Velveteen visions cast themselves in wayward directions, feigning from the face of company. She continues her lead, deft and delicate hands casting touches upon the fitted frame of a precariously posed ocelot. Perfectly pouncing, a pirouette of life and death with bird so pitied in the crush of faux-jaws. Remarkable. ❝ I never understood you to be so forward in anything other than your lectures. ❞ A secret exchange, a passing from one flick under lash and her attention is once again turned to the daedal detailing of hide and hindsight. 

                                         ❝ I’m sorry to say you’ve heard of me, what little pleasure that might be. I encourage you                                                                                   to seek a heart another place, you will find no home in mine. ❞ 

i will be out the rest of the day. my apologies, i should have more time tomorrow morning to get settled in. in the mean time, feel free to drop and ask or perhaps IM me for more plotting. i will respond as quickly as i can manage. thank you.

please pardon the dust, this blog is still a work in progress. tags, bio, and verses to be updated today. please feel free to read my rules as they are already posted. thank you. 

                                                                                              You’re not a woman of convention or you wouldn’t be here, but you like to pretend you are so people don’t notice you. But then you think the men who look at you are fools, or worse, to be taken in by such obvious outward show. So instead, you’re drawn to dark, complicated, impossible men, assuring your own unhappiness and isolation because, after all, you’re happiest ALONE. But not even then, because you can’t stop thinking about what you’ve lost, again for which you blame yourself. So the cycle goes on, the snake eating it’s own tail.