Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake. Henry David Thoreau
The pair of Truebloods on guard duty were joking with each other when the wards signaled that someone was approaching. One of them ducked back into the guardhouse for a moment. " It's a Blood" he said as he stepped back out. They both turned to look out towards the street past the gates." Is that...?" one said in a lowered voice. All hint of mirth gone from the both as the other nodded. They both hurried to open the gates before ducking back inside the guard house and closing the door behind them.
The rain had stopped at some point during her walk from the inn to Onyx House. The DreamWitch dragged a hand through her wet hair and then took another swig from the bottle as she neared. She could sense their fear as she came up to the open gate. But it was the sound in the silent night of the bolt being snuck into a slide to lock the door from within that had obsidian gaze turning towards the guard house. Fingers tightened about the bottle in her hand as she lifted her arm. She hurled the bottle with all her might at the door. The bottle exploded into tiny bits as it hit the door. The thick Chartreuse fanning a splash before it slowly began to run down the door. The DreamWitch stalked up to the house.
The great door of the house swung open as she neared as it was enchanted to do. She strode across the pristine marble floor leaving a trail of muddied bootprints in her wake.The guards must have called ahead because the doors to the sitting room were closed. She could see the shadows of boots where a little light tried to leak through under the door. She heard their soft whispering stop as she passed. Unfortunately she didn't have anything to throw at this door so she continued to the stairs to go up to her room.
She slammed the door behind her as she stepped into her room. The decoration was rich in dark shades of reds and black, a few highlights of silver. But there was nothing personal in the decorations. Melantha had let Sun decorate the room when they first arrived and it had stayed the same ever since. She moved through the room into the bathroom. Candles flickered to flame as she entered, casting a soft dancing light across the fine black marble. Veins of silver that ran through the marble glittered golden in the candle light. The house imp had already started the water flowing into the oversized tub. Steam was rising as she neared. She took the lid off of a container on the side of the tub and shook some of the bath salts within into the water. The subtle scents of elven spices rising with the steam. She turned away from the tub and shrugged out of her jacket and then started peeling off her wet clothes. Muddy boots and wet clothes left in a pile, she knew an imp would pop in and take them away to be cleaned. As she waited for the tub to finish filling she moved over to the basin and reached up to wipe the palm of her hand across the mirror to brush away the fog upon it. She stared at herself. She might get used to obsidian eyes staring back at her, if they stayed that way long enough, but what worried her more was the streaks of moisture across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the night's rain.
Steam slowly veiled the reflection away from her. She crossed back to the tub. Filled now, the taps were turned off and she slipped down into the fragrant warmth.Red tipped silver hair fanned out about her head and shoulders as she let herself slip beneath the water. She wished for that comforting silence that could often be found beneath the surface. Yet the silence eluded her the rythmn of a pulsing heart that was not her own echoed in her ears. She surfaced to lean back against now warm marble of the tub. Memories of the night surfaced in her mind as well. It had been meant to just be a simple apology for a flare of temper unwarranted.'What haunts you?' was the question that was asked of the Trueblood. To her own surprise she had started to answer. A flood from another drama had swamped the moment. She had managed to offer the apology.
The DreamWitch lifted her hand from the water. Obsidian eyes stared, as if such a stare would bring back the sensation. Touched and held. Not once but twice in a matter of moments. Both had been lost before she had truly been able to savor the feeling. How could she explain a longing of something so simple? There was no surprise at that moment though when a touch was felt upon her shoulder. Her head turned and gaze lifted to the one that was now sitting on the edge of the tub. A Trueblood, short silver spikes of hair in artful tangle. Silver eyes that held the swirl of madness in their depths. It was a mockery of her own thoughts that her subconcious had crafted. A former lover and friend laying a hand upon her shoulder to bring comfort. The DreamWitch tunred in the water. Arms reached to snake around the other, her head finding rest against the warm body. She knew that this wasn't real. A comfort brought from the dreamscape of her own creation. Yet, all she could was hold tighter.....and sob.
The pair of Truebloods on guard duty were joking with each other when the wards signaled that someone was approaching. One of them ducked back into the guardhouse for a moment. " It's a Blood" he said as he stepped back out. They both turned to look out towards the street past the gates." Is that...?" one said in a lowered voice. All hint of mirth gone from the both as the other nodded. They both hurried to open the gates before ducking back inside the guard house and closing the door behind them.
The rain had stopped at some point during her walk from the inn to Onyx House. The DreamWitch dragged a hand through her wet hair and then took another swig from the bottle as she neared. She could sense their fear as she came up to the open gate. But it was the sound in the silent night of the bolt being snuck into a slide to lock the door from within that had obsidian gaze turning towards the guard house. Fingers tightened about the bottle in her hand as she lifted her arm. She hurled the bottle with all her might at the door. The bottle exploded into tiny bits as it hit the door. The thick Chartreuse fanning a splash before it slowly began to run down the door. The DreamWitch stalked up to the house.
The great door of the house swung open as she neared as it was enchanted to do. She strode across the pristine marble floor leaving a trail of muddied bootprints in her wake.The guards must have called ahead because the doors to the sitting room were closed. She could see the shadows of boots where a little light tried to leak through under the door. She heard their soft whispering stop as she passed. Unfortunately she didn't have anything to throw at this door so she continued to the stairs to go up to her room.
She slammed the door behind her as she stepped into her room. The decoration was rich in dark shades of reds and black, a few highlights of silver. But there was nothing personal in the decorations. Melantha had let Sun decorate the room when they first arrived and it had stayed the same ever since. She moved through the room into the bathroom. Candles flickered to flame as she entered, casting a soft dancing light across the fine black marble. Veins of silver that ran through the marble glittered golden in the candle light. The house imp had already started the water flowing into the oversized tub. Steam was rising as she neared. She took the lid off of a container on the side of the tub and shook some of the bath salts within into the water. The subtle scents of elven spices rising with the steam. She turned away from the tub and shrugged out of her jacket and then started peeling off her wet clothes. Muddy boots and wet clothes left in a pile, she knew an imp would pop in and take them away to be cleaned. As she waited for the tub to finish filling she moved over to the basin and reached up to wipe the palm of her hand across the mirror to brush away the fog upon it. She stared at herself. She might get used to obsidian eyes staring back at her, if they stayed that way long enough, but what worried her more was the streaks of moisture across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the night's rain.
Steam slowly veiled the reflection away from her. She crossed back to the tub. Filled now, the taps were turned off and she slipped down into the fragrant warmth.Red tipped silver hair fanned out about her head and shoulders as she let herself slip beneath the water. She wished for that comforting silence that could often be found beneath the surface. Yet the silence eluded her the rythmn of a pulsing heart that was not her own echoed in her ears. She surfaced to lean back against now warm marble of the tub. Memories of the night surfaced in her mind as well. It had been meant to just be a simple apology for a flare of temper unwarranted.'What haunts you?' was the question that was asked of the Trueblood. To her own surprise she had started to answer. A flood from another drama had swamped the moment. She had managed to offer the apology.
The DreamWitch lifted her hand from the water. Obsidian eyes stared, as if such a stare would bring back the sensation. Touched and held. Not once but twice in a matter of moments. Both had been lost before she had truly been able to savor the feeling. How could she explain a longing of something so simple? There was no surprise at that moment though when a touch was felt upon her shoulder. Her head turned and gaze lifted to the one that was now sitting on the edge of the tub. A Trueblood, short silver spikes of hair in artful tangle. Silver eyes that held the swirl of madness in their depths. It was a mockery of her own thoughts that her subconcious had crafted. A former lover and friend laying a hand upon her shoulder to bring comfort. The DreamWitch tunred in the water. Arms reached to snake around the other, her head finding rest against the warm body. She knew that this wasn't real. A comfort brought from the dreamscape of her own creation. Yet, all she could was hold tighter.....and sob.