Post by Ninette De La Magnifique on Feb 9, 2008 22:01:05 GMT 8
Enola Reverof: Ah, how he loved these beautiful sunny days. Most would assume that a creature of shadow would despise the sun, but then again, most are not intelligent enough to know that the sun is what creates a shadow to begin with. So he felt as all creatures do about thier creator, that he should be thankful for his existance by worshiping the beauty of the creator. It was here in this field that he chose to worship his creator as his form seemed a plague upon the beauty and elegance of nature. His hair fell to sheild his face from the lethal rays of his duel natured god. His curse was so that he knew his creation would also be his death. Strands like liquid tar that seemed to sway in a wind that did <c1>
Enola Reverof: not blow, or to simply move of thier own accord to cover an area whenever it seemed one might finally catch a glimpse at the features of this mysterious visitor. Never did they allow the sight of his features except for his eyes. Oceans of blood that simply floated in the sockets of where his eyes once were, before he had torn them out in an attempt to remove his humanity. However, it was never these oceans that caught the attention of the one that caught a glimpse at them, but rather the very pupils of these unusual eyes. Flames burned in the center of these oceans that seemed to be the very flames of Hell itself, as if a glance could reveal to a mortal what awaited him after death. <c2>
Enola Reverof: Illuminating only slightly the rest of his face, these unusual eyes gave him only one thing... blindness. When he removed his sight from his flesh, he had forced himself to leatn to see through the use of shadows. Always, they whispered to him from all around about where he was and who awaited his presence. Never did one truly understand how well he could see until they had witnessed the beauty of his self-inflicted curse. A curse hidden with the rest of his essence by those straight strands of darkness that fell to the middle of his most recognizable garb. The leather appearing trenchcoat that flowed around his body like a satin sheet that drifted around with every movement of the body, <c3>
Enola Reverof: yet resembled the impenetrable darkness of a coffin buried so far beneath the earth from which all mortal life stems. Drifting lazily only inches from the ground, there was nothing left of his features except the bottom of those boots which never seemed to impact whatever they stood upon. It was as if he were there, yet never truly walked upon the surfaces of what the mortal world deemed fragile. To the eyes, it seemed as if he did walk in this place as the grass disappeared beneath his boots and the dirt always seemed to be touched beneath, yet never were there any imprints left when he moved on nor a single blade of grass broken when he lifted his foot on briefly. So he was this <c4>
Enola Reverof: creature of eternal mystery enshrouded in the very essence of the things which defined him. So he walked this day through this field as he relished in the light of the day. It was when his foorsteps ceased and his stroll seemed over that one would feel the chills run down thier spine while he did naught but exist. His strolls were those of an apparition, while his unmoving existance gave him reality to the watching eye. Have you been discovered? Without turning to you, his voice shattered the serenity of this beautiful field as the sound of it alone brought to mind the screams of a thousand children and the last breath of men who knew death as a release from the hell they had <c5>
Enola Reverof: witnessed. A whisper that could only beg to be released into your mind to carry with it images of nightmares and horror. A voice not of a single entity, but spoken through the voices of a thousand men, women, and children who were all bound to him through thier eternal suffering. "This field is too bland for my tastes." His words were simple, yet behind such words screamed those voices of men who begged for release and children who cried out for help. In the midst of all of these whispers within his words, his right arm slowly drew back to pull his hand from the pocket of his trenchcoat. As the flesh hit the sunlight of the day, it burnt to ash and cracked open everywhere. Black as onyx, <c6>
Enola Reverof: the flesh seemed to flake away in peices while he lifted the hand clean from the pocket and let the sharpened fingernails drop towards the ground. A sarcastic smirk twisted the edge of his lips as his fingers curled slightly as if grabbing some unseen force. With clenched teeth and great force, he began to raise his hand slowly upward with his hands still clenching some unseen weight that even he had trouble lifting. As the flakes of burnt flesh fell with each strained movement, the ground around him began to shake violently in every direction. It wasn't long before the soil split open and roots seemed to materialize around him. They worked thier way out from him in a wave as they covered <c7>
Enola Reverof: the earth like a blanket of white serpents colliding with each other in thier eagerness to claim a place of thier own. As his hand came almost even to his elbow, his form openly relaxed while he turned to investigate his work in this field. Rose bushes had sprouted everywhere around this field and seemed to span as far as the eye could see. Vines trailed between the roses and choked the life from all else in sight. Letting the remains of his hand slide back into his pocket, he stood there as if he had never moved and waited.... waited for the one behind him to step out from behind that tree and announce herself. "It looks better now. Do you like my garden, m'lady?" <e8>
Enola Reverof: not blow, or to simply move of thier own accord to cover an area whenever it seemed one might finally catch a glimpse at the features of this mysterious visitor. Never did they allow the sight of his features except for his eyes. Oceans of blood that simply floated in the sockets of where his eyes once were, before he had torn them out in an attempt to remove his humanity. However, it was never these oceans that caught the attention of the one that caught a glimpse at them, but rather the very pupils of these unusual eyes. Flames burned in the center of these oceans that seemed to be the very flames of Hell itself, as if a glance could reveal to a mortal what awaited him after death. <c2>
Enola Reverof: Illuminating only slightly the rest of his face, these unusual eyes gave him only one thing... blindness. When he removed his sight from his flesh, he had forced himself to leatn to see through the use of shadows. Always, they whispered to him from all around about where he was and who awaited his presence. Never did one truly understand how well he could see until they had witnessed the beauty of his self-inflicted curse. A curse hidden with the rest of his essence by those straight strands of darkness that fell to the middle of his most recognizable garb. The leather appearing trenchcoat that flowed around his body like a satin sheet that drifted around with every movement of the body, <c3>
Enola Reverof: yet resembled the impenetrable darkness of a coffin buried so far beneath the earth from which all mortal life stems. Drifting lazily only inches from the ground, there was nothing left of his features except the bottom of those boots which never seemed to impact whatever they stood upon. It was as if he were there, yet never truly walked upon the surfaces of what the mortal world deemed fragile. To the eyes, it seemed as if he did walk in this place as the grass disappeared beneath his boots and the dirt always seemed to be touched beneath, yet never were there any imprints left when he moved on nor a single blade of grass broken when he lifted his foot on briefly. So he was this <c4>
Enola Reverof: creature of eternal mystery enshrouded in the very essence of the things which defined him. So he walked this day through this field as he relished in the light of the day. It was when his foorsteps ceased and his stroll seemed over that one would feel the chills run down thier spine while he did naught but exist. His strolls were those of an apparition, while his unmoving existance gave him reality to the watching eye. Have you been discovered? Without turning to you, his voice shattered the serenity of this beautiful field as the sound of it alone brought to mind the screams of a thousand children and the last breath of men who knew death as a release from the hell they had <c5>
Enola Reverof: witnessed. A whisper that could only beg to be released into your mind to carry with it images of nightmares and horror. A voice not of a single entity, but spoken through the voices of a thousand men, women, and children who were all bound to him through thier eternal suffering. "This field is too bland for my tastes." His words were simple, yet behind such words screamed those voices of men who begged for release and children who cried out for help. In the midst of all of these whispers within his words, his right arm slowly drew back to pull his hand from the pocket of his trenchcoat. As the flesh hit the sunlight of the day, it burnt to ash and cracked open everywhere. Black as onyx, <c6>
Enola Reverof: the flesh seemed to flake away in peices while he lifted the hand clean from the pocket and let the sharpened fingernails drop towards the ground. A sarcastic smirk twisted the edge of his lips as his fingers curled slightly as if grabbing some unseen force. With clenched teeth and great force, he began to raise his hand slowly upward with his hands still clenching some unseen weight that even he had trouble lifting. As the flakes of burnt flesh fell with each strained movement, the ground around him began to shake violently in every direction. It wasn't long before the soil split open and roots seemed to materialize around him. They worked thier way out from him in a wave as they covered <c7>
Enola Reverof: the earth like a blanket of white serpents colliding with each other in thier eagerness to claim a place of thier own. As his hand came almost even to his elbow, his form openly relaxed while he turned to investigate his work in this field. Rose bushes had sprouted everywhere around this field and seemed to span as far as the eye could see. Vines trailed between the roses and choked the life from all else in sight. Letting the remains of his hand slide back into his pocket, he stood there as if he had never moved and waited.... waited for the one behind him to step out from behind that tree and announce herself. "It looks better now. Do you like my garden, m'lady?" <e8>