all of me is damned. From earliest beginnings, my fate has been solitude- elegant solitude, elegant loneliness. I let it walk into me like a cathedral, down its isle- wedding bells sound in the secret place of my heart.
Phizarae's heart - poorly stapled shut - pounded in her chest, inflating and expanding from the tension until the sound of flimsy paneling crashing to the ground birthed a new atmosphere.
Dusty walls, dusty boards, dusty birds; in the rotting frost there was no liberation from the dehydrated filth that descended on everything. Nothing that was cleaned prevailed for long, Phizarae no exception. The birds took their furlough in a fluster of what resembled agitation and irritation, surging the palace's powder into their draft with midnight wings, marbling the alabaster girl with a smokier hue. From her pocket, concealed among the pleats of her frothy style, she procured a scrap of cloth and worked it across the most glaring of places that tainted her appearance, those composed of dust, excrement, and smut.
Ultimately, her aegan eyes raised once more to the rafters and distinguished that she was not yet alone; there was still one enduring.
He was the final of them, regarding her unobtrusively, eyes ablaze with the crisp denim of a polar sea - striking. Still, he was an alien to her just as she was to him and that alone conceived a climate of wonder (and reasonably a modicum of hesitation) within Phizarae. She was of a faraway world whose cosmos glittered with alternative stars and so all she could accomplish for now was straining on, rummaging for an interpretation on how she emerged here. And her hands, possibly once proficient at forging realms and nations, seemed so trivial as they dangled at her sides and clung onto a shred of soiled cloth under the weighted gaze of the sole raven.
"I-," she was able to gag out before the dust she had earlier inhaled from the Corvus shouldered a bare cough up her trachea.
After a moment when a sigh caressed her lips and she was equipped to vocalize once more, she didn't recognize which words to use. Why did she feel coerced to say anything in the first place? It was a bird. It hadn't answered her the first time, it wouldn't answer her now. Still, the silence felt thick and awkward and unusual as her gaze fell once more to the fallen beam.
Dusty walls, dusty boards, dusty birds; in the rotting frost there was no liberation from the dehydrated filth that descended on everything. Nothing that was cleaned prevailed for long, Phizarae no exception. The birds took their furlough in a fluster of what resembled agitation and irritation, surging the palace's powder into their draft with midnight wings, marbling the alabaster girl with a smokier hue. From her pocket, concealed among the pleats of her frothy style, she procured a scrap of cloth and worked it across the most glaring of places that tainted her appearance, those composed of dust, excrement, and smut.
Ultimately, her aegan eyes raised once more to the rafters and distinguished that she was not yet alone; there was still one enduring.
He was the final of them, regarding her unobtrusively, eyes ablaze with the crisp denim of a polar sea - striking. Still, he was an alien to her just as she was to him and that alone conceived a climate of wonder (and reasonably a modicum of hesitation) within Phizarae. She was of a faraway world whose cosmos glittered with alternative stars and so all she could accomplish for now was straining on, rummaging for an interpretation on how she emerged here. And her hands, possibly once proficient at forging realms and nations, seemed so trivial as they dangled at her sides and clung onto a shred of soiled cloth under the weighted gaze of the sole raven.
"I-," she was able to gag out before the dust she had earlier inhaled from the Corvus shouldered a bare cough up her trachea.
After a moment when a sigh caressed her lips and she was equipped to vocalize once more, she didn't recognize which words to use. Why did she feel coerced to say anything in the first place? It was a bird. It hadn't answered her the first time, it wouldn't answer her now. Still, the silence felt thick and awkward and unusual as her gaze fell once more to the fallen beam.
"."
Phizarae
the winteress
