Test Drive:
Jul. 29th, 2014 01:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
killerroseRoof Tops: Night
[Her sword drips with blood, her black boots standing in the middle of the dark puddle as she looks up into her victims gaze. Her eyes are cold and calculating as her grip on the girl’s neck shifts. Her sword rises up once more slicing her head from her shoulders with a clean poetic arc. The body falls like a doll over the edge of the building until landing below where the figure freezes in death.
Ib drops the head on the rooftop, the girl’s blood continuing to pool as blue eyes look out in horror. A tangled mass of dark blond hair is stained with red like everything else on the roof. It is a beautiful painting left scattered along the buildings edge.]
One more piece.
[Her voice is soft as she turns away. Her gloved hand holds a bloody mass of tissue as she walks towards the painting that calls her.]
Bar: Night
Ib tilted her head to the side, a curtain of dark hair falling in response. It was the same most nights and again she was asked out. Her tight leathery black top was enough to make the boy’s mouth water but add her red eyes, the dark shade of her hair and the fact that she worked in a gothic night club and you got the perfect eye candy.
She made good tips that way.
A cruel smile pulled at her lips, one she had practiced since her first day, while her thin finger reached out and trailed along the boys jaw. He was older than her but he had a baby face that made people card him constantly. His name might have been Trevor; Ib never really took the time to remember.
“You know I can’t.”
Daytime:
She walked through the streets, her hands at her sides with her shadow following close behind her. Her red gaze flicked over those walking passed as if looking for something she had lost. He was complete and yet that preditorial urge remained.
“Garry.”
Her voice was soft but rang with a tone that demanded it be listened to. In an instant the shadow stepped forward, his eyes dead and cold like the puppet that he was. Ib placed her hand in his, looking at him as if they were the only ones along the crowded street. Those looking at the pair might mistake them for lovers except that their bond was much deeper than that.
The hum of those around them pulled her from her thoughts; she released his hand and turned forward. Like a good puppet he followed behind keeping his cold gaze on her long brown hair as it fanned behind her.
Random:
Start your own scene!
[Her sword drips with blood, her black boots standing in the middle of the dark puddle as she looks up into her victims gaze. Her eyes are cold and calculating as her grip on the girl’s neck shifts. Her sword rises up once more slicing her head from her shoulders with a clean poetic arc. The body falls like a doll over the edge of the building until landing below where the figure freezes in death.
Ib drops the head on the rooftop, the girl’s blood continuing to pool as blue eyes look out in horror. A tangled mass of dark blond hair is stained with red like everything else on the roof. It is a beautiful painting left scattered along the buildings edge.]
One more piece.
[Her voice is soft as she turns away. Her gloved hand holds a bloody mass of tissue as she walks towards the painting that calls her.]
Bar: Night
Ib tilted her head to the side, a curtain of dark hair falling in response. It was the same most nights and again she was asked out. Her tight leathery black top was enough to make the boy’s mouth water but add her red eyes, the dark shade of her hair and the fact that she worked in a gothic night club and you got the perfect eye candy.
She made good tips that way.
A cruel smile pulled at her lips, one she had practiced since her first day, while her thin finger reached out and trailed along the boys jaw. He was older than her but he had a baby face that made people card him constantly. His name might have been Trevor; Ib never really took the time to remember.
“You know I can’t.”
Daytime:
She walked through the streets, her hands at her sides with her shadow following close behind her. Her red gaze flicked over those walking passed as if looking for something she had lost. He was complete and yet that preditorial urge remained.
“Garry.”
Her voice was soft but rang with a tone that demanded it be listened to. In an instant the shadow stepped forward, his eyes dead and cold like the puppet that he was. Ib placed her hand in his, looking at him as if they were the only ones along the crowded street. Those looking at the pair might mistake them for lovers except that their bond was much deeper than that.
The hum of those around them pulled her from her thoughts; she released his hand and turned forward. Like a good puppet he followed behind keeping his cold gaze on her long brown hair as it fanned behind her.
Random:
Start your own scene!
Yay random things!
Date: 2016-01-23 03:17 pm (UTC)If you can wait until I'm off of work.
Yay random things!
Date: 2016-01-24 04:59 pm (UTC)Why not? I'm free tonight.
Yay random things!
Date: 2016-01-24 05:33 pm (UTC)[She smiles and sets to work though it's obvious that her attention in between working is set on Sean. It's a busy night and she only has time to catch a few words back and forth as she moves swiftly behind the bar. Towards the end of the night it lightens up.
Ib pulls her hair back slightly pushing the dark tresses over her pale shoulder.]
So do you think you'll come by again?
[She asks innocently as her shift slowly crawls to its end. Her hands moving over the polished bar as she wiped it down.]