11-14-2018, 08:09 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 420px; line-height:120%; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"]Strange is the matter of heart, the desire caught within the complex structure of muscle attributed what the mind draws forth for easier is it to find anchor. It wants what it may with no care to the consequences entangled within such desire, in a way greedy, ever expanding and consuming the love found within central point, nought but a puppet within its strings dancing to the song of it.
Quiet is the murmur of it contained in the beat of heart, caught amongst the fine lines of veins spread through the structure of the small body. Touch of it is slight as about the edge of delicate thought it lingers, scrape of it until it is working through, tainting what it may seek to hold within light a touch. Well they know it though within its shape is different, odd within the way it has been drawn together from shattered pieces, crumbling where they seek to understand and learn of it. Brush of warmth about the complex housing of heart, within the depth of muscle and in the lining of stomach, flickering and curling as though trapped are butterflies, fluttering in vein want to escape. In a way it is pleasant, curl of it upon pale lips touching gentle features toned in light shades, working through the body until together it is drawn.
Yet within a way it is a weapon, dagger within fingers curled and trembling, difficult to hold for it sings for blood, wants with a passion that borders on something unhealthy. Raising within the skin a storm is it, unruly the destruction contained within the delicate stretch of thin skin, festering disease. To which is worse, that of the quiet raise of affection that bares within the nature of naivety wanting only to hold within something, prisoner within the delight of it, or the pain and destruction, wrought within the name of such a love, difficult is it to speak upon. Within their own ways both bore the touch of something dark, wound within the very threads of it, working through until dark was the heart of love.
To which did the faint beat of love for the man deemed father, one of three, fall. About the mind did he raise, the laughter so easy from him once and the covering of flour upon both, adorning the rich shadings he was reduced to within faded sight, enjoying simple activity. Their own laughter had risen in a bright bubble of sound, but crumbling away was it all, sound mixed and changed, within the anger of something dark. Caught in his veins was the essence of evil, the touch of a demonic being which wrought their own, found within the pale blood a home. It mattered not the touch of angel, the children he had assisted in bringing to this world that bore the twisted mess of angelic and demonic tempered with the mortal aspect of another, he was still demonic and so was the love in their heart.
Soft the sigh raising from lips, small the paw lifting to rub along eyes. Difficult had it been to sleep within the days that had passed since the incident contained within the jungle, the darkness of it hiding from them much of the sight but there had been enough, heavy the heart since it had passed. Want was there to confront, to speak of the night and learn what had happened, childish the naive want to brush it aside or have it explained within simple words they may swallow doused within sugar to make it easier to go down. Yet there was no such thing, no words upon tongue raising within his presence, instead they allowed the shaky touch of uneasy smile, pretended all was right. Nose scrunched as the small child sniffled, lift of gaze towards the canvas before them. It mattered not the weakness of eyes they bore enough sight to permit them this little hobby, the splattering of paint about cream toned fur making apparent the darkness within their work. There were no light colours as once there might have been, black and grey mixed with blue, covered the surface of wings bearing their own dark speckling.
It was within the act of pressing a paw to the trays of paint before them when the cry arose, echoing and sharp, though distance softened it some. There was no hesitance within the lurch of body, the stumbling steps of the youth drawing them ever closer to where they thought it had originated from. Difficult is the trek, many times they became entangled within roots that had pushed through the surface of the loose top soil and found themself battered, slow the raise of bruises from that night still, aching when finally tone of cream touched upon dark the shadings of backdrop. Flickering the light of flame encasing the structure of tail, sight once that may have drawn questions but now drew forth only a fluttering of heart, twist of stomach in rough hands. They remembered how Bakugou had spoken to them when first they had stumbled upon another, injured as this one before them was, remarking on things they had no knowledge of for difficult had it been to tell her state.
“Hello...” Almost voice was swallowed within the sounds of the world about them, barely finding a place where it may touch upon audible levels, dull eyes squinting as they looked towards the stranger. The words Pip spoke connected within their mind and all at once Kai was moving a little closer to the young Sage, head tilting up as they addressed him. “Can I help?”
Quiet is the murmur of it contained in the beat of heart, caught amongst the fine lines of veins spread through the structure of the small body. Touch of it is slight as about the edge of delicate thought it lingers, scrape of it until it is working through, tainting what it may seek to hold within light a touch. Well they know it though within its shape is different, odd within the way it has been drawn together from shattered pieces, crumbling where they seek to understand and learn of it. Brush of warmth about the complex housing of heart, within the depth of muscle and in the lining of stomach, flickering and curling as though trapped are butterflies, fluttering in vein want to escape. In a way it is pleasant, curl of it upon pale lips touching gentle features toned in light shades, working through the body until together it is drawn.
Yet within a way it is a weapon, dagger within fingers curled and trembling, difficult to hold for it sings for blood, wants with a passion that borders on something unhealthy. Raising within the skin a storm is it, unruly the destruction contained within the delicate stretch of thin skin, festering disease. To which is worse, that of the quiet raise of affection that bares within the nature of naivety wanting only to hold within something, prisoner within the delight of it, or the pain and destruction, wrought within the name of such a love, difficult is it to speak upon. Within their own ways both bore the touch of something dark, wound within the very threads of it, working through until dark was the heart of love.
To which did the faint beat of love for the man deemed father, one of three, fall. About the mind did he raise, the laughter so easy from him once and the covering of flour upon both, adorning the rich shadings he was reduced to within faded sight, enjoying simple activity. Their own laughter had risen in a bright bubble of sound, but crumbling away was it all, sound mixed and changed, within the anger of something dark. Caught in his veins was the essence of evil, the touch of a demonic being which wrought their own, found within the pale blood a home. It mattered not the touch of angel, the children he had assisted in bringing to this world that bore the twisted mess of angelic and demonic tempered with the mortal aspect of another, he was still demonic and so was the love in their heart.
Soft the sigh raising from lips, small the paw lifting to rub along eyes. Difficult had it been to sleep within the days that had passed since the incident contained within the jungle, the darkness of it hiding from them much of the sight but there had been enough, heavy the heart since it had passed. Want was there to confront, to speak of the night and learn what had happened, childish the naive want to brush it aside or have it explained within simple words they may swallow doused within sugar to make it easier to go down. Yet there was no such thing, no words upon tongue raising within his presence, instead they allowed the shaky touch of uneasy smile, pretended all was right. Nose scrunched as the small child sniffled, lift of gaze towards the canvas before them. It mattered not the weakness of eyes they bore enough sight to permit them this little hobby, the splattering of paint about cream toned fur making apparent the darkness within their work. There were no light colours as once there might have been, black and grey mixed with blue, covered the surface of wings bearing their own dark speckling.
It was within the act of pressing a paw to the trays of paint before them when the cry arose, echoing and sharp, though distance softened it some. There was no hesitance within the lurch of body, the stumbling steps of the youth drawing them ever closer to where they thought it had originated from. Difficult is the trek, many times they became entangled within roots that had pushed through the surface of the loose top soil and found themself battered, slow the raise of bruises from that night still, aching when finally tone of cream touched upon dark the shadings of backdrop. Flickering the light of flame encasing the structure of tail, sight once that may have drawn questions but now drew forth only a fluttering of heart, twist of stomach in rough hands. They remembered how Bakugou had spoken to them when first they had stumbled upon another, injured as this one before them was, remarking on things they had no knowledge of for difficult had it been to tell her state.
“Hello...” Almost voice was swallowed within the sounds of the world about them, barely finding a place where it may touch upon audible levels, dull eyes squinting as they looked towards the stranger. The words Pip spoke connected within their mind and all at once Kai was moving a little closer to the young Sage, head tilting up as they addressed him. “Can I help?”