| Subject: I hate the rain |
Author:
Wyrd
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Date Posted: 09/22/04 4:40:35pm Wed
Torrents of water struck the city, yet none felt it as keenly as Wyrd. His hypersenstivity to everything made every drop of rain feel like a shard of ice pelting off thick fur. The roar of the rain echoed in his ears, but was relatively unheard. It was filtered out, and the underlaying sounds were heard instead. Talk of the sudden rain, idle banter.
But there were thoughts echoing through the city. Treacherous thoughts. Thoughts of death, of rebellion, of upsurpation. A coup.
His eyes saw through the rain, past the sheets, seeing Forgotten that lingered in the rain before retreating into houses and inns and shops.
It continued for hours.
It didn't bother Wyrd. Red and gold eyes broke through the depths of water, through the sheets, and through buildings, through mortar and wood and stone. They bored through cloth and flesh and bone. They saw souls, and they saw spirits and energies.
Gold honed onto souls.
Red honed on sin.
One soul stood out. A soul lined with red, blurring into pinks and purples. Another soul caught his eye as well, but this soul had no distinct shape or outline. It was only more an undulating, wispy black substance.
Wyrd's nose wrinked and he shifted his attention from it, a coiling ebb of fear settling in his chest. That was a force in really no way, shape, or form that he could contend with, as far as he knew.
But the other one, blurs between red, violet and pink. How interesting. He walked, walked until he found it, and stopped in front of it, seeing as should be seen. Through the rain, just a hazy wall of white, and both crimson and gold rested on opposite crimson eyes, and just stared through the rain.
Purple was of the mind and he had the same kind of power.
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