MAEA
Carry me through this world alive
I feel no more, this suffering
I feel no more, this suffering
When the people leave and silence fall over buildings that are normally filled with life, they take on a different feel. It is almost as if they retreat into themselves, go to sleep and dream, dark dreams of shadows and dust, things that crawl under the floor and watch from just beyond that halfclosed door, that shuttered window. As if, it would be better to cover all the mirrors and blow out the candle - in case there might be something moving in the reflection that really shouldn't be there.
Slipping from her room in the late hours of the night, Maea made a point of walking as soundlessly as she could. There was something in the air that frowned upon loud noises, that warned her about drawing too much attention to her presence. In many ways, she was an outsider here. A temporary presence, uncomfortable in the loud frenzy of the evening revels and quick to slink away into the solitude of her borrowed quarters. The VlamVloed was supposed to be a haven for her in this time of need... but she didn't feel it tonight.
Tired and none too happy about being dragged from her bed at this hour, she set the flickering candle she'd brought along on the counter and climbed up on one of the bar stools - too high for her by far. Pulled the shawl close about her shoulders. Despite the closeness of the air after so many people depriving it of all oxygen, with the many smells of a bar lingering, she felt chilled. A bit out of sorts, like the throat was too tight and her thoughts hadn't entirely dragged themselves out of sleep yet. A sheef of paper crumpled in her hand, and with a wry twist of her mouth she held it up and read it again, before slowly feeding it to the open flame.
"Way to pick awful times to meet, fishboy," she murmured... and regretted breaking the silence right away, when the empty hall beyond her back seemed to condense into something living, something quite aware.
Slipping from her room in the late hours of the night, Maea made a point of walking as soundlessly as she could. There was something in the air that frowned upon loud noises, that warned her about drawing too much attention to her presence. In many ways, she was an outsider here. A temporary presence, uncomfortable in the loud frenzy of the evening revels and quick to slink away into the solitude of her borrowed quarters. The VlamVloed was supposed to be a haven for her in this time of need... but she didn't feel it tonight.
Tired and none too happy about being dragged from her bed at this hour, she set the flickering candle she'd brought along on the counter and climbed up on one of the bar stools - too high for her by far. Pulled the shawl close about her shoulders. Despite the closeness of the air after so many people depriving it of all oxygen, with the many smells of a bar lingering, she felt chilled. A bit out of sorts, like the throat was too tight and her thoughts hadn't entirely dragged themselves out of sleep yet. A sheef of paper crumpled in her hand, and with a wry twist of her mouth she held it up and read it again, before slowly feeding it to the open flame.
"Way to pick awful times to meet, fishboy," she murmured... and regretted breaking the silence right away, when the empty hall beyond her back seemed to condense into something living, something quite aware.
Bury me in this cold light
I feed the wolf, and shed my skin
I feed the wolf, and shed my skin
