INDEFINITE HIATUS

     someone else might have been scared at such a sudden appearance, but when Chris looked up at the woman who had just spoken her eyes were filled with calmness, as if the other’s presence did not bother her at all. Her lips curved in a smile and the leaves twirled in the air one last time before they fell on the ground again, defied by gravity once more. For the time being silence was all that was offered to the woman, as the girl waited for her to stay or walk away. She was curios to see whether FEAR or CURIOSITY was going to be the one to prevail.

    Blue eyes followed the motion of the leaves, expression somewhere between apathy and slight curiosity if only because no wind could be felt upon sun-kissed skin.  When the colorful objects rested upon the ground once more, Irena didn’t remove her gaze from them as if that what they were, were far more interesting than the youngster upon the bench. A twirl of the parasol, twisting behind her shoulder, casting various shadows upon her form as she turned slightly, facing the girl. Like ripples upon water did slowly expression turn into something much more inviting, though she did not move; opting to stay still instead of taking a seat upon the bench. If things would turn to be boring, she would easily be able to resume her walk. 

      what is the best thing to do when one is bored? But sitting on a bench and making dead leaves move in circles as if it was a windy day, of course.

@cruelvanity​.

      Was it at all surprising in the slightest to find the demoness had invited a beautiful maiden into their home with an extended arm and a press of plush lips to her knuckles? Surely not – one would have expected all the same that they instead tempt her into sinful acts between silk sheets in such a manner that would have surely brought her into their arms once more! With practiced grace did they twirl the taller being if only to bring her into their grasp, with arms around her waist as laughter burst forth from painted lips. “Irena, darling, it’s been far too long! I’d so terribly missed admiring beauty that dares compete with my own.” Words came at last with a blissful sigh, bringing their head to rest against her body. “You do know why I’ve asked that you come here once more, now don’t you? I admit there are some play toys I have remaining that I am sure you could find better use for than I have…”

        Thick lashes fluttered against high cheekbones, the corner of lips curling into a ghost of a smile, the red upon those tiers glossing lightly under the light. The Italian woman, tall & proud, with hair don up in the most intricate ways & dress so lavish and detailed had only one thing in her mind. The true reason of her visit was something NONE would expect, just like no one ever suspected her of doing the UNSPEAKABLE, though whispers would never stop. Yet when one had no proof, could they truly do anything to her? Laughter spilled forth, soft and melodic when supple lips graced her knuckles & once again her mirthful laugh could be heard when she was twirled, enjoying the attention. Enjoying that SHE was once more the center of attention. Irena allows one hand to rest upon Grace’ shoulder, the other lazily placed upon a round hip. “It has, has it not? I almost suspected you were done and gone for, how lovely that, that is not the case.” Words coming out in a drawl, voice soft but with that natural husky tone she possessed. “We do compliment each other well, no? It should be forbidden for us to meet, mhmm.” The noble-woman arched her back a tad to accommodate the other leaning on her , tilting head ever so lightly, dangling ear-rings feeling cool upon her skin. Once faint smile turned more prominent, though whichever warmth it possessed had long disappeared now that she was THIS close to what she wanted to do. Fingers itching to break, to destroy, to ruin.

@cruelvanity

HER GAZE FLICKERS OVER THE WOMAN only to stop on her cheeks . it was rare to see one with a brilliant smile that accompanies dimples cheeks , and rare things were often coveted . but not now, not for akane . she nodded, bottom lip twitching as she had to stop her own self from smiling along .

THOSE WHO’VE YET TRIED TO HIDE , as the other put it, weren’t worth akane’s time nor energy . you either hide or you don’t, and the woman in front of her is clearly not hiding . she’s in front of her curtain, and what lies behind it may ruin her or make her that much more closer to the QUEEN .

HER HEAD TILTS, AND IT’D BE QUITE the lie to say she wasn’t interested in what could lie behind . maybe she should cast down her worries and walk, figure something out . but vague answers and conversation may be a constant in this encounter .

HER OWN SMILE TICKLES EDGE of her lips and her head dips slightly in a small bow . akane finds herself holding onto nothing, thumbs hooked in her pocket but hands out , and her body following beside the other . ❛    mmh .    ❜ she debates if telling the other her name would hurt her in the future, but then again all akane is ( hopefully ) is a florist who’s very well off . but some people had connections, and they may or may not find something about her own life if they did . but what’s life without a little fear ?

❛     AKANE EDUCIS, AND THE PLEASURE’S MINE .    ❜ she looks up herself, a charming smile finally gracing red-stained lips . ❛    though it doesn’t have as nice of a ring as Irena .    ❜

      Thrilled she was and it showed itself by the slight widening of curved lips. Not hiding that particular feeling nor trying to seem as if she was but reserved. Behaving like a NOBLE woman she never did, when Irena laughed she did so without restraint, extravagant she could be, flamboyant and a tinge of drama to finish her personality. Though NEGATIVE emotions she never showed, at least not on her face nor body language. Always boiling inside her it was, the anger, the hate, it festered within hollow ribcage. Every breath she took only fueled the fire that only ever intensified throughout the years. 

       She had long reached a point where she’d forgotten how it felt like to NOT to be angry,not the feel that BURNING feeling at least lingering somewhere. Small bouts of ‘happiness’ always dissipating as soon as she got reminded of something, smile would tend to freeze upon sun-kissed skin & she would allow it to linger there till it felt natural again and moving on with her life she would. Happiness was but an illusion, fated not to become real and the brothel-owner was fine with that. She never did want what others sought out after all--warmth, happiness, love & to be cherished, useless it was (or not?).

      “Akane--”She repeated, tasting the foreign sounding name on serpent tongue, giving an almost unnoticeable nod of her head to acknowledge it. The woman’s surname tucked in the back of the noblewoman’s mind.  Moving her gaze away from her companion, Irena  led their walk, allowing the softest of laughter to escape red stained lips. “You are too kind, dear. Your name holds something of--grace as well. When spoken it holds an air of strength.”  Lifting a gloved hand she waved it in the air, motions of grace, as if that which she wanted to say was written in the space between them; unseen yet but felt nonetheless.

she could prove that she’s a shadow . just step into the darkness that brushes the outskirts of the garden and disappear . but that’s idiotic, and it make give the woman who’s so carefully watching her motive to look for her again , ask about beings who kill flowers with their blood and step into shadows . it’ll be better for both of them if the woman’s interest died down , but only Lord knows if that’ll happen .

❛     people who hide aren’t usually seen as interesting . it’s the ones in plain sight that should pique your interest .    ❜ there’s another hidden message, another riddle thrown into this conversation . 

hessonite orbs watch the taller’s movements and a smile itches the edge of akane’s lips . her question didn’t need to be answered now, considering the woman had much on her mind . 

the demoness’s fingers wrap around leather riding gloves and while the other’s distracted ,she pulls them out and pulls the gloves over her fingers . she was just getting done with lacing up the left hand when she was spoken to .

akane shifts her weight to the other foot and looks up . elegant , really . women  of this time moved so delicately and slow, as to not rip the fabrics of their clothing, and it was nice . for them, really . 

❛    you do seem quite busy . lost in your mind ,perhaps . i don’t think my company is what you need .    ❜ she turns on her heels to face the woman , ❛    but if you insist, i’d be glad to .    ❜

    And as easy as that, the smile widened a bit, corners of painted lips curving up, dimples becoming oh so very prominent upon sun-kissed skin. How very right the woman was, the ones who did not bother to HIDE, the ones who were there out in the open were the ones you should watch out for. Though in a sense it all came back to one thing. People could not be trusted, whether they hid behind masks or were there RIGHT in front of you, acting as if nothing was wrong with them. No one was to be trusted; only to be given the ILLUSION that you trusted them.     “Regardless of that. Those that want to hide--those that have not yet hidden, trying to appear as if they have nothing to hide, I will always make sure to give them that much more attention.” A quirk of her brow, purposely glancing down at where they petals USED to be before she settled bright gaze upon the woman. It truly did seem that they continued to give one another vague answers, keeping it light, as if they both knew of a secret that had yet to be shared. It was at most interesting to Irena. If one could keep her interested in a conversation, could give her that extra something that lacked in the conversations that most people had these days, then she was content with it.  A wave of a gloved hand, brushing away whichever polite worry the woman had. Company was something the noblewoman enjoyed lest they bored her of course, ah, such a pity that always was. And how BORING most people were, the many parties she always was invited to only justifying her distaste for those who were but bland figures, pretending to be more. There was no use for them, not alive nor dead yet--many had found themselves to be categorized as the latter. Even if her hands were free of any VISIBLE spilled blood, her soul was drenched within it. 

          At inquiry, they can’t help but let a gentle smile weave it’s way over their lips. All other times they would be inside, yes, but the outdoors with it’s pleasant weather had managed to ensnare them yet again. To be extremely devout to both creed & nature was a busy lifestyle; they thought it best that they try to balance their dedication & admiration fairly. They owed their life to both such things, after all! To show their gratitude to both seemed only proper. Fingers interlaced before their front kept hold to golden cross before letting it then slip so that it could dangle from intricate chain. ❛ I have this specific sermon memorized, truthfully. ❜  They admitted with a titter of laughter,  ❛ If I was inside, I’d surely interrupt by speaking ahead of where Father is. ❜  They’ve long since carved the words into their very soul, each gospel, sermon, prayer — it may have very well been engraved onto the surface of their bones.

          ❛ I don’t mind enjoying the outdoors, however. With Winter fast approaching, I suppose I’m taking in the last of the warmth before it seems to disappear altogether. I would offer for you to join me, but I don’t wish to hold you from doing what you need. ❜

        Dark brows were raised lightly, the expression she carried upon her face not one to be easily recognized. However it was soon replaced by one that seemed much more open, a tad bit more friendly as was easy for her. The other’s words reaching her ears and at some point it did got registered in her mind but it held no REAL meaning to her. This wouldn’t be the first time that she listened to another but didn’t really listen. It had nothing to do with other thoughts crossing her mind though, oh no, far from it. It is as stated before, it simply held no meaning to her. Though that did not stop her from reacting in a way that was to be expected, all mannerisms that were expected of a noblewoman weaved into her being. So easily were smiles pulled in certain situations, laughter produced and gestures made. Perhaps she was a bit TOO good at it, perhaps it was because of that, that she was NEVER suspected or at least the whispers never turned into ACTUAL words or actions. Or maybe it was because they feared they would be next, however the noblewoman couldn’t care less about that. What other’s thought of her NEVER an issue or bother to her. It was meaningless to her.

maybe it’s the loss of someone close that akane’s thoughts wander into the what-ifs . 

the curve of the other’s lips tells her something , but the spark of black deep within tell her that it’s too much . she was careless , placing the petals on the ground where they could wither and die in front of whoever caught sight of it . she should’ve hid them under her boot , crushing the decaying plant and keeping it from being seen . 

panic settles deep within demoness when the smirk turns to a smile . she wants to know of the dying plant life , she can see it . but what’s dead and or dying is DEAD . you shouldn’t question it, no matter the fact that something’s off . 

such a vibrant colour was her signature , hence her name . whether it be blood or the stain of red that decorates her lips , she looks good in it . hell , blood looks good on anything dead .

❛    cute ,    ❜ she replies . she caught the chuckle , she knows what the other’s thinking . it’s kind of expected , considering the woman stared at her for a while after looking at the plant .

her love for plant-life only just showed itself ; something about life and taking care of something seeming to capture the demon’s attention .

❛    innocent doesn’t even describe it , miss .   ❜ she shrugs , taking this movement to place her foot over the ashes of petals and sliding it, spreading them in the ground . 

❛    society’s standards don’t apply to me … i should be a shadow , but it looks like you’ve got good eyes .   ❜ her banter is playful , but it hides a meaning that not even she knows of, not yet .

         ❛     you  were just strolling the garden , right ? do you have a place to be ?    ❜

   Cornflower blue happily follows the women’s movements, at first lingering upon her face, lowering to BLOOD red lips, gliding on towards figure clothed in attire that had long captured her attention. A tilt of her head, the pole of the umbrella balanced on left shoulder while laced gloved hand occasionally turned the crooked handle before it was once more placed on the ground, tip upon the grass.  The smile upon her face didn’t falter, instead it continued to maintain it’s light curve; carmine surface catching the light of the sun, making it appear as if small little pearls adorned supple lines.       “So it seems. My eyes have long stopped noticing things that are only to be seen in the light, they often peer into the dark. One who thinks of themselves as a shadow--.” A pause, airy sigh passed parted lips. “They are noticed by me, whether I want it or not. Though often they interest me more than those that are to be seen in plain sight.” She too responds with a tune that is reminiscent of GOOD times, of playful jokes and light chatter but it seemed that the two of them spoke with words that held more layers than one, yet were unwilling to delve into WHAT those layers exactly were. Hidden by a veil that was too thick to be simply lifted and reveal all that was hidden.

     By now Irena’s attention was no longer upon the WITHERED petals nor the STAIN they now left on the ground. It was divided between the woman and what awaited her at her parental home (whom had asked her to come and visit for once; well her father asked her). The other’s question was heard but it seemed so distant especially when her own thoughts, for a moment, got stuck at what would happen when she would finally step into that house again, how she should respond when looking at her mother, who for a lack of a better word was TERRIFIED of her own daughter. She was used to it though, how her mother would FLINCH whenever Irena’s eyes would find her. Another sigh, a shake of her head, there was nothing to be done about that. She cared little for what her mother thought of her (and even if she never admitted it, she LOVED how that woman would tremble upon hearing her name & how she did everything in her power to AVOID her own daughter).