#gildedweapon

[dethvoid]

From @gildedweapon / @cerisewaves

Indescribable, this feeling. This pull. Nay, this t u g. Like the currents of an undertow. Taught and dripping, encrusted garnets; threaded line that has her by the wrists, ankles, spun ov'r her pallid body-To him. Exigent is this.

Perpetual is this.

For one as she to slink away from The Shop, sun warming her back as if to call her away from the chill of shadowed corners. Of chain-link fences and broken glass. Of skittering creatures that no doubt knew better of what truly crouched 'fore them.

To the alleyway, then. Where light dips into darkness, melts into it just as much as she wished she could right now. Her cogged heart aches. Yearns.

She is reminded of swiss cheese.

"I miss you..." She whispers all around her, knowing, hoping, he'd hear her this time. Slowly, she slumps 'gainst the graffitied wall as if 'twere him.

Knowing, hoping.

He has been here the entire time; a ghost keeping his haunt in the city so named Redgrave. It’s his now, not only the devil hunter who only really owns his ruins of a shop. His doppelgänger instead ventures to the seedier streets; the alleys, the off-beaten path of urban environment. 

He knows the graffiti by heart without understanding most of it. 

The newest one sits upon the intersection of two alleys leading to one; two forms synonymous with human bodies clinging to one another. It’s distinct amongst the rest, depicting devils and violence; their odes to complaint and plea. 

This isn’t the alleyway, but he’s reminded of it with every inch closer she comes.

Unto the gates of the unfathomable. His endless darkness.

Where her whisper is a feather on the surface water, gentle upon the surface, however creating ripples where it sought to flow. 

The shadow crawling upon dried paint and moss over the wall comes alive from behind, clinging to her waist, along her cheek, over her lips-----with the shudder of his ache for her, (no, let him correct himself: an ache implies he could go on without. Ivory is a must, a need). 

He comes alive with it, with the gentle embrace of her where once was only brick and tar. 

 The shade speaks:  ❝ Please stay with me here. ❞

In the dark, where light meets shadow---Upon the brink of human and demon world.

Anywhere, all he asks is to be together with her.

[dethvoid]

@gildedweapon

Lethiferous girl, cascading golds and greens; a nigh fragile bubble for the gleaming, molten silver that bursts with a spark. A herald. A pale rider. She breathes gun smoke, speaks flowers. Thorns 'twould rupture and choke, do not; rust 'twould corrode, does not. Heart full of cogs, down to the gun grease flowing therein, it all comes to a still for moment. For a chance. To be reflected in those garnets embedded in obsidian.

For he sees her as she sees him. The veracity 'twixt them. Organic and non. Tangible and not. Adored. Loved.

Always.

Gelastic, velvet lips that press such tender chasteness, 'twould wound even the greatest warrior. Akin to a phoenix, she dies and is reborn from each touch, each glance, each syllable that tumbles forth from his throat. Long has she sensed him, that chilled-warmth. (Heretofore) Long where the days of sitting in his shades, shadows; anything and all, just for a chance, a moment. Such as this.

Silvery voice hitches, a small shiver down her spine from his mark, ❝ D-Dark! ❞ Jovial whispered exclamation, elation rises as does she, w-well of sorts. To half turn, throw her lithe body 'gainst his in hug to squeeze perhaps the life out of him. Head cants to let the last rays of the sun be blocked by her locks. Safety. Here in her arms, he always would be. Would he not?

Kismet.

Pallid hand raises to cup his cheek, run her slender thumb along the angular jawline that she too presses a saccharine kiss to; bullseye. ❝ I-I have not been here, ehm, too long. ❞ Since noon. Filled with dreading greens and swirling greys, stomach doing strange flips like what Dante did with the batter on the stove in the mornings.

She bites her lower lip, eyes full of his image alone, ❝ Hello, the one I cherish the most. ❞ Another whisper, afraid of the world to shatter this moment. Afraid this was another idyllic dreaming of the day. ❝ D-Did you miss me? I missed you. Ached for you. I-I am sorry for making you wait...❞

His name is but a song on her lips; euphonious voice which rises above the common noise from below. The bustling streets of the city has left them secluded in plain sight. Ivory takes his name in her mouth with her hand on his heart, as if a precious thing, to be kept secret in this meeting of lovers. A power that leaves him sundered.

The name she speaks has belonged to him for mere years, mere raindrops collecting in the well of his lifetime. Oh, but when she speaks it, she cherishes every letter on her tongue. A sweet sound, in every pronunciation. When Ivory says his name, does it truly feel as his.

Yet the shadow cannot help but let a laugh fall from his lips as she leaps to throw her arms around him. An eager embrace, messy and contagious, as limbs cross and they behold one another. Parting his legs just so to give her room in between, he holds her just as close as she does, spite the rays undoing the flesh of his limb. 

To see Ivory in the final parting of the sun, a rare image, how she looks in all manners of the daytime remains unbeknownst to him. Violet light outlines her soft features. He can’t help but mimic, pressing the palm of his hand to her cheek. To remember a sight such as her; divine in flesh and steel, glinting like gunmetal. 

A kiss like a bullet, for her lips are gone too soon.  Dark longs for more by the time she pulls away. He wants her to drown him in them. 

❝ Hello, ❞  A repetition of her phrase,  ❝ one I have longed for the most, the one whom I counted the hours for. The one who owes me no apologies, because the fault is all mine.  ❞ as the demon speaks he begins to lean forward into her. Close enough to have their lips ghost each other’s.

               ❝ How beautiful you look in this light. ❞

[dethvoid]

She sits on the rooftop of the Shop, chilled zephyrs strolling through the air and her locks. Gilded rays of the setting sun kisses her cheeks, reflecting in her emerald eyes. Cogged heart pounds, thuds, THUNDERS; a crescendo rising in swirling jovial warmth of oranges and yellows, fuschias and bursting baby blues. She waits. Waits for dusk to come. Waits for him.

@gildedweapon

And he waits in turn.

For the clouds to eclipse the sun, for the moon to overtake the skies. For the skyline to sway from orange to scarlet, and dissolve to violet and blue. The shadow waits for night.  He lurks in every crevice of the roof she sits on, all of him hidden between the cracks of asphalt shingles and the space beneath the boards of an ill-gotten accident long ago that had carved a hole in the roof. 

The devil watches her silhouette, able to see her sun-kissed hair spun gold by the sun, her face hidden beneath the basking light. What it would be like to see each colour reflected in her viridescent eyes, her expression as she watches the sunset. Imagination roams to fill the gaps, the attempt to stifle his ingrowing impatience goes to no avail. 

He muses in the wake of biding his time, wonders if she can feel him near---No matter how thin his presence was scattered in the shade. Would she be able to hear the darkness call out to her? The ceaseless whispers of I’m here,  I’m here with you now,  please never forget I’m here.

A risk is taken by the first shred of violet; the shadows collect together just behind Ivory, herself a shield to her lover, the protector, even when unbeknownst. Strength wanes, his form shimmers and dissolves with the pinpricks of light until he angles himself in a crouch just right. This form, this body not his own, an illusion he’s trapped in / he curses it.

The benefits though, to be able to wrap his arm against Ivory waist and pull her close to him, ( ignore the flits of smoke emitting from his hand, caught against the final flecks of sun ). His head buried to her neck, he pushes against blonde tresses to lay a kiss upon her neck / to the mark etched in skin. Their eternal bond. 

❝ Meus. ❞  Mine, as I am yours.  ❝ How long have you been up here? ❞