all my life I've never known where you've been
there were holes in you the kind that I could not mend
and I heard you say right when you left that day
does everything go away?
yeah, everything goes away.
but I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing but bones in the ground
so quiet down.
we were opposites at birth, I was steady as a hammer
no one worried cause they knew just where I'd be.
they said you were the crooked kind and that you'd never have no worth
but you were always gold to me.
Steam flowed from the newly opened bathroom door before the blonde slipped through the opening and immediately tensed slightly but didn’t stop her journey from the bathroom across the bedroom floor to her closet. She should have been used to such things, but having herprivacy invaded was only a recent thing she was forced to deal with. Putting a hand on the knot of the towel, scoffing with a flick of her wet hair over her shoulder, sharp blue gaze meeting that of the person who had made themselves more than at home.
“If you were that eager to see me, you could have joined me in the shower,” Lorelei reached the large walk-in closet and gave them a warning look before slipping into its safety to change. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or do you make it a habit of visiting women unprompted?” She called from the closet as she pulled on a shirt and jeans, wet hair resting against her shoulders still, wetting the shirt some.
The club was thumping even though it was still early in the evening on a Saturday, her club was always the place to be, especially when she held one of her little back room events. People of all sorts frequented her place, it may have started out as a business front from her mother but Lorelei had made it hers. Party in the front and business in the back, unlike most club owners, however, the slender woman worked her own bar on the busier nights. It wasn’t that much of a daunting task, she’d always have at least two others on the shift with her so she could easily slip away if she really had to in order to handle whatever business that may come crossing the floor of her club.
Neon lights lit up the dance floor, a classic disco looking setting with the modern rhythms of the era’s current hits for everyone to get caught up in while under a drunken stupor. Despite it being early in the evening, the place was thriving and Lorelei looked very comfortable behind the bar, stationed at the top near the entrance the blonde flashed a small smile, professional if nothing else. Wiping her hands on the towel she had been using to wipe dry some glasses, leaning against the counter as she moved around to the spot where people waited for the bartender. “What can I get you sweetie?”
@magic-madness-heaven-sin liked THIS for a starter | for Livana
“I’m so glad you two agreed to let me come out and stay here, it’s really beautiful.” Lorelei mused with a soft and almost bashful smile, she was there with ulterior motives, but Lori had made it through the smoke screening George had put up quite fitfully through their months of correspondence. It had been a difficult ride, spending hours on the computer writing back and forth before he would even give her his phone number. One thing was for certain, Magdalena did quite a number on the youngest of her children, that Lorelei could TRULY relate to. The slightly older siren was left with her father like a sad bastard, the man was kind and raised her the best as any man who fell in love with the sea could. Often times Lorelei was left with her aging grandmother who she eventually began taking care of, it wasn’t until she was old enough to hold that dark eagerness for power she even began to think of the woman her father would never speak of.
Magdalena was some beautiful phantom goddess of the sea, sometimes Lorelei believed her to BE the sea, that was until she found out she held more than her mother’s passion for the sea but her genes as well. The tragic journey back to Magdalena was one that Lorelei later learned to forget, the disappearance of her father and death of her grandmother gave her no other option but to pursue her mother. In ways it didn’t disappoint, in others, it did. Magdalena would never be her mother, but perhaps together Lorelei could find her rightful place in the world of Sirens and beings of supernatural origins.
The blonde shifted forward and offered another smile, looking at her younger brother’s lovely little wife, walking the beach she almost felt like she was apart of something special. THIS was special. This place, the place George and Livana had made, the family they were raising, the journey they had taken together and for a moment, with her toes wriggling into the sand, Lorelei felt guilty. But she had spent a decade preparing for this moment, living in secret as the bastard child of Magdalena Lewis, not even taking the great Siren’s last name, a name of power, a name which George held and did not want.
“Honestly, I’ve never felt more at home.” It was true, the life she spent on the shores in a distant fishing town, one she wanted to forget more often than not. But for a moment, she felt at peace and could pretend she wasn’t there to destroy the beauty she saw.
Unbind Me: I’ll write a drabble about your character freeing mine from a trap.
The Fury take him, but his carelessness is going to cost him more than his dignity.
It can be easy to fade into the obscurity of the Foundation’s darkened crevices, lost to the snow and shadows. On the other hand, the Holy See can also be persistent with the chase. He and Sid might have stumbled into an affair much more complicated than the usual accusation of heresy, judging from the resources they’re pouring into their frenzied hunt for a single elezen girl.
Unfortunately for Fray, their fanatical fervor has been rewarded.
He put up a fair fight, at least. A pair of Temple Knights, then three more, and another couple followed by – he lost count at that point. The darkside reared his head with a red grin, letting pride and bloodlust rule over his better judgment. All that matters is the battle, the exhilaration born from slaughter. Baited deep into the ruined alleys where ashes and bones from the Dravanian assault remain, he was soon overcome by a score of the so-called heavenly knights.
They didn’t even give him enough time to regret his foolishness. Pragmatic, this lot.
The fruits of defeat are always grim. The darkness has left him weak beneath the dented shell of his armor, arms bound, head and face bared by his captors. Fray glares at the knights, defiant even as he is forced to kneel on the blood-soaked flagstones.
He expects that the Temple Knights will savor their victory over a demon who fell many of their comrades. It’s a blow to his pride, but he will deny them the satisfaction of visible pain as much as he can. Then he will be brought before the Tribunal to face the accusations of heresy. It will be a fine mess, that one, but he can earn his freedom back in a trial by –
Hands hold his shoulders and back, forcing him to face the ground. Fray struggles to lift his head, and he sees a knight heave his greatsword before a blow sends his vision reeling.
Is this how the vigil ends?
“Your death shall go unmourned, heretic.”
In the selfsame pit that killed the boy and spawned the dark knight.
“Halone be praised.”
Fray waits for the blade to fall.
And fall it does, clanging mightily on the ground and the body holding it following suit, armor gashed and spewing blood. Panicked shouts, a flurry of orders, steel-toed boots trampling broken stone and wood – what is happening?
He raises his eyes to behold a savage performance.
The movements are – uncoordinated. Clumsy, as if going through half-memorized motions. But there is power, raw and overwhelming, and every strike cleaves through metal and flesh. A dance waiting to be fully learned yet effective in its lethality. The greatsword whirls past the Temple Knights, each cut leaving a streak of blood, shrouded in a dark, red-tinged mist.
The darkside stirs, as if in recognition. Acknowledgement.
The last body drops in a lifeless heap, and he sees her. A mess of red hair, the ears and tail of a miqo’te. Shining blood-tinted eyes set on a pale, drawn face. Dark spots and smears on battered armor, breath ragged in the cold.
Beautiful, the darkside sighs. For her or the carnage she wrought, Fray doesn’t know.
