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Post by Yasu on Oct 4, 2008 5:10:31 GMT -5
A hushed strike led to a flame upon a match, the wooden stick having run along a sandpaper surface. She held it to her mouth and lit the cigarette lightly held between her teeth. It's ignition was only recognized through a long stream of exhaled smoke, Chiyoko having breathed in a deep, nicotine breath.
The demon stood outside a building, leaned against the stone wall and watching the city through gleaming brownish eyes. They were glazed over from the lack of sleep the night before. Missions were so time consuming.
The matches slipped into her pocket aside the slightly darkened hand. The other held the stick of tobacco whenever her mouth felt the need to be free of it. The sun was returning to the ground and the light was becoming radiant as its daily finale tinted.
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Post by Taka kara Tatsu on Oct 6, 2008 10:38:49 GMT -5
Hollow steps filled the narrow streets, as wanderous feet took their toll on the pavement below. The chill in the air caused her to tighten the trench coat around the body she knew as her own. Noises of nothingness filled the cat ears hidden under the knit hat that was thrown onto the black hair, flowing from her head. Small yellow eyes Stalked from dark corner to dark corner, Waiting for someone to become present.
Watching humanity was Amamie's favorite hobbie now a days. She found them like insects, All being given a specific job at birth and living the rest of their lives to complete it. They amused her with their petty discussions of pain and suffering, agony and disappointment. Clicking her heeled boots against the pavement she made her way down the street, becoming one with the crowd and the noise known as life.
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Post by Yasu on Oct 13, 2008 18:19:50 GMT -5
Oddly enough within this reflection of setting sun, black fields massed with shadow never seemed to gleam amongst others. The woman's clothing seems to suck all this beauty within its own lack of repulsion. The absence was just as beautiful.
But dare she not openly acknowledged her attraction to what is associated with the enemy. Chiyoko's tribe holds true to its element, pride becoming the foundation of its laws. Purity, it claimed, was among light.
Her head turned with a stream of grey leaking from her mouth. It curved around her defined structure of a face before lifting into a faded nothingness. Her eyes still remained attached to this other spectacle of a woman, peering through the corners of their sharp appearance. Her hair wavered listlessly as pale breezes brushed them but barely.
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Post by Taka kara Tatsu on Oct 15, 2008 16:29:07 GMT -5
Slowly moving forward, eyes of mischief watched the passing haunted civilization. Sinked like drones, step by step towards the creator. Not a expression showing on their faces, only the noises of the vehicles clunking along the street.
The demon's pale face looked down at the tainted sidewalk, but her dark eyes not seeing anything. She was lost in another daydream, thinking about random thoughts that were destined to be forgotten about until the next cycle. Just another recovering moment. Feeling a chill in the air, Amamie pulled her trench coat tighter and rubbed her hands together, hoping for some comforting warmth of home.
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Post by Yasu on Oct 24, 2008 18:14:39 GMT -5
A depthful huff revealed another cloud of breath. It was a plume lifting and fading as quickly as it had been born. Dead in the wind.
Her eyes remained fixed upon the wandering tribeswoman, this spectacle of curiosity. She was absolutely beautiful, her strides like graced strokes of a sword. Chiyoko's attention was a sucker for elegance.
She stood from the wall, giving a slight nudge to uplift her leaning body. The stick of nicotine fell on the rugged sidewalk before being crushed briefly by her passing steps. Her eyes never left the targeted interest as the road was crossed being the first obstacle. Chiyoko's hands remained within empty pockets of a long coat.
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