Post by rozália katona on Jan 8, 2018 0:16:55 GMT
i'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been.
The flame of her hair marred the waning of the sky overhead, Rozália’s pale emerald flitting movement to movement; the witch’s hands displaced with a flutter, running porcelain through crimson, strands pooling against her skin as blood from a dying throat. She rested there in wait, the cool exterior of the wall pressing harshly against her bladed shoulders as the fabric of her clothing brushed, flirted, against her legs.
[break][break]
Amirani flickered beneath the roof overhead, magma running over their ashen shell; the scorpion was dark, flashing, and watchful. Their heat was bitten back by restraint, the dust of burnt coal settling over the cracks. Their witch trusted few; Amirani trusted less— a perfected guard sporting more barriers than entrances in the eye of the cautious.
[break][break]
Rozália’s Observatory Vol. 1: Scroll #1 interface was pulled forward, though no one seemed to pay attention; perhaps it was because around these parts, people learned to keep their wits about and their tongues rolled, and the last thing they would want would be their information stored in a file they didn’t have to be in.
[break][break]
That, or perhaps some have learned when to toy with the dragon and when to avoid being scorched from the fire.
[break][break]
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d start to think your heart isn’t in this business anymore,” the redhead muttered to her sister, though her eyes did not leave to meet their twins. “But you’re my sister— and I know better.”
[break][break]
Something was off— tilted in the wrong way, seeming as if it was all going to crash over if Rozália didn’t, at least, make a remark. She did not have to be an athenian to know when the tides were shifting in Sundial, and when they were edging into her territory — over the things and people she held dear.
[break][break]
“So what is it then?” she continued after a beat, wetting her lips. Rozália was hardly ever an overly serious type, but no jeering or malice could be found in her words; instead, if one knew her well enough — which Aurélia certainly did — there was concern dripping there, though to an outsider she sounded nothing more than curious.
[break][break]
Amirani flickered beneath the roof overhead, magma running over their ashen shell; the scorpion was dark, flashing, and watchful. Their heat was bitten back by restraint, the dust of burnt coal settling over the cracks. Their witch trusted few; Amirani trusted less— a perfected guard sporting more barriers than entrances in the eye of the cautious.
[break][break]
Rozália’s Observatory Vol. 1: Scroll #1 interface was pulled forward, though no one seemed to pay attention; perhaps it was because around these parts, people learned to keep their wits about and their tongues rolled, and the last thing they would want would be their information stored in a file they didn’t have to be in.
[break][break]
That, or perhaps some have learned when to toy with the dragon and when to avoid being scorched from the fire.
[break][break]
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d start to think your heart isn’t in this business anymore,” the redhead muttered to her sister, though her eyes did not leave to meet their twins. “But you’re my sister— and I know better.”
[break][break]
Something was off— tilted in the wrong way, seeming as if it was all going to crash over if Rozália didn’t, at least, make a remark. She did not have to be an athenian to know when the tides were shifting in Sundial, and when they were edging into her territory — over the things and people she held dear.
[break][break]
“So what is it then?” she continued after a beat, wetting her lips. Rozália was hardly ever an overly serious type, but no jeering or malice could be found in her words; instead, if one knew her well enough — which Aurélia certainly did — there was concern dripping there, though to an outsider she sounded nothing more than curious.
364 WORDS FOR aurélia katona, ashanti verna ― are you ready to RUMBLE
by sixsmith.
