Post by thia on Oct 9, 2011 2:37:22 GMT -1
There he would lie, as the sun went down, he watched the silent growth of another sea, which the stormy ocean of the wind could not disturb - the sea of the darkness. First it would begin to gather in the crevice of hollow places. Deep valleys, and all little pits on the hillsides, were wellsprings where it gathered, and whence it seemed to overflow, till it had buried the earth beneath its mass, and, rising high into the heavens, swept over the faces of the stars, washed the blinding day from them, and let them shine, down through the waters of the dark, to the eyes of that single man below. Turning his heavy body to the right, his spine bent into a C with his legs brought up to his chest and his eyes diverted from the sunset that danced across the sky birthing stars for mortals and immortal alike grace. The wind curled it's lukewarm fingers through the young vibrant black hair gleaming in the blood red light sending the salt water smell across the coast. "Are you goin' to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine." The strong voice wavered as it was carried away quickly by the wind along with flickers of clear liquid spheres.
Fate and faith.
Call it coincidence, destiny, fate, kismet—in one moment, lives can collide and change forever. Yet chance encounters aren't necessarily accidental, Violet Schuster believed strongly that her life had been led by fate, fate and faith. All her life she had obeyed the convent and church standing innocently upon a cross beneath her feet as she faced a red ribbon that connected her to her life, her fate and that day fate had taken her to him.
Violet's head was throbbing as she shaded her eyes from the merciless morning fragmented light beams that graced her sleeping head. Two African violets in a white plastic margarine container sat beside her window, bubble gum pink and indigo violet blossoms opening. Detaching her white unsullied bed sheets from her body she got up towards the window brushing steel lines of the window glass against her fingers. Cold. How long had she been asleep? She had no idea, though the convent had allowed her to miss her morning prayers and daily chores due to a high fever that she was no longer feeling, minus the panging of pain in her head. A sparrow battered itself against the glass, it's wings fluttering and thumping against the window by her head. Violet gazed past the bird tilting her head to the side as her eyes wondered down the street. The sun burnt at her fragile eyes causing tears to slide down her lids and threaten to spill over. Black rooftops of houses sat in lines below her feet all seeming like a dolls house compared to the long slender over baring church that stuck out from the golden fields of the country. Slowly Violets thoughts channelled and built up until she finally understood what she was thinking about, her feet were bare. The night gown she was wearing was a deep purple lined with lace, covering her thin arms and slender curved body giving away nothing of her physique, just the way God would have wanted it. Refined. Outside, she could see orange tattered flags hanging down from the sagging telephone wires signalling to dump trucks at the construction site, though none had been working now. The street was almost empty, dull grey weathered telephone poles erupted through the sweating grey concrete. Broken asphalt was piled chaotically at the side of the street meaning no one should walk there. The dust hovered around steel supports and giant culverts made of concrete, numbers, letters coded in royal blue spray paint on the culverts which turned upward to the sky calling out to someone, anyone. Violet stood with a peaceful smile on her face perhaps still in a dreamful state pressing her palms flat against the cool glass window.
Why is the street empty? The question was obvious and stood out like the rust coloured rebar jut up through the dirt, like dangerous fingers daring the unaware to walk through them. Pressing her forehead against the barrier in front of her that granted her sight but only sight she turned her head slowly trying to look further up the far away street. The only person that was visible was Mother Astrid, the nun dressed in saffron robes standing outside the monastery, sweeping the dust from the trucks off the terrace. It floated carefree around her in thin beige clouds. She smiled in the afternoon sun causing Violet to ponder if she could see her in the window watching her.
Dragging her eyes back to what was in front of her Violet pressed her knuckles to her temples trying to recollect her thoughts though it proved as hard as catching air with a fishing net. Spinning on her heel Violet walked towards the door of her room peering outside down the empty hallways. Cinderblock painted white with a single grey green stripe at waist height. Closing the door she retreated back to her freshly displayed clothing, a navy blue sailor dress that puffed out at the ends, long navy stockings and two blue ribbons to match. She tied the first ribbon around her right wrist into a bow, using the other thicker and larger ribbon to decorate her neck. She quickly slipped into her navy doll shoes and re-submerged from her room following that green line. Today Violet had decided she would go to the empty park and feed the ducks, something she had felt the need and elated pleasure of peacefulness etch away into her body. The Church was a beautiful places, the monastery alike allowing her a place that was close to God. But it did not provide her the mental loneliness she had come to need every so often.
Upon reaching the green freshly cut park Violet sat alone on the cold metal swing gently swaying with the wind. It was a lovely release to be able to take these walks by herself, she wasn't considered the best able to handle her own actions, but that was the way God had made her, she didn't mind as he had allowed her these moments, breaks in her enveloped life. Violet turned her head as she heard heavy footsteps from behind her, people didn't usually come down to this part of town, but she had forgotten. Forgotten the trouble that shadowed her days out, the devil incarnates born into two bodies of two twenty year old boys. "There you are. You should not have gone out today Princess." The first boy, the skinniest of the two commented, his voice booming over her. Violet gripped hold of the metal chinks that held the swing in place, pulling herself up as she edged behind it ready to move away. "Come now Princess, you won't be denying your princes a chance to play with you again today now will you?" The man chided her, his accomplice grinned with his greedy eyes staring at her body. She knew what they wanted, she had felt the rough unwanted hands grip her like a vice rubbing, stroking breathing down her neck. Violet could do nothing against the two men but each time a kind police officer had been on patrol and helped her, God looked after her. The two men stepped forward, in return Violet pressed herself as far against the metal frame of the swings as she could trembling slightly as her vision tunnelled, the voices fading into a low drone. "She's pretty, can I get first touches before that police officer shows up?" The man known as Orc commented, he was a huge muscular fellow with a buzz cut for a hair style. He lapped his tongue across his lips more over greed for his own lust than to suffice a parched dryness to his cracked skin. Hands began pulling at Violets clothing, cold fingers tracing the inside of her forearms from elbows to wrist, the inner part of her thigh attempting to ease her legs open. But Violet remained rigid hugging her waist as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, a wavering hum of a hymn escaping her lips as she tried to forget what was happening. Something slid down over her lower back, the heaviness reaching to her hips, shrill, excited, more hands, on her throat, sliding down her sides, over her breasts. Hungry, searching, lifting fabric, shifting. Hot rancid sweet breath seeped over her skin as she squirmed to edge away.
"Excuse me Gentlemen, sorry to intrude but I must say with as little respect as I can possible conjure. What the fuck.. are you doing?" A strong R.P. English accent, low and yet soft chimed through the dark trial. "Shut up. The fuck this has to do with you mate? We're having fun now fuck off before I cut you through." The tall man grabbed an army knife from his jumper pocket and held the sharp tip towards the throat of the new comer. The hands of Orc continued to pull, pinch at her nipples under her dress, shifting to pull at her arms, legs wider. Sweaty palms rubbing at her thighs, she was too weak to pull away. Violet Schuster on that day had asked to die, prayed to be ripped in half before she was raped and her innocence stolen from her. She didn't think Orc had heard her, but suddenly she felt lifted, body flying into nothing. Her heart failing, she was falling. Faintly arms wrapped around her pressing her head against a warm chest with no heart beat, then there was running. Was she dead?
The air around them moved like soup. Dust everywhere as Violet pressed further against the man who carried her, though her head lulled like it was rock thick. "Please-.. I can't breathe." She managed to croak, her soft tone muffled by his chest. Finally the running stopped as she felt the return of gravity as she was placed on the ground, soft grass. Opening her eyes she looked around noting she was back at the fields near her monastery, words dragged themselves from Violets throat like nail to flesh "Who are you?" Just to the right of her blocking the evening sun stood one tall man, wide shoulders and long scrawny arms.
Fate.
Faith.
Seeds of Love.
Devante had never imagined he would come across two thugs picking on such a small delicate girl in broad daylight, there was a lot going wrong in Van ski since the rebellion. He had come to the town to obtain a book for his elder sister and was just heading to the kind nun who had agreed to give it to him when he had spotted the crime, not against some lore, morals, but against life itself. It had taken a lot of self control not to kill the two miserable creatures before him but the girl-. .the fragile petal was wavering enough. Could he really deliver the gust of wind to topple her off the edge? She was a beautiful young woman a few years younger than he was he guessed. She had long golden locks that sparkled in the light reminding him of a daisy at morn' when the dew drops decorated the petals. She had fragile glass blue eyes that could have been crystal clear, but not quite. Those eyes gazed up at him causing him to feel uncomfortable at the direct question. He was truly struck by her beauty and innocence that his words crammed in his throat, something that never normally occurred to him with women. He was a ladies' man and generally understood how to hear a ladies heart in just a few hours of talking to them, but he felt no desire to do so here. He just felt the sudden thud of his heart as if it had sky dived from a plane. The feeling was so alien to him he didn't understand it. Blinking, Dante noticed the girl waiting an answer as he forced a soft smile, pushing back his over-grown black bangs. "Devante-.. though I press you call me Dante." She nodded and introduced herself in return thanking him for his actions of saving her from the indecent thugs. Dante knew he had fallen in Love: He felt so intoxicated with affection, with friendship, and love, he couldn't bare the idea of parting from her.
Fate and faith.
Call it coincidence, destiny, fate, kismet—in one moment, lives can collide and change forever. Yet chance encounters aren't necessarily accidental, Violet Schuster believed strongly that her life had been led by fate, fate and faith. All her life she had obeyed the convent and church standing innocently upon a cross beneath her feet as she faced a red ribbon that connected her to her life, her fate and that day fate had taken her to him.
Violet's head was throbbing as she shaded her eyes from the merciless morning fragmented light beams that graced her sleeping head. Two African violets in a white plastic margarine container sat beside her window, bubble gum pink and indigo violet blossoms opening. Detaching her white unsullied bed sheets from her body she got up towards the window brushing steel lines of the window glass against her fingers. Cold. How long had she been asleep? She had no idea, though the convent had allowed her to miss her morning prayers and daily chores due to a high fever that she was no longer feeling, minus the panging of pain in her head. A sparrow battered itself against the glass, it's wings fluttering and thumping against the window by her head. Violet gazed past the bird tilting her head to the side as her eyes wondered down the street. The sun burnt at her fragile eyes causing tears to slide down her lids and threaten to spill over. Black rooftops of houses sat in lines below her feet all seeming like a dolls house compared to the long slender over baring church that stuck out from the golden fields of the country. Slowly Violets thoughts channelled and built up until she finally understood what she was thinking about, her feet were bare. The night gown she was wearing was a deep purple lined with lace, covering her thin arms and slender curved body giving away nothing of her physique, just the way God would have wanted it. Refined. Outside, she could see orange tattered flags hanging down from the sagging telephone wires signalling to dump trucks at the construction site, though none had been working now. The street was almost empty, dull grey weathered telephone poles erupted through the sweating grey concrete. Broken asphalt was piled chaotically at the side of the street meaning no one should walk there. The dust hovered around steel supports and giant culverts made of concrete, numbers, letters coded in royal blue spray paint on the culverts which turned upward to the sky calling out to someone, anyone. Violet stood with a peaceful smile on her face perhaps still in a dreamful state pressing her palms flat against the cool glass window.
Why is the street empty? The question was obvious and stood out like the rust coloured rebar jut up through the dirt, like dangerous fingers daring the unaware to walk through them. Pressing her forehead against the barrier in front of her that granted her sight but only sight she turned her head slowly trying to look further up the far away street. The only person that was visible was Mother Astrid, the nun dressed in saffron robes standing outside the monastery, sweeping the dust from the trucks off the terrace. It floated carefree around her in thin beige clouds. She smiled in the afternoon sun causing Violet to ponder if she could see her in the window watching her.
Dragging her eyes back to what was in front of her Violet pressed her knuckles to her temples trying to recollect her thoughts though it proved as hard as catching air with a fishing net. Spinning on her heel Violet walked towards the door of her room peering outside down the empty hallways. Cinderblock painted white with a single grey green stripe at waist height. Closing the door she retreated back to her freshly displayed clothing, a navy blue sailor dress that puffed out at the ends, long navy stockings and two blue ribbons to match. She tied the first ribbon around her right wrist into a bow, using the other thicker and larger ribbon to decorate her neck. She quickly slipped into her navy doll shoes and re-submerged from her room following that green line. Today Violet had decided she would go to the empty park and feed the ducks, something she had felt the need and elated pleasure of peacefulness etch away into her body. The Church was a beautiful places, the monastery alike allowing her a place that was close to God. But it did not provide her the mental loneliness she had come to need every so often.
Upon reaching the green freshly cut park Violet sat alone on the cold metal swing gently swaying with the wind. It was a lovely release to be able to take these walks by herself, she wasn't considered the best able to handle her own actions, but that was the way God had made her, she didn't mind as he had allowed her these moments, breaks in her enveloped life. Violet turned her head as she heard heavy footsteps from behind her, people didn't usually come down to this part of town, but she had forgotten. Forgotten the trouble that shadowed her days out, the devil incarnates born into two bodies of two twenty year old boys. "There you are. You should not have gone out today Princess." The first boy, the skinniest of the two commented, his voice booming over her. Violet gripped hold of the metal chinks that held the swing in place, pulling herself up as she edged behind it ready to move away. "Come now Princess, you won't be denying your princes a chance to play with you again today now will you?" The man chided her, his accomplice grinned with his greedy eyes staring at her body. She knew what they wanted, she had felt the rough unwanted hands grip her like a vice rubbing, stroking breathing down her neck. Violet could do nothing against the two men but each time a kind police officer had been on patrol and helped her, God looked after her. The two men stepped forward, in return Violet pressed herself as far against the metal frame of the swings as she could trembling slightly as her vision tunnelled, the voices fading into a low drone. "She's pretty, can I get first touches before that police officer shows up?" The man known as Orc commented, he was a huge muscular fellow with a buzz cut for a hair style. He lapped his tongue across his lips more over greed for his own lust than to suffice a parched dryness to his cracked skin. Hands began pulling at Violets clothing, cold fingers tracing the inside of her forearms from elbows to wrist, the inner part of her thigh attempting to ease her legs open. But Violet remained rigid hugging her waist as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, a wavering hum of a hymn escaping her lips as she tried to forget what was happening. Something slid down over her lower back, the heaviness reaching to her hips, shrill, excited, more hands, on her throat, sliding down her sides, over her breasts. Hungry, searching, lifting fabric, shifting. Hot rancid sweet breath seeped over her skin as she squirmed to edge away.
"Excuse me Gentlemen, sorry to intrude but I must say with as little respect as I can possible conjure. What the fuck.. are you doing?" A strong R.P. English accent, low and yet soft chimed through the dark trial. "Shut up. The fuck this has to do with you mate? We're having fun now fuck off before I cut you through." The tall man grabbed an army knife from his jumper pocket and held the sharp tip towards the throat of the new comer. The hands of Orc continued to pull, pinch at her nipples under her dress, shifting to pull at her arms, legs wider. Sweaty palms rubbing at her thighs, she was too weak to pull away. Violet Schuster on that day had asked to die, prayed to be ripped in half before she was raped and her innocence stolen from her. She didn't think Orc had heard her, but suddenly she felt lifted, body flying into nothing. Her heart failing, she was falling. Faintly arms wrapped around her pressing her head against a warm chest with no heart beat, then there was running. Was she dead?
The air around them moved like soup. Dust everywhere as Violet pressed further against the man who carried her, though her head lulled like it was rock thick. "Please-.. I can't breathe." She managed to croak, her soft tone muffled by his chest. Finally the running stopped as she felt the return of gravity as she was placed on the ground, soft grass. Opening her eyes she looked around noting she was back at the fields near her monastery, words dragged themselves from Violets throat like nail to flesh "Who are you?" Just to the right of her blocking the evening sun stood one tall man, wide shoulders and long scrawny arms.
Fate.
Faith.
Seeds of Love.
Devante had never imagined he would come across two thugs picking on such a small delicate girl in broad daylight, there was a lot going wrong in Van ski since the rebellion. He had come to the town to obtain a book for his elder sister and was just heading to the kind nun who had agreed to give it to him when he had spotted the crime, not against some lore, morals, but against life itself. It had taken a lot of self control not to kill the two miserable creatures before him but the girl-. .the fragile petal was wavering enough. Could he really deliver the gust of wind to topple her off the edge? She was a beautiful young woman a few years younger than he was he guessed. She had long golden locks that sparkled in the light reminding him of a daisy at morn' when the dew drops decorated the petals. She had fragile glass blue eyes that could have been crystal clear, but not quite. Those eyes gazed up at him causing him to feel uncomfortable at the direct question. He was truly struck by her beauty and innocence that his words crammed in his throat, something that never normally occurred to him with women. He was a ladies' man and generally understood how to hear a ladies heart in just a few hours of talking to them, but he felt no desire to do so here. He just felt the sudden thud of his heart as if it had sky dived from a plane. The feeling was so alien to him he didn't understand it. Blinking, Dante noticed the girl waiting an answer as he forced a soft smile, pushing back his over-grown black bangs. "Devante-.. though I press you call me Dante." She nodded and introduced herself in return thanking him for his actions of saving her from the indecent thugs. Dante knew he had fallen in Love: He felt so intoxicated with affection, with friendship, and love, he couldn't bare the idea of parting from her.