Break-neck, full-tilt Climb the ladders they built Angels in the abattoir Junking up a good guitar Stale city bandwidth You don't get the language But don't pick on the girl who's only turning on the lightswitch
She didn't know why her pinpoint went wrong or where it had dropped her, but when the dark men on black horses showed up she stopped worrying about anything else. There were several, and their only intent seemed to be to hurt her as badly as they could. Swordstrokes made a spray of black ichor, but didn't slow them down. They swarmed, there was no other word for it, and the dark that surrounded them seemed to spread, like a negative glow. Her concentration taxed by every blow, Mel flung her power out, calling for help, for a better weapon, for anything that would end this fight in her favor. The gnawing pain of where their claws had raked her was like a poison in her blood, and when the glow of white light burst through she wasn't sure if it was a savior or a last hallucination before death. When she woke there was a warm blanket around her, and the figure that watched her was luminous in the dark woods. The eyepatch was like a small black hole in his face. She was wet, and nude, and bleeding, but she was alive. The pale man approached and held up a scrap of paper in one taloned hand, so that she could read what was written there. 'Rare to survive. No human has ever not turned. What are?' His face was hard to read, but his single blue eye was full of awe and respect.
Yeah, it's greyedwhite if you couldn't tell, and this is actually a scenario I've RPed with him and Courtney, but it seemed appropriate.
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Date: Oct. 26th, 2007 05:59 pm (UTC)Climb the ladders they built
Angels in the abattoir
Junking up a good guitar
Stale city bandwidth
You don't get the language
But don't pick on the girl who's only turning on the lightswitch
She didn't know why her pinpoint went wrong or where it had dropped her, but when the dark men on black horses showed up she stopped worrying about anything else. There were several, and their only intent seemed to be to hurt her as badly as they could. Swordstrokes made a spray of black ichor, but didn't slow them down. They swarmed, there was no other word for it, and the dark that surrounded them seemed to spread, like a negative glow. Her concentration taxed by every blow, Mel flung her power out, calling for help, for a better weapon, for anything that would end this fight in her favor. The gnawing pain of where their claws had raked her was like a poison in her blood, and when the glow of white light burst through she wasn't sure if it was a savior or a last hallucination before death.
When she woke there was a warm blanket around her, and the figure that watched her was luminous in the dark woods. The eyepatch was like a small black hole in his face. She was wet, and nude, and bleeding, but she was alive. The pale man approached and held up a scrap of paper in one taloned hand, so that she could read what was written there.
'Rare to survive. No human has ever not turned. What are?'
His face was hard to read, but his single blue eye was full of awe and respect.
Yeah, it's