Post by ombra on Aug 20, 2008 1:18:20 GMT -8
"Ombra!"
He strides. He's a boy, still. But he strides, his gait as liquid as any lion's. Already, his skin smells of blood and ozone, of metal and air. His dark hair is such a color. Blood crusts into that color, and grapes ferment into that color. He's smiling, open and unwary, all friendliness, at the girl he just hailed.
The girl he just hailed is stretched out in the shade, one arm across her eyes, her mouth curved. The sound of her name causes her to say, "Ares."
She sits up, resting the weight of her torso on her right arm. She's a girl, still. But there's something sensuous about the way she holds herself so still; about the awkward grace of it. About the too-serious dark eyes. Already, her skin smells of moonlight and candles after they've been blown out. She's just a girl, still.
(But girls of a certain age come into a certain kind of power. Boys of the same age, well. They're just screwed. They just become idiots. And girls know it. Mostly.)
He folds his arms along the top of the wall she's sitting on, squinting when the light hits him directly in the eyes. He leans out of the light, and it grazes the back of his neck; carves his cheekbones; catches in one of his eyes. "Are we the only ones at the Temple today?"
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THE OOC NOTE: Okay, so I haven't actually put up Applications for Dark or War yet. Poor War (ahem: Mr. Aiden Archimedes Alexander, in fact) doesn't even have a modern application yet. But this is partly out of laziness, partly because I need to work 'em out, and partly because gosh darnit I just can't decide whether or not I'ma have JRM for both of War's lives and there's no finding an appropriately luminous chick for Dark's past life, so. *g* This is just to help me get "into" them. Others are more than welcome after I post what I've got in mind a little further! Dank oo.
He strides. He's a boy, still. But he strides, his gait as liquid as any lion's. Already, his skin smells of blood and ozone, of metal and air. His dark hair is such a color. Blood crusts into that color, and grapes ferment into that color. He's smiling, open and unwary, all friendliness, at the girl he just hailed.
The girl he just hailed is stretched out in the shade, one arm across her eyes, her mouth curved. The sound of her name causes her to say, "Ares."
She sits up, resting the weight of her torso on her right arm. She's a girl, still. But there's something sensuous about the way she holds herself so still; about the awkward grace of it. About the too-serious dark eyes. Already, her skin smells of moonlight and candles after they've been blown out. She's just a girl, still.
(But girls of a certain age come into a certain kind of power. Boys of the same age, well. They're just screwed. They just become idiots. And girls know it. Mostly.)
He folds his arms along the top of the wall she's sitting on, squinting when the light hits him directly in the eyes. He leans out of the light, and it grazes the back of his neck; carves his cheekbones; catches in one of his eyes. "Are we the only ones at the Temple today?"
----------------
THE OOC NOTE: Okay, so I haven't actually put up Applications for Dark or War yet. Poor War (ahem: Mr. Aiden Archimedes Alexander, in fact) doesn't even have a modern application yet. But this is partly out of laziness, partly because I need to work 'em out, and partly because gosh darnit I just can't decide whether or not I'ma have JRM for both of War's lives and there's no finding an appropriately luminous chick for Dark's past life, so. *g* This is just to help me get "into" them. Others are more than welcome after I post what I've got in mind a little further! Dank oo.