even a n g e l s fall;; {Darks?}

[Engelsfors]

Engelsfors on tarnished golden wings Polished golden penny ears turn upon sixpences, listening, absorbing every little word that the coloured lady spins. She is like a seamstress, her voice tranquil like the lapping waves of a lake against reeds. Straia has an air about her that reminds me of my own mother; rest her soul in her stubborn little place. It was gracefulness with a sense of authority, and she wore it well, like a regal crown, yet slightly tipped upon a working head. I listen, I keep a keen eye contact with my sapphire eyes. they watch all, they notice things. She gathers her thoughts, a little memory here, a little recollection there. A crooked little smile, velvet and silk upon my pale lips. 'You have a grace about you, Straia. I've seen it before... It is charming authority. You hold it well.' my tone is crisp, like early morning hazy breath in winter, the first cold dew on the grass in autumn. I am charming and a lithe model of everything that would be considered perfect, but inside, inside I may as well be rotten to the core. I keep my masks on permanently, ever-changing to match the mood for the day. But whereas my facades alter, my utmost respect, my manners are ones that stay like a beauty mark, always there, never leaving. 'The Chamber... it sounds like it could be torment for some but paradise for others.' My words they are spiderwebs, catching the air of a sensitive joke. I smile again, broader, charming. I flick my ghostly tail across my hocks, gliding against my flanks to ward off pesky flies. The summer heat was still clay against my skin, still wearing at my muscles, my young bones. I listen, I catch every little word, every little movement in her jaw, as though transfixed. If I was after a family, I would have never left home. Families, they are a be all or an end all. Most often they are an end all. They say blood is thicker than water, yet water is fluid, and blood can clot. I've seen that myself. 'I would say there is a touch of evil in everyone. As much as many wouldn't care to admit.' smooth like satin, a little course like black velvet. I dip my head, a little chuckle, 'What I wish for, Straia, is not a family, not loving arms, but a job to do. I left home because I became... stale. There is more to life than sitting and looking pretty.' I tilt my head a little to the right, casting my forelock across my face like a golden veil, concealing my right eye. hiding secrets long kept hidden, hiding the masquerades beneath a charming smile and glittering words. 'The Chamber sounds quite fitting. For now.' my shoulders are weary as they shift a touch to the left, my hooves splintering from the journey, they lift and are placed down in a procession of awkward beats. I was not being picky, I needed a place to rest, and I needed something a little more than a field full of prying eyes and interloping ears. I also needed a job to do. For a mind like mine, always ticking, always turning, if it were to just stop... I dread to think what might happen. My words are true, genuine to the very end. I am hard working, much to the deciding eye. My lips smile in a debonair fashion, my gossamer mane falling in spun gold rivulets down my neck as i extend it out, a little inclination to the coloured lady. 'There is no time like the present, I am young, impressionably so. The Chamber sounds like it is exactly what I am looking for.' even the angels start to fall