Thrash Palace
White MarbleThe voluptuous woman is a pillar of white marble. She clutches her father's cold, callused palm as they walk in unison towards me. Soft music rings in my ears as the crisp autumn air runs it's fingers along the back of my neck. Time is in no rush and I, today, am patient.White Marble
White is definitely in her favour. Her pale skin shines, vibrant and warming in the descending sunset. Her shoes are hidden beneath a flowing gown, accentuating seamless curves and drawing a trail of snow behind her. She appears to be dreamlike, completely fictional. However to my great pleasure, it is not the case. Flashing a delightful smile my way I cannot s
LycanthropeMasked by the shadows an enervated man was barely discernible. Bland, yellow eyes etched into their sockets, darted around the dimly lit underpass. They drowned in anxiety trying to grasp sight of any movement. His scrawny arm rose and a vivid scar was visible. The mark trailed from his decrepit shoulder to the worn, cut palm of his hand. As he ran his scathing fingers through filthy hair, jagged fingernails grinded against his scalp. Ominous rings circled his hollow, sunken eyes. Profuse amounts of hair enveloped his drained face, protecting deep gashes and wounds. Massive eyebrows sat about narrow cheekbones. As the ashes of the candle settLycanthrope
check out my new account and have a masty ;]
~sailorsgrave
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