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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2015 18:39:02 GMT
Your bite's worse than your My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at the funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, should of worshipped her sooner. If the heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak, fresh poison each week. We were born sick, you heard them say it. My church offers no absolutes, she tells me to worship in the bedroom. The only heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you. I was born sick, but I love it. Command me to be well. Amen, amen, amen, amen. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life.
Hadn't some historically recognised, prestigious prick once stated to give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach him to fish and he'll eat for he rest of his life? Well, couldn't that also be placed on terms of fire, of flame? After all, if one was to build a man a fire, he would be warm for the night, however, set a man alight, and he'll be warm for the remainder of his life. Now, with Nikolai obviously being recognised as the sympathetic man he was, he very much took that saying to heart, and did the world an apparent favour by torching the occasional asshole off the face of the planet. A destructive version of community service, as he liked to call it. No matter how much he believed such a fact, it was natural for him to have contemplated the idea of death more than once. The thing that struck him about the prospect of death was that it was so terribly final, whilst life was so full of possibilities. Hence, when his death was to come, he fully intended for him to deserve it; for there to be some sort of meaning, justification, behind his demise. He didn't fear it, no, not in the slightest, for those who fear death are the ones with regret. And he didn't regret a single thing, not anymore.
To be perfectly honest, there were likely a good number of things that a bath couldn't cure; fears, regrets, depression, anxiety... But he wasn't one to recognise many of them. Frame submerged within the scolding liquid that, by all means would be considered far too warm for any sane being to even set foot in, his skull had long since tipped back, darkly toned irises surveying the thick rising steam. The subtle burn meandering about his frame was pleasurable, to say the least; it came as a perk of being a manipulator that he was able to withstand the heat. He believed it was customary to get one's washing over first in baths and bask afterwards; personally, he basked first. He had discovered that the first few minutes are the best and not to be wasted; his brain always seethed with ideas and life suddenly appears much better than it did prior. So he basked first, washed second. The last stage of a bath, when the water is cooling and there is nothing to look forward to, could be fairly disillusioning. Either way, he certainly always looked to things, however insignificant, in great detail, whatever the aspects may be.
His dark irises faltered downwards towards his hand, which had lifted from the scolding water, and while most's limbs would've burnt a deep scarlet, his remained the natural shade, as previously mentioned, able to withstand the heat. He studied the skin for a moment, before allowing a flame to conjure within his palm, scrolling his gaze across that with equal unhindered interest. Whoever once said that the fire one kindles often burns oneself more than the enemy obviously had never met a manipulator of Nikolai's element, or so it seemed. To some, beautiful could mean a field with flowers, birds, trees, green grass and clean sky, though to others, beautiful is akin only to destruction; fire, guns, dusty view and a grey sky. He was undoubtedly one for the latter. However, he soon came to acknowledge the fact that there was supposed to be a woman arriving at some point, for they had arranged the sale of one of his many Dobermans. Which, they had yet to figure, and, hey, it brought him in a little extra money, so he was all for it. As such, he forced himself upright and out of said bath, the scolding water rolling in droplets down his skin, and trudged back into the bedroom, beginning to get at least ready for her arrival, ignoring the scuttling of tiny pawsteps as the current youngest of his Dobermans, Nytocris, scurried into the bedroom after him; whilst she was anything but the youngest on the premisis, he planned her to be the latest he was keeping. Anyways, did he need a shirt? Probably, yes. Damn
If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. To keep the Goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice. Drain the whole sea, get something shiny. Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine-looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful. That looks tasty. That looks plenty. This is hungry work. Amen, amen, amen, amen. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life.
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Dallas Ariana Petrov
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we could set the world ablaze
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Post by Dallas Ariana Petrov on Apr 6, 2015 15:42:16 GMT
 ### words for @ notes: bluh, here it is again DALLAS ARIANA PETROV A 'shrink' somewhere could probably contribute her growing collection of 'hellhounds' to a lack of deep rooted social connections, but who listened to them, anyways? A bed was lonely without some sort of heartbeat, that much she'd admit, though her slender dogs seemed to suit her just fine. She wouldn't go so far as to say that the animals were a weakness, but given that they were one of the few connections she had to her long forgotten normalcy, they were close. At least that was the original idea behind it, since it had progressed into a love of the breed in general. With that being said there wouldn't be much of a surprise that she soon found herself wishing for another pet.
Ironic that a woman such as her would strive for a good temperament in a dog above all else. A trainable animal was a useful one, after all, and it would be a damn shame if it so chose to bite the hand that fed it. This was similar to the way she picked her employees in fact, excusing the bartenders (because lets face it, who would want a boring bartender?). The right amount of spunk and obedience was difficult to come by but when it did she kept notice. The so called 'kennel' that lingered on her mind seemed to be a reasonable fit for what she was looking for; the dogs all house-kept and socialized, in other words, being fairly easy to take on as her own. All of the glory but none of the work, precisely her style.
In relatively normal attire this day (as opposed to the somewhat suggestive dresses she frequently wore) she slid into her sleek luxury vehicle and smoothed a hand over said clothing, a button down blouse and denim shorts, after all, not expecting much to happen at a supposed kennel. The chances of it being a retired old fart as opposed to a nice looking male were great, therefore she wouldn't find any particular need to go to any extra measures. Somehow she managed to look her usual elegant self even still. As if confirming this thought the brunette admired herself in the rear view mirror, taking a moment to fix her makeup, before setting off towards the home that held her new Doberman.
The mansion wasn't located too far from her own 'quaint' home, upon surveying the expanse of land it laid on she couldn't help but grow a bit envious. Silent, out of prying eyes, and more importantly, children. The awful spawn of the human race that never really did anything productive besides grow up and ruin a womans body beyond repair. In theory Dallas could afford a similar home, but was it even really necessary? Yes, yes it was. She found herself admiring said home as she pulled up into the driveway. This is where the average woman would feel that gut instinct to turn around and head the other way...but Dallas wasn't the average woman, now was she?
Fearing for her life was out of the question and she could very well fend for herself in most circumstances, usually being clever enough to get out of trouble, therefore the basic human instinct to 'avoid the creepy rich mans house' didn't seem to reach her mind. She was positive she could handle whatever happened, and if unable to with her clever mind and abilities then she deserved to be taken advantage of. Rising from her car Dallas settled her sunglasses onto the top of her head in order to study the building from a closer distance. The owner seemed to be of good taste, dobermans and luxuries. She squinted, perhaps reevaluating her decision to be of casual dress, before moving onward. Money meant power and power drew her in like moth to a flame. Being the ambitious woman she was she found the allure of a higher status enough to cause her to linger. A pleasant thought, a dog and a meal. A smirk twitched at the corner of her lip as she rapped her knuckles along the heavy door.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2015 18:11:18 GMT
Your bite's worse than your My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at the funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, should of worshipped her sooner. If the heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak, fresh poison each week. We were born sick, you heard them say it. My church offers no absolutes, she tells me to worship in the bedroom. The only heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you. I was born sick, but I love it. Command me to be well. Amen, amen, amen, amen. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life.
Throughout daily life, he was one to keep the flame within alive, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. He would never allow for his goals to perish in lonely frustration for the life of which he had never been able to reach. The world he desired could be won. It was real, it was possible; his stubborn pride refused to allow him to believe otherwise. The natural flights of the human mind were not purely from pleasure to pleasure, though instead from hope to hope, people so full of unshaped dreams, laden with the faint traces of beginnings afar. There was hope within them. Hope saw the invisible, felt the tangible, and achieved the impossible, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of broken dreams. However, in reality, hope was the worst of all evils due to the fact that it prolonged a man's dreams and torments alike. He had no hope, no, he simply wielded determination. Lust. Need. It provided him something to drive towards, to search for. Little did he know that he was closer to his desires than he had thought.
Darkly toned irises surveyed his clothing choices with a quietened snort portraying no particular emotion, brown orbs casually falling upon various outfit options as if each was quotidian. Clothing styles were somewhat repetitive through his eyes, in other words jejune, hence he barely took much consideration into it aside from a brief glance; clothing was not what made the man, nor any, after all. He held a certain preference to the more formal ranges of attire, though considering the situation, he selected something a little more... Casual. The skittering of the red and tan pup about the room fell upon deaf ears, or rather, he chose to ignore her overexcited squeals. She grew frustrating, no doubt, hushed with the traces of a glare slipping onto his facials. His intense gaze faltered, however, upon the knocking that was emitted from the rapping of knuckles along the door. With a faintly inquisitive luster settling itself within his dark irises, the man briefly hesitated, before moving swiftly out of the room and proceeding to ascend the large staircase.
A light snort of bemusement was provided upon the sight of the largest of his dobermans, Devereaux, the dark canid having situated himself beside the door, a lightened growl rumbling through the depths of his throat. A glance of acknowledgement dismissed the large male, the man's hand extending to open the door, his eyes taking in the sights, meeting her with something between a smirk and a grin. Still, his irises briefly traced her form in a subtle scrutiny, surveying her promptly. She was, well, beautiful, as was anticipated for a woman of her tastes. But, she held a beauty akin to that held within a forest fire; she seemed something better admired from a distance. Yet, he was fully willing to play with the fire, whether he was to get burned or not. "Greetings, miss... Dallas, I believe?" he met her gaze promptly, grin broadening slightly, "you'll have to forgive the attire. Rather last minute." The eyes of the largest Doberman lay upon the woman from the couch, irises boring into her skull, though it faltered upon the arrival of the red and tan puppy scurrying down the staircase and taking towards the door, her curious skull nudging it's way around the man's legs to jump up at the woman's legs, prompting a light chuckle from the man. "Nytocris, where are your manners?" With that, the pup shrunk back onto her haunches at the woman's feet, though still staring expectantly up at her. "I trust you'd like to come in?" The man moved to the side to enable the woman room to enter, though his gaze fell upon the fireplace, discomfortingly littered with ashes as a pose to the flame. Instinctively, he moved towards it, and upon conjuring a flame within his palm, he allowed it to ignite the charred would once again, a satisfied grunt leaving him, studying the flames for a moment or two, before rising once again.
If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. To keep the Goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice. Drain the whole sea, get something shiny. Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine-looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful. That looks tasty. That looks plenty. This is hungry work. Amen, amen, amen, amen. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life. Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins, so you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, said good god, let me give you my life.
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Dallas Ariana Petrov
Demon
we could set the world ablaze
Posts: 91
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Post by Dallas Ariana Petrov on Apr 9, 2015 20:55:16 GMT
720 words for @nikolaipetrov notes: DALLAS ARIANA PETROV Good things came in time, at least that's what she'd come to believe. She was nothing if not sure of that fact, her lifestyle and less-than-willing playthings had proven it. What was a good 'predator' without the ability to wait? She was not normally opposed to doing so for as long as it took to get her way. An hour, week, a year, time would not make a difference in the scheme of things; she normally got what she wanted regardless. And at this moment what lingered behind those mansion walls seemed to be of particular interest.
The woman lingered on the doorstep with a well developed patience, squinting as an observant gaze swept over the home. One could probably see the gears turning in that skull of hers, naturally her idle mind making way to mischief. Where the average human saw an overpriced dwelling she saw potential in many forms; Nero would look good sprawled out on the well-maintained lawn, would he not? Dark irises flicked back to examine the landscaping briefly, a smirk touching at her lips, but was quickly interrupted (probably to the benefit of all involved) by the shift of the door in front of her.
Her attention reverted forwards and she was rather pleased (and surprised) at what met her eye, a handsome face with a gaze familiar to that of her own. Further examination of the form would start up a cool flutter of excitement beneath naturally tanned skin. The sight was not unlike that of peering in a mirror, the subtle similarities they shared even at first glance were not something that could go unnoticed, however it would be of little concern. Any potential she held in mind for the man and his elaborate home had doubled in an instant, her devious brain springing off into rapid thought. An ironically pleasant smile was returned to his greeting, she had yet to judge the man in his true form and would therefore proceed in a more.. normal fashion.
She dipped her head in light acknowledgement, her smile fading to that of a more characteristic, nearly smug expression. "That's right." She stated, jaws parted to continue her speech though her focus was soon redirected to a blur of movement by their feet. Some form of amusement danced in her eyes as she crouched to greet the red pup that eagerly sought her attention. She was not all that fond of the young but behind a playful pup there was an obedient adult, that much she knew. She she drug a gentle thumb over the animals head, muttering an, "Hello there, Nytocris.". Her look took on one of scrutiny as she now lifted the dogs chin with a manicured fingernail in order to further search her features; most likely searching for any faults. If she was going to associate herself with the man and his dobermans she needed to see the product. Several moments however she gave the puppy a thorough scratch before rising with a flash of teeth. "Beautiful animal."
As the man moved aside she took the opportunity to venture into the home, briefly casting a glance his form as she did so. She was not there for the purpose that crossed her mind but that didn't mean she couldn't consider it. "Hmmm, Nikolai, you have quite a taste." She surveyed the home curiously as she strode in, initially taking more interest in the furnishings than the animals. The situation in it's entirety was satisfying. Her study of the home paused as she noticed him moving towards the fireplace, an eyebrow arching in question. It was the start to summer, surely it was unnecessary, but all things considered half the things she did were unnecessary. A fire lit in her just about the moment he lit his, an internal buzz hovering somewhere between an excitement and fascination. There was something she admired about a fire manipulator, something about the prospect of provoking a temper that was just too damn fun to let lie. But for now she'd remain civil, she'd have to be in order to get what she came there for. She studied the man from afar, eventually sitting on couch's armrest and crossing a leg over the other. "I do have to say, I'm a bit impressed."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2015 23:32:05 GMT
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