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Subject: ...figure... Author: ... [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 17:05:52 09/29/02 Sun The lone flute continued its melancholy song. The sound continuing endlessly as if it was frozen in the elastic and repeating membrane of time, each sullen note played expertly and without a moment’s hesitation. It grew ever increasingly sullen and low pitch almost as if the endless tune was drawing to a close. Masterful fingers slipped over the instrument, closing an opening, sliding away to let it open, an endless stream of sound ushering from the simple flute. The dexterous fingers easily making their way across the instrument, black fingernails glinting almost like polished onyx’s. The Forgotten were in range now…the player could feel their presence, a small wave of nausea slipping over his form even as they drew closer. The song stopped abruptly as they came within range of sight…. A lone figure dressed in loose clothing. A long white shirt with gold stitching in the sleeves and around the neck, baggy pale blue pants and white boots. A mane of shimmering onyx hair draping over his shoulders and onto his back where two bladed wings sprouted folding half way around his body. The clothes seemed archaic…ancient, looking about 1,000 years old, and yet still in perfect condition. Corpses of creatures adorned the ground around him, each creature bearing a face of perfect serenity in the eternal sleep of death. It was grotesque and yet sublime. All the creatures faces were pointed at the figure even as he slowly lifted his head from his instrument. Slowly the eyes slipped upwards looking towards the approaching pair a sardonic smirk on its face. Still despite the oddity and the complete confusion that would radiate from the scene…nothing would capture their attention more than the figures eyes. Piercing ice-blue intense to the point of hypnosis. Even as eye contact was made they shifted slowly crimson bleeding into the blue shifting them in a slow deliberate manner to a pale violate. The smirk remained on his face even as they would be paralyzed in confusion…and he was gone. No trace was left only the continuing echoes of the melancholy tune…. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

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Subject Author Date o yeah... stan 18:13:44 09/29/02 Sun