anger. She’d thought for just a moment it had been him again. But that wasn't possible, not here, not now. She surveyed the place around her again, turning about face from a quick paced walk she’d been moving across the carnival with. As she turned, her chin connected with a tall man’s chest and she felt her neck jerk backward. Crystal stumbled, almost fell but was caught by the man’s lean, yet muscled arm. With a glance up, she realized that this was one of the carnival workers, evident by the long, multi-colored hair and the earrings that glittered in his ears. He wore a costume made of billowy silk and a wide grin, as well. He dusted her off and set her straight, tipped the turban on his head and continued on the way. Not a word was spoken through the entire exchange and Crystal was thankful for that. Freaking out in public was embarrassing for her, even though that was becoming a regular occurrence nowadays. Since the dreams had started, she’d not had a fully restful night and sometimes, the dreams blurred into her daily life for only a moment. The claws, the eyes, the voice… They returned for a split second and then, once again they were gone.
Shaking her head slowly, Crystal let the sounds of the night return to her. The sounds of a carousel sparked a quick smile from the Elder and she moved toward the sounds. In the middle of the carnival, a massive merry-go-round rose high off the ground. The mirrors reflected images of wild horses, unicorns, and even chariot attached purebred horses. Lights shone brightly and created a glow of innocence and purity, yet left questions about the purpose of the ride as a whole. It moved slowly, ominously along with a pulsing beat. Though, Crystal knew if she was to board it, she would get slowly dizzy at the speed and movement. For her, being on a children’s ride would have made her more sick than spinning around at Mach one on one of the adult rides.
The sun had long since set by the time Crystal had moved around the entire park and had got a bearing on just how large it was. A familiar tune hit her ears as she passed by a booth and she hummed along under her breath. She couldn’t remember a time when she had asked anyone to accompany her to go anywhere, then again, she hadn’t asked a lot of people to invade her personal life in the last centuries. No one knew on her on the inside, except for a select few that she had chosen to let see her life in the past weeks. They knew the story of her life but they didn’t know how alone she felt. She never told them that part, partly because the woman never liked for anyone to pity her or change their ways for her. Never being a burden to anyone and taking on everyone else’s burdens… That was her motto in life and that was the way she lived. Some would have said that was unfair to her, but she merely figured it was the way she was meant to live life. She wasn’t beyond having fun, though. Fun was something she’d enjoyed many times in the past and would enjoy many times in the future. No one and nothing could destroy the childlike passion that rose in her eyes when she approached something she saw as exciting, and the thing that did would be damned for eternity. Decimating that brief flicker of eternal hope would be killing the very thing that kept Crystal Dinaia alive and inspired so many others to keep on living.
Crystal entered the first attraction that struck her as funny for the night. Fun-house mirrors had always made her smile and she entered with a glance that plunged her into darkness. Her blue eyes searched the pitch black tent until she found a spotlight bulb in front of the first mirror. It made her eyes tear up with pent up laughter, to see herself so discombobulated and at first she snickered, then began to howl with giggles as she went through each and every mirror. At the last one, it had curtains made of black velvet pulled across it. The sign up above it stated “THE WEIRDEST ONE YET!!!” in red letters and Crystal excitedly yanked the golden rope. The mirror stared back at her and was completely normal in each and every way. Yet, the woman’s breath still caught in her throat. It was the smile that spread across her face so naturally, yet brought out all of the beauty in her plain face that stopped her short. She could see her own chest heave in the mirror reflection and the smile evaporated as easily as it had come, leaving her self-conscious and implanting the will for her to stay calm and meek through the rest of the night. Pushing through the curtains, Crystal re-entered the sound filled night and felt the feeling drift away, along with the ache in her stomach.
The Elder felt a hand on her shoulder as she exited the hall of mirrors and she jumped automatically. A woman dressed in what appeared to be nothing but silk scarves looked at her with emerald eyes behind yet another scarf that covered her face. In a low voice, she whispered, “Do you want to try your luck?” Crystal could have laughed automatically but she didn’t, merely smiled back at the woman and answered her question, “I’ve died once and I’m here, I think I can afford to try my luck just one time… But how much will it cost me?” As they approached a small booth the Elder beamed. Now, looking at the selection of things she could win, she knew she’d have to at least try to win something out of the game. Arabian chains and gold silk scarves hung from the rafters of the booth and Crystal looked at the game before her. Archery… A sly smile took over the woman’s face and she tested the small bow. It wasn’t the same size as the one she’d once tried at the Festival, but it would do. Is there anything else I can help you with? Oh God Lumen… it’s a dragon. Isn’t he cute? The Festival of Lights flashed back to her as she threaded the arrow and focused on the target. She took her stance and immediately hit the target, only inches away from a bull’s eye. Inches away couldn’t do though. After a few more beautifully placed shots, the prize of her choosing was in her hands and she admired it slowly. One of the gold silk scarves shot through with tiny ruby red threads felt like pure heaven in her hands. She walked away slowly from the booth, looping the scarf through the belt loops of her dark jeans. It was long and the tail of it, even after it was tied, hung down to mid-thigh off of her hip. It swayed nicely with her hips as she walked on through the rest of the games and returned to the rides in the carnival. The past was a dangerous subject, better left alone if she wanted to keep her pleasant mood up.
The fliers for the park boasted that it had the oldest operational Ferris wheel in the world, and though Crystal couldn’t remember seeing another anywhere else, she was tempted by the glitz and glam to go see it. She suddenly felt dwarfed as she approached it and looked up at the wheel, the height of it astonishing her on impact. A short carny barked at her, asking her if she was going up and she nodded numbly, walking up onto the planks and taking her seat, handing him the money for the ride blindly as she did so. As the wheel lifted off the ground, Crystal’s fear of heights suddenly hit her like a sucker-punch to the stomach. The Elder immediately swayed and grabbed both sides of the seat her eyes opened wide as the height increase and she swore she felt the pressure in her ears changed. She whimpered almost instinctively and tucked her knees against her chest, trying to concentrate on anything but the lack of anything under her. The woman’s azure eyes scanned the horizon and she felt her stiff body begin to relax. The ride was gentle, though the sound was quite grating from the old Ferris wheel. It felt as if she was floating in the dark night sky and if she had the courage to lean up out of the cart, she could graze a star or two with her bare fingertips. It never occurred to her that they were millions upon millions of miles away at the moment, it just made her wonder if grazing a star with her fingertips would burn the pale flesh. Innocence and naiveté were allowed tonight, though she never encouraged it. The night air caused her hoodie to flap slightly and she zipped it up, thankful for the clinging motion it made to her sides. The confinement of her clothing almost made her feel as if she was safer than she had been before. The ride lasted for a good fifteen minutes and Crystal rode the waves of the wheel. When it rose into the sky, so did she.. but when it hit the ground, she was more than ready to flee the contraption.
A breath of relief left her again as she hit the ground, her heels crunching into solid dirt. Crystal closed her eyes for a moment and continued to walk through the carnival. A roaring sound hit her ears from far away, as if an angry swarm of bees was approaching or a storm was battering a coastline off in the distance. Her eyes narrowed in concern as she watched the horizon closely, then saw the wind pushing a wall of uplifted sand off of the ground toward the carnival. A few shrieks could be heard among the crowd as they searched for shelter and Crystal felt her body instinctively move toward the larger buildings at a face paced run. The wave of sand was encroaching on the outskirts of the carnival and the pulse once again rose in the Elder’s throat, her lean body pushing faster toward one of the buildings she could barely see in the tornado of sand that had began to obscure her vision. The muscles in her legs strained and she pushed the thick fabric open, then snapped it closed as the storm howled overhead, breaking with a fury over the Elder’s protected body.
Crystal was gasping for air in the darkened tent and she waited for a few heartbeats to see if it would pass in a few moments. She’d weathered these sandstorms in Anarab many nights before and she knew that it would not pass for a while. Hanging her head in defeat, she wandered into the back corridors of the tent where a dim light seemed to be coming from. What she found next made her eyes fill with tears that danced across her cheeks. Crystal had stumbled into the “COLLECTIVE ODDITIES!!! A CARNIVAL FREAKSHOW!!!” tent unbeknownst to her upon entering it. Glass jars held those that had been fortunate enough to die at birth, twisted children that no mother could have been able to love or feel anything more than revulsion for. Crystal hated to think that, but she knew that things like this shouldn’t happen in nature. Yet, she pressed onward, a feeling of utter sadistic wonder filling her mind. This couldn’t be real… It just couldn’t be real.
A hand pressed to her stomach, pressing it inward in a sense of pain as she gazed at one of the exhibits of conjoined twins that had not completely divided while still in the ovum stage. The child would have had to have been stillborn but that made her ache to the very core as she thought about what could have been yet hadn’t. She pushed on further, clinging to keep her stomach from turning over and vomiting up her lunch. This can’t be real. Nothing should ever have to exist like this. Infants born with one leg, no arms, no legs, just arms… They all stood there in formaldehyde, a dismal show of what some people had been forced to endure before even being introduced to life. Tears continued to trickle down Crystal’s cheeks. Why?… Why. Only one thought could flow through her mind. Why…?
The tanks began to hold far larger humans, some in early childhood and others who had lived to prepubescence. Crystal had nearly seen enough and was about to turn back when she heard a sound, a groan, and whimper, then silence again. She closed her eyes and did what she could do, the only thing she could possibly do. She prayed. God wasn’t an option now but she prayed there was nothing in the back of the tent that had lived a life like this for so very long, who had lived through the death and the thought of washing it all away. Squeezing her eyes shut, Crystal drew closer and closer, to where she thought the sound had come from. A large platform stood off the ground, iron bars surround in the sides and going up at least 10 foot in the air. Her eyes opened as she stood in front of it. The lone light bulb flickered so that she could not yet see anything, it swung with the motions of the dust storm outside, its connection failing as the light bulb swayed drastically with the moving tent. Finally, the light bulb clicked on fully and shed light on the cage and its contents. A growl sounded as soon as the creature inside was aware of her and the Elder could do nothing but skitter back from the cage into a backwards crawl on her back. A sharp scream and a curse sounded from her mouth, her voice lightly veined with terror and surprise. She winced as the ground tore into her hands but she barely felt it while clawing at the thick canvas of the edge of the tent. Through a small hole between stakes holding the tent down, Crystal squirmed out on her belly and felt the hot sandy wind scrape her face. Luckily the storm had died down to a mild rage as she popped out of the heavy tent, right into a maze of people. Dusting her jeans off, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed what had just gone on. It was a possibility. The screaming… The sudden appearance from beneath a tent. Crystal held her in her hand for a long moment and rubbed her temples slowly. It had been a long day and it was only nearing midnight. A deep sigh left her body and she wondered what the night could possibly leave in store for her. She raised her head and straightened her back, craning her neck around for the cotton candy stand. After that work out, she figured her hips could handle a little bit of pure sugar.
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
The carnival was nothing new to him, for he enjoyed greatly the game of chance he played when he stumbled into a large group of people, the smell they had here was positively exquisite, even in the darkest corners with the strongest people, the fear came heavily into his nostrils. Meg was always attracted to things like this, always ready for the challenge that came with blending into a crowd of people even though they stared at his sharp, pointed ears and teeth, some people grinned--others shuddered... some just skittered away. Standing 5'8", he was anything but imposing--he came across, even, as a female, the way his body moved and his lips were painted that hue of black. People brushed past his body, pressing into the leather he donned and some taking a second look at what had seemed so soft before they had hit pure, unadulterated power. After all, that was what he was--power. The sunglasses reflected the colors and the faces that passed by him. Eyes of curious girls tried to see past that shield and he turned his head, breathing a release that was only meant for the broken. He had seen too much these past few nights--his dreams had taken him places he hadn't wished to go... to centuries of fire and a life he would have rather left behind in the dust, a life that he would rather not remember.. a life he now hid away in his pocket in the form of a picture--a drawing he had picked up from the dirt as he had chased something that had been running after someone else... something that strangely resembled his lover... someone he had cried for, but should have been long dead--and not in a way that would have lead to this plain. The tents loomed up at him as he passed through the crowds with a look of disgust on his face, the fading sunlight on the horizon throwing paint across a blackening canvas, and for the briefest of moments, he watched the paint run away.
It was complete order above chaos, and Meg cursed at the sky beneath his breath as he leaned himself up against the sturdy fencepost that surrounded a zoo of odd creatures and small children. The lighter flared up against his reflective glasses and lit the cigarette he lifted to his mouth with steady, clawed fingers. He inhaled poison and allowed it to drain out of him with a sigh as he held the butt end of the deathstick between his teeth. His head tilted back, his eyes staring up at the night sky with stars that flickered only barely through the haze of smoke and light coming from the torches and fires. Shall I search high and low for a dream--a nightmare? What would you have me do, and when I found you--if I found you--would you remember my face...? Deep down, he knew the answer. Even through this mess of chaos with the world so set in recovery that the Goddess of Hell could do no more damage, Meg knew the answer to his question. He turned his body around to lean over the fence and close his eyes behind those shades, the haphazard azure of his curls falling forward where they were too short to reach back into the tight ponytail at the nape of his neck. He folded his fingers together, one by one, the claws digging into the back of his hand as he rested his forehead upon them. Dreams... I would be a fool if I were so ensnared by one person to follow such a faulty thing... why do I know you're here, my love? Reverie melted away with the tug of grubby fingers on the thick, black cuff of his jacket and a fat, round little toddler stared up at him with big eyes and a lollipop. Meg was so busy being infatuated with the idea of snarling at the boy and seeing him run pissing his pants that he almost--and we say almost because he did, in fact, catch her--didn't notice the young girl trying to sneak what she thought was his wallet out of his back pocket.
If he had found any heart in him to spare the children the torment of a wet stain on their shorts, the panic at the thought of losing the picture in his back pocket dispelled it without question. Meg's hand swung back and grasped the little wrist of the girl with a blue, frilled dress on and stared over his shoulder for the briefest of moments as he soaked in the terror she felt at being caught--she would surely be turned in to the officers of the carnival and be kicked out... or worse, the man would tell her parents. That was what she thought...
Meg's grip began to tighten until the blood could no longer circulate to the child's hand, and she cried, but it was soft and the sobs were more for the trouble she was about to get into than the pain. His body turned around and he sat down on his haunches, facing her, knowing that the moment he turned the boy behind him would bolt.. and that was exactly what he did, or tried to do. Meg's hand was quick to grab the back of his shorts and pull his fat little ass past into the fencing, plugging him there in the most uncomfortable position and pulling until he was thoroughly stuck, sandwhiched between the two poles with his ass on one side and his feet, shoulders, and head on the other. He would have screamed, if he could have found the room to catch a full breath. Unfortunately, the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of him in the encounter, and he was going nowhere. Meg grinned a grin that would have frightened an older woman, but the girl was too preoccupied with more trivial things until he spoke in a hissing voice, "If you don't stop crying, you'll wake up dead in a trash can tomorrow morning--and you won't be in this place anymore... no more mommy, no more daddy, no more fat-assed little friends to help you steal money to buy your fuckin' candy, do you understand?" The immediate hush that went over the young girl was impressive. Usually, children weren't smart enough to be scared into shutting up--they just screamed louder. It was the first step to him deciding that he would not, indeed, hurt the little brat--but her friend was something else. The little bastard had almost abandoned her to her fate, and being a boy, he'd need to learn that it was the incorrect decision to make. Meg's pale face leaned in really close, and he smiled a smile that showed his teeth.. He knew the young girl wasn't breathing, and he just growled. He could feel her tense, force herself to choke down the scream. His claws ran up one of her arms and caressed her neck and, from afar, it almost looked like he was a child-molester. Good thing few people paid attention to the petting zoo. On the other hand, Meg did feel the presence of eyes on him--scared eyes. Someone was watching, at least, probably the person who ran the petting zoo. He would have done himself the favor of scaring more than one person, but it was just the little bitch that needed straightening up... after all, she'd run into someone not-so-nice next time..
"... Run." He hissed through his teeth and snapped his jaws shut in front of her, causing her to jump visibly. When he let her go, she hesitated. She was more a man than the little boy was, but when he began to step forward again, she bolted. Meg smiled with satisfaction as he began to turn around--all he wanted to do was talk to the little idiot kid and give him a swift boot in the ass.. he didn't want to play any more mind games or scare him in any way other than straightforward, but the chance was thoroughly interrupted by a pan to his forehead. If he had been any other man, he would have been down for the count--if he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have had the conscious thought to reach up as the pan came down for him again and stop it's descent... if he had been any other man, he would have thought about his next move before he picked the smaller girl up by the wrist and jumped onto the fencepost like some ethereal acrobat.
She kicked, her black hair flailing as she tried her damnedest to catch him with her heels which were quickly falling off as she swung toward him. Meg just held her there, and it drew a lot more attention. He'd get no chance to boot the little asshole now, he was on the verge of being helped free by some good samaritans which were running from the goddamn moving crowd. "Ma'am, if you would calm the hell down, maybe I can tell you what happened...." It was no use, the girl just wasn't listening. She was screaming for help and flailing wildly... he decided he'd drop her, and that was just what he did. She fell to the floor with a thud and growled angrily before trying to right herself even though a bruise would be forming on the rump of her ass. "The little brats were trying to steal from me, I had to teach 'em a lesson somehow..." But the samaritans had disbanded and everything had gotten really quiet, he realized. He looked up and growled angrily at himself for not noticing earlier.. the girl was trying to get the young boy out from between the fence crossbars and failing miserably as the sand-storm approached. "Goddamn it!" He reached down and grabbed the little kid's rear-end and shoved him through like a well-lubed cork. He was sobbing from head to toe, and the girl was trying to haul his rolie-polie ass into shelter, but he wasn't moving and she was only 5'0" and the smallest thing he had ever seen. His arm wrapped around her waist and, as she was hitting him, lifted her up... moments later, all three of them were stuck inside the stables where the animals had all retreated to, knowing well-enough what the weather had found in store... he dropped the two to the hay-covered ground and tried to put as much distance between him and the lady as possible, but it seemed like it would be a task meant for a god, because she was following...
"How dare you do that?! What the hell is your problem?!" She cursed and picked up the nearest bucket only partially filled with water and tossed it at his retreating figure. Had Meg not foreseen it, he would have been hit by the bucket--as it were, he was lucky, the water glanced his coat and the water-proof shield spared the shiny leather from the attack, but it annoyed him even so.
"If you throw one more thing at me, I swear to god, I will tear your clothing to pieces and hang you from a flagpole. I won't threaten to kill your ass, because you aren't worth the time or the effort and I don't want you following me around anymore, but I swear to whatever God you serve, I will humiliate you. Put some distance between us, or I'll hurdle your fat little friend outside and leave him to fend for himself like he would have done to his girlfriend."
She shut up. The storm moved past and he spent his time with the peace and the quiet.
When he stepped out, it was through the back door, and it lead quite simply out into the redispersing crowd. Each head moved past with the same monotonous glance as the last, and Meg thought the day would be over for him. The rave would start as the clock struck midnight, and that wasn’t too long, but he had no reason to go, no catch to follow, no thought as to a reason he might wish to stay. Then, his sheltered eyes caught sight of red hair as it was picked up by the passing air in Anarab’s night breeze. There she stood beside a vender as he sold the sweet treats that carnivals were so well-known for, exchanging money with the grimy man that held out the puffy sugar-snack to her outstretched hand. What made her stand out? Was it the pale color of her skin, the deep hue of her eyes, the fiery red of her hair? No, she stood out because Meg had seen her before, from a distance. She stood out because Meg knew her better than anyone else on this god-forsaken little lifeboat of a dimension. She stood out... because she had answers. Meg’s firm, black lips cocked in a smile that could only be called arrogant. The hair at the nape of his neck lifted away and he pulled at a curl that fell into his face as the people passed between him and the one woman he had never thought to meet. She was so close that Meg could smell her perfume even through the gross scent of people passing around him and between their bodies. So, life really is ironic... His eyes wandered to the clock, searching for the hand that would tell him how close the dance was. If she did not attend, then at least the streets would lose their loud, rambunctious crowd as they filtered under the shelter of the large hall the town used to hold its finest attractions and largest amounts of guests. His eyes found the large clock as it hung above the crowds of people, his eyes locking on the hands that read eleven forty-five. It wouldn't be a long wait, then, and therefore, he wouldn't have to follow her for as long as more time would have demanded. His shoulder took the beating of yet another person who could not navigate themselves around his small form, and had he not been so taken with the alluring form of a ghost in front of him--a woman he should never have met and should never have seen but in his dreams--he would have growled at the man who told him to stop holding up the fucking traffic. As Crystal moved, so did his eyes, the moonlight glinting off his pale blue hair as the starlight danced in and out of view.
"So we meet," he whispered, his effeminate voice touching the air for the first time of the night in an unthreatening way. Awe-inspired, he watched the redhead from afar as she bobbed in and out of vision, sure to keep inside the crowd though his anti-social sense of claustrophobia bid him do otherwise. Some hint of determination kept him walking and brushing shoulders, even muttering soft 'excuse' and 'pardon me's as he shimmied through the crowd that made their way toward the appropriate attractions of their choice. His tight black leather pants slid against bare legs and girls hovered too long at his sense of domination, some trying and failing to strike up conversation in his unnatural urgency.
Re: Merriment
Pink or blue? Does it matter? I think they all taste the same. Mmm… She waited in line, shifting her weight from leg to leg and watched the vendor prepare the spun sugar mess that she so loved. A tall man tried to push in front of her in line and Crystal let out a low growl of annoyance, then daintily pushed back in front of him, her back pressed flush against the front of his body. She felt the man’s smile and knew without looking that he was feeling a bit cocky, probably intoxicated. Hand started to slide toward her hips and instinctively, an elbow caught the offender in the gut, knocking the air out of him. Immediately, apologies began to flow from her lips, followed by hand motions and apologizing eyes. Crystal then turned back around in line and placed her order, rolling her eyes at the incident and exiting as quickly as she could. The cotton candy was overpriced but she could have cared less, the taste was something she’d wanted for months now. Had she not enforced self control, her eyes would have rolled back into her head with pleasure after putting the first bite of the spun candy into her mouth. As all cotton candy, it melted instantly and left her wanting more, and more.. until finally the sweetness had a sickening effect on her. It happened every time, she desired it so very much and each mouthful was ecstasy until it overpowered her taste buds and made her mouth stop producing saliva. A cough made her shudder and her eyes quickly started scanning for a booth that had drinks in it. A trash can received her half eaten cotton candy with a thunking noise and a swam of insects. Crystal looked slightly alarmed at the growing sensation in her mouth then scanned the food booths for cold drinks. Quick steps brought her to the empty booth and she placed her order through overly dry lips. Forking over more money, she bought a huge Styrofoam cup of a local carbonated beverage and slowly sipped through the straw, relief flowing down her throat. Her eyes caught sight of a particularly alluring man with a unique color hair but overlooked him, dismissing him as she had all of the other people here tonight. It hadn’t yet occurred to her that she was being watched, her behavior and actions analyzed in an almost scientific manner and she didn’t think to check behind her before continuing to walk. Kids and their hair dye these days…
The Elder’s long legs drew her back into the carnival and she pushed softly through the crowds again, holding her drink over her head to avoid having it crushed against her body. A large group of the people surrounded a small stage and curiosity got the better of Crystal and she drew near as well. A smile filled her eyes as she watched a small woman approach the microphone and had she not been holding an ice filled cup, she would have clapped for her as the entire crowd did before going silent to hear the woman’s soft voice that could barely be made out above the sounds of the night. Big blue eyes looked out at the audience from behind deep black hair that covered most of the singer’s face. Crystal frowned and imagined the poor girl had stage fright and cringed as the sound stopped completely and the woman turned from the mic, walking gracefully backwards. The lights from the stage went completely black as she did, surrounding her in darkness until an explosion of light lit up the crowd and the stage and the woman’s voice poured out fully, loud and perfectly tuned. Remorse, love, sensuality… They all oozed from the band and its glorious singer leaving Crystal immediately transfixed on the show. The single acoustic guitar also became several men with electric guitars and an entire set of drums came back with the lights. The Elder’s eyes lit up like they had at the first rock shows she’d been to as a teenager and before too long, she found her body tangling with the music in slow waves. The cup in her hand hit the ground in an explosion of just ice now, she’d finished the drink but she barely noticed it drifting from her hand. The rest of the audience was rocking with the music as well and she became as entranced as they were, her hips moving instinctively, her eyes closed tightly, just flowing along with the music until it stopped, leaving her wanting more. A smile was still left on her face as the singer laughed and thanked the crowd for being so generous with their applause, as well as announced things about that just being an advertisement for what their band would be playing at some dance later on that night. But, Crystal had found what she’d desired in this part of the carnival and didn’t listen to the small bit of propaganda the woman spouted. The show had mixed the present with the past and she enjoyed that quality, then peeled herself away from the smothering crowd around her. Frowning at her hands, suddenly her mind questioned silently : Where exactly did I put my drink? She shook her head and laughed softly, then shoved her hands into her jeans pockets and searched for a clock. The sun would rise eventually, that she knew, but the night was still young and she wasn’t yet tired.
Children that might have hung around the carousel had dispersed after the dust storm, probably drug away but overprotective parents with more concern that intelligence. The carousel, however, was still open and operational. Most of the crowds passed it by but Crystal decided to indulge in a childish fantasy and a small session of remembering what childhood was like. She shot a smile at the carny and brushed a few strands of loose hair out of her eyes as she tromped ungracefully through the dirt to the carousel. She slid her hand up one gold metal pole for a grip as her long legs lifted her onto the ride. The horses were magnificently detailed and looked as if they could breathe. Before the operator of the ride started it up, the Elder examined the craftsmanship carefully, running long pale fingers and gentle hands across the clay horses. These animals had always spooked her when she encountered them in stables and pulling carriages. Their sheer size had always made her feel as if they would crush her without thinking about it, almost unintentionally if she didn’t watch where she put herself. Now as she looked at the life-size replicas, she was almost in awe of their creator. She’d never been able to sculpt, not even in high school art classes that she had taken. She never felt envy for anyone who could do something better than she could, but more of a sense of respect that struck her deeply. Finally placing herself in a carriage crafted to look as if it was being pulled by two black stallions with raging, wild eyes, Crystal leaned her head against the back of the chair. A few more people entered the carousel and she could hear the sound of soft talking from the couple behind her as the husband hefted his wife onto a horse and made joking comments about her weight gain. Crystal laughed, herself, as she heard a resounding “SMACK!” and a quiet “ow.” from the couple.
The ride began to move bulkily with the sound of clear, sweet, tinkling music and Crystal felt her stomach move with it at first. She laughed at the childish choice of a ride she’d made and sighed happily as the ride created a slight breeze and brushed her hair off her face for a moment. The air in Anarab had become sticky and warm after the storm had blown through and the Elder felt herself becoming uncomfortable along with it. She unzipped her hoodie and peeled it off of her arms, then set it on the seat beside her. The woman leaned her face against the edge of her claimed seat and watched the carnival swirl around her. Small groups of friend watched the carousel and commented on the horses, and though she could barely make out their faces, she watched them as well. Placed away from the crowd, Crystal thought she saw a face she recognized from earlier and she leaned forward to catch another glimpse. The boy, well, man rather with the oddly colored hair stood there, but then was replaced by a hundred other faces as the calliope spun around again. His appearance was dark, most of him covered by black leather and dark shades that interested her and still sparked a hint of worry. She leaned up on her knees to get a better look but she could not locate where she had seen the man before. The ride stopped and she dismissed the thought once again. What had seemed like an eternity had only lasted around fifteen minutes between the coke, the singer, and the carousel. Midnight was looming close and the crowds began to thicken around her, pouring out of the carnival toward what Crystal had not heard in the minor announcement during the makeshift concert. She had no choice but to move with the crowds of people, but soon made an exit and began to backtrack through the now almost desolate carnival.
Eyes crawled on her like tiny fingers, lifting her hair from her face and brushing it away, all the while looking into her soul and killing her spirit. Crystal could feel them, brushing against the plains and hills of her body, mocking her gently as the continued to study her. The woman didn’t turn and look for the source of the stare as instinct told her to, but merely looked from side to side with her eyes, not letting her head move as she straightened her back and lifted her head slightly. From looking at her, anyone would be able to tell that she was visibly tensing herself against her will. Though she tried hard to maintain her composure, it was a fleeting feeling. The control of the situation had shifted, rendering her helpless and shivering beneath the surface. Fight.. Flee.. Surrender. The three choices were always there, looming at the back of her mind. She could fight, which meant facing whatever was there. The Elder was not physically strong but she knew she could hold her own and would hold her own if forced to. She could flee, but then again running never solved anything when it came down to it. Chances were whatever eyes were on her had legs that could run faster than hers. Surrender... The choice was mildly invigorating, though it held its own amount of fear. To some it always seemed like the final choice when all others had been exhausted, but it would be so much easier to merely bow her head and be defeated. Crystal was overreacting. Her encounters as of late had been nothing less of terrifying and now, any hint of attention or pressure shot her back into the same state she had been in while in the Cavern. The Elder let out a shuddering breath and grasped the edge of a wooden counter of a game that had been shut down for the night. Her long fingernails bit into the wood and left small indentations, making her wince and pull her hands away. It was time to go home and nothing would stop her. She couldn’t do this every day, she couldn’t live with the fear consuming her. She couldn’t even function in this broken society. She felt like she didn’t belong anywhere.
Crystal stood up straight and glanced toward the exit of the carnival. There was only one person in her direct line of sight but she couldn’t make out the features yet. She walked quickly, letting her long legs set a pace they liked and made her way to the exit promptly. The hair on the back of her neck rose immediately as she made out the features of the man with the hair that nearly matched her own eyes. He was the only thing left between her and an exit. She flashed him a weak smile but her eyes betrayed her and made her look untrusting of the male, as she was with almost all men in her life. It didn’t matter now, as she focused on making it to the exit and to her shabby, rented apartment where she’d wash away the grit she’d gained during the night and hopefully find a bit of peace from the overly cautious state she had been thrown into. Her nails scoured her skin accidentally as she pulled more of the annoying fly away hairs from her eyes until she heard a sickening crack that made her lurch forward. Even though she was mere feet from the man, the entire scene around her faded away as she glanced at her boots. “It fucking figures.” She murmured softly, gruffly and automatically yanked the leg of her tight jeans up, then unzipped the boot that reached her calf and threw it on the ground. The heel of it had completely splintered off, leaving the pair of shoes useless. Cursing under her breath, she pulled the other off and slammed it on the ground as well, taking a few inches off her height as she did so. With angry, flashing eyes she approached a nearby trash can and flung the shoes into it, looking down at them and wondering what to do next. Her bare feet felt the warm sand of the carnival grounds scrape across them and she glanced down at the ruined shoes. Talking to herself, she muttered again “Yes, it absolutely fucking figures.”
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: Merriment
Meg watched as his prey picked up on the most juvenile of plays, choosing cotton candy and a soda before she moved into a thickening crowd around a stage that stood in the center of the grand amusement park, a small voice like an angel's lifting up and over the crowd, though he did not trust the simple voice. Meg's eyes stayed on the back of auburn hair with an attention that could only be considered lustful, though not at all for the woman's body. His eyes turned away for that brief moment as the crowds shuddered by him. A drunk's hand--the same he had seen almost harassing the young lady before--flopped against him as he walked past and drunken curses rose softly from his lips before his dank breath moved across Meg's neck and into his ear. The voice was drugged down with the weight of alcohol, slowed to a dull slur that made the already repulsive human seem like he lacked the ability to speak his given language correctly. "Helloo beeautiful," Men and women began to thin, leading their children and their lovers around the pair that stood so audaciously in the center of the crowd, looking for all the world to see like one was whispering sweet nothing's into the other's ear. The whispers that they thought he couldn't hear were the ones Meg favored the most, listening not to the drunk that was slurring things into his neck like he might drool on him and pass out, but to the passing comments as they hissed "Faggots" and went along their way. "I thunnk you'n I zhould... you know...get a drunk and.... go home." It was so pathetic, it elicited a smile on those ebony lips that was almost amused, but more annoyed than anything. The drunk was trying his best to sweet-talk while not being able to consider the words he was saying, but Meg had a high tolerance tonight, because his thoughts were elsewhere... that was why nothing was broken as the man reached up to grasp where Meg's breasts might have been, only to be caught before it reached there.
Meg leaned over and, with a hissing, force-induced depth to his voice to make it more manly, answered, "I'm a guy, dumbshit..." Nothing straightened someone out so quickly, but the drunk didn't get embarassed as much as he got mad. The music rose up in a tempo and the drums hit right on the correct beat to cover completely the angry "Fag! Whadda fuck d'you think you was doin', lookin' likes you wuz a gal..?!" Before a large, meaty fist swung for the side of Meg's head, and he merely ducked the oncoming punch and moved away into the crowd. He wouldn't kill the dull ass today--it wasn't worth the publicity he'd get when people found the body in an alleyway cut up into pieces and torn apart, because Meg knew what happened when he saw blood. It was no longer a matter of control, and he disliked not being under control. It always caused him trouble. The angry drunk growled and called after him a few times, but the rising voice of the ebony-haired singer rose into the air and covetted his ears for that moment in time, and she, too, drew his eyes... If Meg had thought he could love someone new, perhaps it would be a girl that looked like her. With her small, lithe body and her talent spilling over her while she sang. The thought, though, drifted, and his eyes found the swaying form of his lure again. Crystal stood out from the crowd with a renewed vengeance, her bright auburn strands dancing in the night breeze as her body swayed to the tune that drifted in Anarab that night. While he watched, the layer of bemused detachment he had felt chipped away. The people moved in and out of his way like shadows, and everything drifted away but one dancing female. Her feet planted on the ground rose and stepped back down gracefully every few beats, her hips gyrated and her hair moved round her face. Fingers let slip the styrofoam cup, ice spilling all over her boots as she danced, the shaking sound of spilling ice reminding him of shattered glass. It reminded him of hoam, where he himself had danced like that, without thought of who might be watching, as the music drifted from the speakers and a host of angels came through on the silent sound....
Estuans interius, ira vehementi... Sors immanis, Et inanis... Veni, veni, venias, Ne me mori facias.... The host had sung and his lover had merely watched from beneath the bedspread, green eyes soft and a smile on those lips that Meg had kissed so many times. Would it ever be that way again...? The fantasy broke as the music faded away, words without meaning pouring as propoganda from her mouth, and the spell faded away along with his venus, the auburn vixen moving away from the crowded lot of people as he moved after. Tired eyes moved over the bodies as she swayed through the crowd like a liquid that could not be contained, and Meg became less and less cautious of where he watched from, more and more thoughtless as he observed her. The crowd slipped around him again as he stepped from it, but it was only brief before the traffic picked back up and swayed around him as he observed through reflective shades the woman boarding the carousel. In his mind, he had seen her a lot like this--surrounded by something beautiful, the clay horses decorated with vivid colors that stood out on their reins and saddles, the beasts almost alive beside her as she ran her fingers over each one, like she might have some magic touch to bring it to life and stop the world for a brief fantastic moment while she spoke to it, found conversation beneath the ceramics and clay. When she slipped into the carriage and the operator began the ride, she looked like a princess, her carriage carrying her away to a fanciful kingdom where her Prince Charming would be--but it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was, not for anyone, and he knew she was no exception, despite the smile she wore and the way she carried her burdens with her back straight... the easiest paths in life were the ones that hurt others, so hers must have been some awful hard path.
The black lipstick that made his face stand out chalk white against the darker choice of his clothing disappeared as he pressed his lips together into a line that would conceal it. Auburn hair tossed as blue eyes connected with his body, and he knew she realized he was watching her now. There was no use in hiding, though he would keep his distance until the crowds let up. If she screamed, he wanted to have the chance to escape. He didn't want the blood of a dozen carnival hands on his conscience... not tonight. Tonight was for learning, for remembering, for new friends, and new enemies. The curls of his blue hair not pinned down with the thong at the nape of his neck lifted up into his face and to the side as the wind fluttered by. People muttered for him to move, they cussed, everyone was tired and the clock struck midnight just moments after his vixen's feet touched the ground. Meg's eyes followed, but his body weaved toward the exit: the only way to get out... because he knew he had frightened her, quite possibly into attempting to leave immediately, and he didn't want to follow her back to her apartment--that would make it much harder to have a simple relationship... the kind where she didn't scream and he explained himself? Or something. Either way, it was better off for the both of them if he didn't have to stalk her home, because he would; he wouldn't be giving up any time tonight, not while the woman in his dreams stood right there in front of him, not when he knew she had the information he sought...
She transgressed the sandy, emptying carnival with a sure amount of grace, and a single-minded determination not to look back over her shoulder at him. He could tell--she probably didn't even want to think he was actually there, but she'd notice him, because he had guessed correctly. She was making her way for the safe-haven of home, and she thought that nobody would be in her way. He leaned against the posts of the fence that marked the entryway into the giant attraction, his eyes watching her from behind the glass that sheltered their color from view. The torchlight danced off the leather he wore, the only light besides the moon that cast some semblance of illumination across the two figures, alone in the dark but for the rising wind and soon, the sound of classical music as it rose into its first crescendo at the dance. What a mood... She began to step by, and he had every intention of stopping her with a word, but he didn't have to. The splintering sound of her heel shattering left her staggering and cussing, her hands reaching down to remove the boots she wore as he watched. His own boots, partially undone for the easy removal, slipped off his feet as she tracked toward him for access to the nearby trash can. He hid his grin behind a clawed hand, his other crossed over his chest and resting in the crevice on the inside of his elbow. Before she had finished throwing hers away, Meg had discreetly removed the half-laced boots that rose up to his thigh, his small-for-a-man's feet matching up roughly with her own, though she would probably be a little beaten by his length, it would not be uncomfortable... or so he determined by sight alone.
"You can have mine." They were simple words, and he didn't clarify, merely let the boots sitting in front of his body speak for him as he reached into his front pocket and tapped a cigarette out of the package he withdrew, placing the butt between his lips before slipping the pack back into his pocket. He merely rolled the stick between his teeth as he looked at her, not lighting it for fear of offending, not taking it out for fear of looking indecisive.
Re: Merriment
Crystal almost tumbled over into the trash can at the shock of hearing another person’s voice. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and her hair had fallen down during the stomping around like a little girl having a temper tantrum. She turned from the can, her eyes wide with embarrassment and shame, as well as a lingering bit of fear laced in them still. She couldn’t tell now if he was watching her or glancing at the ground and she searched the area to see if he’d been speaking to her. Of course he had, though… it was obvious from the boots that he so graciously offered her. The darkness danced across them both, pale slivers of light across her and the light from the torch across him. Her eyes were vulnerable now as she turned from the can and walked to stand a few feet away from him. The waves from the clip that had held her hair up made indentions in the waves that now fell across the Elder’s face and over her eyes, making her appear young and stripped of everything that had once made her an adult. The expensive shoes, the updone hair, the loss of the semblance of grace and perfect posture had left her a bit broken, robbed, and innocent, though everyone knew she was nothing near that.
She imagined she looked stupid, standing there wordlessly and staring at the boots on the ground, as well as the man who had offered them. Crystal opened her mouth to speak and felt the words rushing from her mouth, though she hadn’t thought before speaking. “As lovely as they are.. I simply don’t think they’d go well with my outfit. Plus, I don’t have far to walk to make it home.” The silence after she spoke was awkward and she glanced down at her feet against the dark sand. She didn’t want to be rude to this man, though she couldn’t see him well. It seemed that she was breaking all of the rules all of the ‘self-defense for women’ classes that could be recorded. Talking to a dark stranger whose eyes she couldn’t see didn’t seem to be so very safe when it came down to it. However, the simplicity in his voice had shot down her instinctual defenses and after all, she’d faced down one of the most dangerous creatures she could remember encountering. “I— I’m Crystal.” She volunteered quickly and raised her head from the bowed position. Her eyes were now studying him as he had studied her before.
The leather was sensual, she had to admit, and far from the style of most of the kids she’d seen tonight in the carnival. She couldn’t see much of his eyes, well, any of his eyes to be certain. The hair was something unique, unusual, and yet somehow acceptable in this place. She’d seen much stranger. He was thin, petite even, but she knew even someone small could hide a silent, wiry strength. His jacket --.. Her train of thought ended there as she grabbed her arms suddenly and groaned. Her hoodie. It hadn’t been expensive, or tasteful, but it had been a comforting piece of clothing. It was as if she could see it there, resting in the carriage where she’d so stupidly left it in the darkness of the early closed carnival. Perhaps she would track back through the carnival and seek her light jacket.
A soft, pale hand rubbed the back of her neck as she stood before him, the loose material of her shirt pressing back against her body in the gentle night breeze. A question lingered in her mind that she could not let go unanswered. “I’ve seen you several times tonight. Now, I’ve seen many years and I know that coincidences are imaginary. There were hundreds of people in this carnival tonight and I can’t remember seeing any face other than yours twice. Why?” Her voice was quiet, questioning, though not demanding an answer from him. It was as if she was speaking to herself while looking to him for the answers. A thoughtless, slow movement awakened her feet as she walked toward the man who was still rolling the butt of a cigarette between his ebony lips. She could see eye to eye with him without straining to look up and now, she was standing mere inches from him, though not touching him. The scene was set, and the two figures appeared as if they were about to embrace or start a gentle waltz, but nothing moved, not even the air around them. Her fingers slipped up and took the cigarette from his lips, sliding it out slowly. Crystal’s eyes were gentle as she studied him up close, still not certain why she hadn’t just walked away. “These things are just a faster highway to death. We’ve faced that once already and I don’t suppose you want it to happen again… or do you?”
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: Merriment
Crystal, though she introduced herself, he had already known her name. For weeks, even years, he had known it, and had he not thought it would frighten her away, he would have told her so. The red-haired woman stood before him, looking merely a child, and in her face Meg saw something he hadn't forgotten, And this is how you live, is it? Haunting others with those eyes? Meg could understand now; he saw what had made her so attractive, what had drawn that part of him that used to be his better half to allow her to breathe and come home again, and had he shuddered visibly at the thought, it merely came off as a movement beneath his jacket as he repositioned himself with his feet against the cool sand, his shoulder pressing up against the tall post as it rose above him to hold the banner to the carnival, those black lips were curled up at the ends in a smirk, a smile that portrayed little warmth and more of a dark hint of masochistic amusement in the torture he was putting himself through. His lithe body was close to hers, and he could have reached out, grabbed her, threw her on the ground.. he could have done anything, but there was no reason, and the thought of hurting her didn't make him feel any better about the jealousy he felt. There were eyes that could see you when they couldn't see me... His fingers reached out, but fell short of touching her, for fear that the touch would bring more thoughts, more ideas. He couldn't handle it right now, the coming pain that would bare some breaking point inside it. What could he do, with the woman who could do what he could not sitting right before him. The eldest of this plain, the first woman to set foot here, and she was gorgeous in a way that was completely lacking taint, beautiful in a way that hugged onto innocence and swore not to let go.... that was what made her so attractive; this ethereal beauty that should not, could not, exist in a real world, no matter where it was or how far from home it could be. Yet, there she stood. She was there.
Nobody before had taken a cigarette from his lips--the touch was too close to those teeth. She had no doubt noticed them, hadn't she? Or had she been so busy staring at his feet and trying to see past his shades that she had missed the sharp canines altogether... But this woman had seen so much more frightening than he, and Meg was well aware of it, for he had seen much more frightening, and he could see past her eyes and into her head, where nightmares were lurking much like his. The questions she had asked danced, sparking in the air between them without answer. For a long time, he didn't know if he could answer, if he could stand here and speak without just walking away. Meg was good at running away from his problems while creating problems for others, and a lifetime ago, he had taken great pride in it. Until he had woke here, in this place, alone. This time, as the wind lifted his hair across his face, he held out his hand to her, palm up, as the music drifted overhead. "Shall we dance?" His eyes focused on hers behind the layer of glass between them. He felt alone, broken by indecision and the need to know, needing to ask but in return having to tell. He had felt alone since he got to this place, and now, though the world was breaking apart around him, he would fight to make himself known and get what he wanted. Thunder rolled ahead, threatening rain, but he seemed ill-concerned with it, the clouds were overtaking the night skies at a pace that was almost unnatural, but the thought didn't seem to concern the man in the least.
Tight leather clung to his body, his feet were bare, his hands were slender and soft, effeminate, but the nails were sharp and strong, made for more than itching, but even so, he seemed harmless. At this point, he even came across as vulnerable. In the night lights, the torchlight flickered over his face and gave him golden hues. His answers hung in the back of his throat, but never touched the air before his black-painted lips.
Re: Merriment
The questions voiced were heard, understood, yet remained unanswered, lingering in the air only to be swept away by the wind from the building storm. Another question still was asked, though not from her own lips, but those of the man she had encountered. Her hesitation was evident and painfully obvious. The claws were there, as well as the pointed teeth, but the most dangerous thing about the figure before her was his ability to melt away her reasons to fear him. The smile he gave made her question his intentions, but not enough to stop the dance that was beginning between the two of them even now before their hands had clasped. Had she wondered farther into why he was here and why he was watching her, she might have possibly remembered the fact that many animals make themselves appear harmless before striking at their prey. However, she didn’t. The need to trust again and the need to see the good in the world left her to do just that; She trusted him.
Faith was the only thing she had left to hold on to. Not faith in a god or in a religion, but faith in people. Anarab wasn’t famous for its smiling faces and good Samaritans, but the Elder felt as if she could at least put faith into a few. She wasn’t showing him into her home, she was merely indulging him in a dance that he requested. Perhaps he just really liked to dance? She didn’t know and it didn’t matter why, it wasn’t like he had any idea who she really was anyway. This night was almost an escape from the responsibilities of her daily life for her. She didn’t have to be Crystal Dinaia of the Elder Council, nor did she have to be reputable or graceful, or even sensible. What the hell, she questioned silently and relented, surrendered and flowed into the music of the night. Her senses were disarmed now and though she should have still watched for all around her, she feared nothing. Confidence and power returned to her for the first time in so very long, something she had been robbed of when she’d come across another creature with less than ideal morals. Yet, she had lived through that and she would continue to live on no matter how she had to fight to keep her footing.
Crystal’s hand extended and she stepped half of a breath closer to him, still not touching his lean body. For a moment, she thought that she might have scared him more than he unnerved her. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation A tremor had passed through his body earlier, she was almost certain of it. Mistakenly, she might have assumed she had control of the situation when realistically she had no idea of what was going on. Perhaps to him, she was just another girl in the crowd to talk to, to seduce, and he would never know the difference. Vulnerability had replaced what she felt was his sense of domination, his stance was weakened slightly and she, herself, felt goose bumps rise on her arms. Something wasn’t quite right about the happenings now, but she had not yet felt something utterly wrong coming on. Her eyes locked with where she assumed his were and the invitation was accepted, but only if he was the first to take her hand. It lingered there in the darkness, the torchlight flickering off of it, the only light left now that the rolling thunder clouds had blocked out the light of the moon. Her skin was soft, almost glowing in the darkness because of its pale color, not unlike moonlight itself. The words were equally as simple as his had been, yet a deeper question loomed behind them still, pointedly asked by her eyes. “Yes, shall we?”
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: Merriment
Meg was neither flustered nor upset by her need to be on top. If she wished to ride the bucking bronco and that was where she felt most at home, then he would not deny her that seat. He took her hand in his, the touch soft as his fingers wrapped themselves around her palm, the pressure of his touch only enough to allow her to know he was there. Meg closed the distance between her and himself with a step, placing his hand on her hip as was traditional. He didn't allow her to remedy the fact that their proximity was anything but decent before moving her into the first steps of their slow dance. Her chest was pressed to his, and his nose was only centimeters above hers, almost touching. He could feel each shuddering breath she took by both the soft air that rushed past his lips and her chest as it expanded to allow air into her lungs, then released it all again. Her breath tasted of cotton candy and soda, not unpleasant as it rushed against his face in soft, uneasy breaths. His tasted of mint, as if he had spent the past hour gurgling mouthwash in preparation for this one moment as they spun across the sand, "You were correct in assuming that it was no coicidence you saw me tonight. I was guilty of tracking you..." Track was a word used by hunters as they looked for food, or by worried community members as they searched for a run away or a criminal. The chosen interpretation was up to the ears and the mind, but Meg's lips had certainly chosen a lethal word. His hand drew hers above her head and instigated her into a soft twirl as the beat of the music changed inside. When he drew her back, the proximity became almost smothering as his sense of urgency increased. His hand no longer rested on her hip, but on the small of her back, easily cutting off escape without the direct presence of danger. She had wandered too far into the pit now--there was no going back from whence she came.
He took the liberties she did not have in observing those crystal-blue eyes, staring into them and observing what he had only felt by gut instinct alone. This young girl trusted him, if only by a hair. He was different, then, and worked differently, harmlessness came more willingly to a man without eyes. "Red hair is hard to miss amongst a sea of ebony and blonde--you stand out, Crystal." Step, two, three, step, two, three, even as he spoke, he never missed a step, as if the dance came naturally to him... but there was something odd in the way he moved, as if he was waiting for a lead--as if he had been more used to stepping the female's part in the song, not meant to lead, but to be lead in the steps he had so well memorized. "I know you... better than any one person probably should, Crystal Dinaia of the Elder Council." It was only then that the steps began to slow to a stop with the music as it drifted away on the wind, closing them in silence for the moment to echo the severity of the situation. They stood eye to eye, with only a pair of shades seperating their gaze, and nose to nose. There was no break from the way he held her, no relief in the intensity of his attentions... "I wonder what it was like..." His voice trailed off on a hard note, as something in the back of his mind sent the jealousy back into place. He leaned forward, not giving her much of a choice in matters as his fingers let go of hers to entangle themselves in her hair, holding her still so that she could not turn away as his dark lips pressed against her own, looking for something there that he obviously was intent on finding. His tongue was urgent, seeking, and the kiss was anything but loving. It was demand. His tongue pressed to her lips, and if she sought to fight the intruder, his fingers tightened their grasp in her hair to emphasize is severity. Though she was not touched, his free hand did not roam downward to make the kiss any more humiliating than it was at present, he would not take no for an answer as far as the bonding at their mouths was concerned.
His tongue forced its way past, touching hers and running across the back of her teeth and roof of her mouth. His body was hard, and his breath--it was as if he held it for something, His lipstick did not rub off, whether his eyes were closed or not was a mystery behind those shades, but what was not a mystery was the way he held her, as if clinging to something his life depended on. So this was what it was like, my love? One kiss, and it was not just my own nightmare. The taste of you is still on her... Jealousy wracked him, but it was hidden in the force. Nothing became more painful than it already was, and very little caused anything more than a sting--the worst touch he had on her was holding her in place by her hair, but the pride in her might have stung, the emotion that begged to be let go might have been hurting... Meg wouldn't have known, and, worse of all, would not have cared.
Re: Merriment
Control. She grasped for the control, begged for it, then found it gone without a trace as she was pulled into his arms. Her steps followed his gracefully, bare feet trailing across the sand as if by second nature, as if but muscle remembrance, but her heart was not in the dance. Her heart was beating fast in her chest as the motions of his body tightened, coiled like a snaked constricting around her and she knew, suddenly that something was not as it seemed. The only thing she had control over was herself and that was fleeting, especially the command over her breath and heart rate. The pounding of her head was echoed by quickened breathing that might have resembled sexual excitement or excitement of any state, but the imploring question in her eyes didn’t echo either of those sentiments. “Why… Why me?” Crystal’s voice was vapid, breathless, and submissive, almost pleading with him to tell her. His answer never came. His hands grew tighter around her and she wished he was holding her protectively, provocatively, anything that would have soothed her mind in the instant. She hoped, she wished, she prayed, but she couldn’t lie to herself. Something was not right. Everything was not okay.
Crystal’s eyes went wide as her formal title was thrown out of his mouth like refuse, like daily trash thrown into a family wastebasket. Had her reaction time not been slowed by the sudden shock of realization that she hadn’t informed him of that, she would have jerked her hand away sooner but all was lost. A startled sound was ripped from her mouth as his lips descended on hers, devouring her lips and almost bruising them with need. He wasn’t seeking sexual gratification, no, he didn’t want anything that trivial. Had the man before her wanted that, he wouldn’t have started it this way. She whimpered as his tongue entered her mouth, the slight taste of cigarette smoke and mint tangling with her tongue and flowing through her senses, and weakening her greatly. Fight… Flee… Surrender. The choices ran through her mind again and instantly, her body responded with the greatest betrayal. Surrender. Her lips went soft under him as did the rest of her body, melting and molding against him, each curve matched for every angle. Where he was hard and muscular, she met him with utter softness. Her mind cried for it to end, for her to stop embarrassing herself but she couldn’t, her body had voiced its decision and she responded to the kiss, sucking on the tongue in her mouth gently, unobtrusively, as it raped her mouth, taking it for all it was worth.
She pulled away violently from his mouth, or so she thought but possibly, he just released her. Crystal backed away a few steps, her eyes wild and her lips bruised with the force of the kiss that had been bestowed on her, and not entirely unwillingly accepted. The Elder stood around feet away from him and her voice was garbled, unsure as she spoke. “Don’t ever try that shit again.” Her eyes betrayed her, as she looked at him, as well as the flushed cheeks that she now possessed. She had liked it. Crystal had liked the roughness with which he'd shoved into her mouth, as well as the hand tangled in her hair. She'd liked the loss of control and the helplessness, and her eyes gave all of those feelings away. She couldn’t leave, she realized because somehow, the man was still between her and the exit and all of the other gates had been locked with thick chains. Crystal locked eyes with the man whose eyes she couldn’t see and turned her back on him slowly, then walked away, threading her way through the pitch black carnival with still bare feet on the sand. She was going back to the carousel to fetch her hoodie and then, she was going home. The first time it had started out with a kiss, the kiss of Death. She couldn’t take this all over again, not this time. Fight? Flee? Surrender? “Flee” seemed like a wonderful suggestion to her
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Re: Merriment
"Did I remind you of someone?" The voice was harsh, but there was a definite change in it, where once it had sounded masculine, it came across as a deeply husked feminine voice this time. Meg grasped the thong and pulled it from blue hair, allowing the illusion to break now as he... no, she, had gotten what she wanted. It couldn't have been fake, could it--after all, Crystal had been flush pressed up against the taller figure's body and there had been nothing, no weight at the chest to suggest curves. It got worse, even as Meg discarded the illusion to the wind, a piece of magic that protected her soundly over the centuries--the ability to shift form in and out of anything she wished--the voice was hauntingly familiar. Something Crystal had only heard in dreams... no, nightmares. Had Meg wished to catch her, she could have, but she had hoped curiousity would do it for her, without Meg's touch. She didn't want to hurt her, but she would. She knew the temptation would be there, too strong to ignore, if she touched her again. That woman was the only person who had been able to affect the curse, and while she should have been grateful, while she should have thanked the little she-vixen for allowing her love to see one day without a veil of blood over his eyes, she hated her... There was nothing but hate. "... I've seen your nightmares, too, Crystal, love... and trust me... I won't kiss you again. It was for the gratification of knowing the truth, and now, I do." Your lips were on my Fedafyr's. You snotty, arrogant bitch. She had stood so high as the goddess of chaos once upon a time, so high that she thought nothing could touch her, now she was a demi-god, and there was nothing to save her feelings from some fool mortal with auburn hair and blue eyes. Her fingers dug into the wood beside her, claws denting into it with anger.
"Every night, while you dream of him, I see past his eyes. Every night when he tosses and turns and thinks about you when he can't even remember my face..." The wood split and began to fall, but the tapestry that hug between it reading "Welcome to the Carnival!" held it in place, and she found the control to release it before further damage was done... Centuries upon centuries, until I could even see what he dreamed.. that was what we had.. and you, you only had one kiss, one night... Her bare foot stepped forward, but she stopped herself from committing to the approach. Thousands upon thousands of years of causing great wars that would tear the mother's earth apart. Nuclear bombs and people screaming, world war one, world war two, these were the powers she possessed, and now, she had to restrain herself from taking vengeance on one little mortal. This was what she was reduced to. Some sewage rat fighting for the attention of someone she loved.
"And was the kiss good, Darling....?" She hissed that hiss that could only have reminded one of him. She mocked the girl in front of her with such contempt and malice that she even imitated the voice she had fallen asleep to for three centuries. That voice that hadn't hissed before the accident... that voice...
Re: Merriment
Crystal smiled softly against the goddess’s cheek and touched her, softly as she had not paid the same respect to the Elder. This heartless, cruel creature loved the only thing that could match her darkness and she knew the threat, she knew the hate that lay within the demigod and she knew she didn’t care. “You do not know me, dark creature. If I was afraid of being alone, nine centuries of it would have terrified me to the core. I don’t want to be Merin, Saei'ni , for I know the feeling of that one true love that will never fade as well as you do. What I want is to soothe an aching heart for just one heartbeat, for one moment, and perhaps to feel it beat in time with mine, but not become someone else. Just as you wish you could do for a demon who no longer remembers your voice.”
Crystal brushed her lips across the lips of the goddess who drew near, who would destroy her had it not been for the memory of brief love. “You ask me if I want to forget. No. I don’t want to forget because that is a coward’s way out. You aren’t like him. You were right about that. You’re like me. A miserable creature who will never replace that flicker of light in their soul, the one thing that made them alive.” The Elder’s fingers brushed across cheeks that didn’t flood with tears as they should have and wiped away the invisible, memory of the tears that had fallen from the mismatched eyes. “You find me disgusting just as I find your kind repulsive. The ability to kill with no mercy, with no remorse is inhuman and that, I will never understand nor care to understand. You are wrong about so many things you don’t understand, Goddess. The will to nurture is something you could never comprehend or even come close to.”
“You ask me if I wish to forget, beautiful one. You’ll never realize I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to remember.”
With that, the Elder stood on shaking legs and looked up into the storming sky, knowing that the demigod had created this and feeling a sense of awe drift over her. Her eyes turned on the blue haired creature before her and she met her eyes with her own sapphire jewels once again. Remorse for Shi’s pain spilled from the azure orbs as she walked from the muddy carnival grounds and through the entrance to the carnival. She knew the demigod wouldn’t follow her out and she imagined she’d never see the eyes again. As she turned, she took one long glance back and shook her head slowly.
Though they were miles apart in everything else, they still knew the same pain and harbored the same hope. That was the way life was, but there was no justification for the feeling and no justification for the pain. They said time heals all wounds, but they must be lying or have never fallen in love. Time heals nothing for when dreams over take one’s mind, soul, and heart… The memories are as fresh as they were ten thousand years before.
"The white city fell without her. Peace revolved around her, but when the mother left her children, they destroyed one another... She'll never forget that she left--she'll wear the chains of the martyr as she pulls the world's weight behind her, still thinking she's not doing enough." Morrigan Aensland
Shi's fingers reached out, blood whispering across the elder's shirt and arm as the touch was barely one out of a fairytale, and the rain washed the blood away almost as soon as it trailed across the elder's skin. Time, hope, the world grew between them, but as the elder slipped away, there was one thing that Meg could set her straight on. One thing alone that she still held knowledge of, something that might help or hurt, because she was not allowed to do as she wished. The voice in the back of her head would not permit it, "You're wrong, you know..." She stood from the dirt as the rain pelted her, the red-haired elder standing beneath the tapestry clinging desperately to a splintered pole and it's former twin. The goddess' fingertips slipped up to push the tears that fell away, leaving blood on her cheek instead, "You think you are wise--you think you have seen everything, all the pain that Paris was suffering, but only your kind understands such things as nurturing... your kind." Shi reached into her pocket with a bloodied hand, pulling out a page from a memory. "Can you believe it--that you've seen so much, but still don't understand? You think that having claws and sharp teeth means we have no humanity, that we are truly only selfish despite the fact that you now know that we can love." There was a reason she had hated their kind, at least hers was the truth. The wind billowed and threw her curls around her face like a spider's web, caressing her cheeks with their soft touch and sticking to where the tears and blood held them. "I hate your kind for a reason that is the truth--you hate mine... for a lie. I hate your kind because you are weak in the ways of resolution, because you can't see clearly through that haze you call emotion. I hate your kind because you lie to yourselves and to others, professing that you are good when in reality, the bulk of you should rot in hell far longer than I. I hate your kind because you kill each other in wars for possession over one another's lands, and you do it so willingly it makes me sick. Greed, love, is your kind's favored trait.. and though you yourself do not fall into it, you know that the bulk of you do."
She began to cross the distance between them, enclosing the small page with her fingerprints upon it in a ziplock baggie as she moved, "You hate my kind because we feel no remorse after a kill, or so you say. The only two creatures you have met of my kind are myself and Paris, and we are part of the host of gods this world depends on... But you didn't mean race so much as you meant mentality, lumping us together because I cared deeply for him and him for me, but for all you know of him, you see nothing." She held the ziplock baggy between them, the blood on her fingers running down across the plastic, her arms and hands bathed in it where the tears washed it down her face. "Read it when you're ready to know the truth. Perhaps, then, you'll understand that your Paris isn't the only one who doesn't deserve to suffer, although you've spent so long singling him out as your own kind." Her voice echoed in the dark, her frame lit up as the lightning flashed across the sky in angry dragons that consumed one another.
"For all your nurturing and humanity, Crystal Dinaia, you are still a bigot fool."
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