IP: 86.9.23.197
Posted on May 31, 2010 at 09:21:34 PM by Intrigue
Picture it all these fairies squashed into the core to escape drowning and death. A great castle that escapes the flooding does seem pretty ideal given the current circumstances. Shame everything’s in chaos. Rather obvious that no one knows what to do except panic about others, loved ones, family, familiars and of course themselves. Let’s face it when it comes to a natural disaster the first thing anyone looks out for is themselves and whatever they care for the most. It’s in desperate times that people really show what they love, what lengths they’re willing to go to, what they are willing to live for, willing to kill for and willing to die for. All the outwards layers of a person get stripped away and you’re left with the inners. There guts or there lack of guts. Peel away the layers and see if the cores rotten and putrid or strong and pure. Apparently a lot of fairies seem to have inner banshees at their core, judging by the wails, screaming, sobbing crying. Sure they have reasons to screech and panic but it doesn’t help children now does it? Evacuation and panic leads to separating and then even more panicking which leads to crying children with snot dribbling from their noses looking helpless and wondering where their parents are. So that’s pretty much happening everywhere and by everywhere I mean the non-flooded core. Here in the banquet hall it’s not much different you have the adult faeries worrying over their familiars trading whispers and fear stricken looks. Fear is rife and loss is evident, not just the fact that everyone’s clothes smell of mildew and are damp or creased. Water, disgusting sulphur ridden water is the stench that hangs in the air. It’s also the pained look, deadened eyes, hopeless and grief ridden faces from losing some one they love. They’ll get over it in the end....or die. In one of the corners there’s a small group of children. Ages vary, young ones who seem to be constantly wailing with tears streaming down their chubby faces creating those ugly raspberry red blotches and shattering eardrums. Others are older some with quavering lips and sniffing. Not all of them have suffered the loss of a parent; they’ve just been misplaced in the midst of the confusion. Atop a wooden table sits a girl. She’s in her teenage years, the tips of her long dark hair appear to be damp and its length almost brushes the table tops. Jeans cling to her thighs the material dry but cold with the last ebb of water leaving them. Beside her are a set of black, steel capped boots, her feet remain bare. A wet t shirt is draped with the boots and a bright crimson vest clings to her upper form. Her green eyes have a glaze over them as she stares into middle distance her chin is resting in her left palm, her elbow against her knee as she sits cross legged a look of boredom etched across her features. Below her on a bench sits a child. This child is young at a guess five but she’s not sure children’s age is difficult to judge. All she knows is its got snot dribbling down his chin, a mop of golden curls, bright wet shiny eyes that are spilling tears and tears and tears, trembling lips that keep opening in huge screeches and desperate sobs that stick in the back of his throat. His presence annoys her intensely. Intrigue has never been interested in children...ever. Her sister was a completely different matter. This child was no relation to her, she didn’t know him and didn’t want to all she was aware of was the fact his screams were making her go deaf. Intrigue stood picking up her t-shirt and boots she began to walk away to find a quieter place where the people were less annoying; if that were possible. |
Replies:
- A tongue like a razor ready to slice. - By Blake June 1, 2010 at 08:35:53 PM
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