02-07-2022, 10:44 PM
open hand or closed fist would be fine
--rosemary
the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
Her parents' quiet lives never seemed to suit Rosemary. She remembers moments of pure, dark grandeur, beneath the gazes of dark beings terribly and excitedly unknown to her. Blame her father’s shadows or the chaos that runs down her mother’s bloodline, Rose has never been a creature drawn to the light.
For years, the gemstone woman bided her time. Not necessarily content to remain pampered and comfortable within her family’s loving circle, she offered saccharine smiles and easy, brusque answers to all the leading questions she was faced with. She hardly left home for she was too bored and once she did, she knew she would hardly desire to return. Adventuring as a girl was enough to keep Rose sated, but it was always a matter of time before the shadows around her heart grew so restrictive that she could hardly breath.
A kiss to her father’s cheek and warm hug with her mother was her goodbye. The pair seemed confused by their daughter’s sudden affection, but neither were terribly suspicious. Years of monotony had dulled their senses to devious intentions. Rosemary knew she would not be returning until she had been sated—or if she would be returning at all.
Though it would seem that outside of her family’s lovely sphere, there was hardly a thing to stir within Beqanna. Rosemary kept her ears pricked toward all the subtlest of whisperings; and yet, nothing as sweet as her father’s Hyaline plums was able to draw her attention.
It’s boredom she faces once again.
And excitement that finds her once Rose feels as if it’s too unbearable and happy family life would be better than this.
Obscene is as handsome as Molech, as darkly lovely as all the shadows she pursued in the past. The aquamarine of her eyes glitters curiously, then elatedly, then mischievously. Despite being splayed across the ground like a newborn, Rose is immediately interested in the once-prince.
“Are you having fun or swallowing your misery?” Rosemary purrs, tilting her head curiously. “Smells like nectar, though I don’t know that I’ve never indulged . . . Perhaps I should imbibe to quell all the restlessness inside of me,” she adds, almost like an afterthought, long lashes fluttering in rapid blinks.
For years, the gemstone woman bided her time. Not necessarily content to remain pampered and comfortable within her family’s loving circle, she offered saccharine smiles and easy, brusque answers to all the leading questions she was faced with. She hardly left home for she was too bored and once she did, she knew she would hardly desire to return. Adventuring as a girl was enough to keep Rose sated, but it was always a matter of time before the shadows around her heart grew so restrictive that she could hardly breath.
A kiss to her father’s cheek and warm hug with her mother was her goodbye. The pair seemed confused by their daughter’s sudden affection, but neither were terribly suspicious. Years of monotony had dulled their senses to devious intentions. Rosemary knew she would not be returning until she had been sated—or if she would be returning at all.
Though it would seem that outside of her family’s lovely sphere, there was hardly a thing to stir within Beqanna. Rosemary kept her ears pricked toward all the subtlest of whisperings; and yet, nothing as sweet as her father’s Hyaline plums was able to draw her attention.
It’s boredom she faces once again.
And excitement that finds her once Rose feels as if it’s too unbearable and happy family life would be better than this.
Obscene is as handsome as Molech, as darkly lovely as all the shadows she pursued in the past. The aquamarine of her eyes glitters curiously, then elatedly, then mischievously. Despite being splayed across the ground like a newborn, Rose is immediately interested in the once-prince.
“Are you having fun or swallowing your misery?” Rosemary purrs, tilting her head curiously. “Smells like nectar, though I don’t know that I’ve never indulged . . . Perhaps I should imbibe to quell all the restlessness inside of me,” she adds, almost like an afterthought, long lashes fluttering in rapid blinks.
@Obscene