Topic: To serve delirium

Chimeras Token

Date: 2009-12-06 16:17 EST
"I'm falling."

"No you're not. Stand up tall, Finch. Crazy little bird."

Says the Raven. Nevermore.

Did the Raven even remember Finch? Those moments together locked in gilded cages. Side by side.

The Raven curled at the bottom of the cage. Blood and Feathers every where like a Ruby and Onyx gory ridden display.

Finch would swing in her own gilded cage. Sublime in her own hideaway of her fractured and broken mind.

To be broken wasn't so bad.

She knew of the rage, knew of the despair, of the shattered joy that was but illusion.

Delusion.

Phaedra, pretty winter swan had given up her wings, the Raven had them plucked and torn... and what of Finch.

Finch's feathers were clipped. Trimmed. Domesticated.

Or maybe she was free.

A wild bird.

Some times it felt as if she was all forged of a life made for sugar cane and tears, other times of desire and zambuca, and then those moments of fury and hot chocolate.

So many flavors in her spirit.

Manifested.

Emotions like colors in the smoke quartz of her sight.

Free from all that now.

No more cages. No more bars.

Yet she was still trapped... and in between.

For in the midst and middle of Death and Dreams there could only be Delirium.

http://www.supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lindanyvltova/105.jpg

Chimeras Token

Date: 2009-12-06 16:52 EST
"I'm afraid of the night."

"What is there to fear in the night?"

"The Bogeyman."

"He cannot get you. There is nothing to fear..."

Waking up to whispers.

A repeat and rewind of spoken words. Haunted confessions. Speech to strangers.

Felicia had changed when Felicia had become Finch.

Altered and twisted as much as the changes taken on by Phaedra as Pheus and Neoma as Solah.

"Show me your teeth." Finch asked while recoiling when the mirror mocked her. She rapped on it lightly with her knuckles.

Frowning as she turned away. "That's not funny."

One moment she felt so human. Woman and adult in prime.

The next she felt a child locked in the labyrinth of her own fantasy.

Every moment in play.

Unrehearsed and undefined.

Life like flesh and foliage and eyes were ever changing. The gift of Finch. Changing ways.

Her sisters were owned and bound by Masters of dreams and illusions, nightmares and fantasies... or death and despair, eulogies and eternity.

Finch would be bound to serve a Master that was everchanging based on a whim. A notion. It depended on his mood or what struck his fancy.

Even if fancy meant striking her.

There were reasons to fear when her mind spoke to her of the sensation of fear.

Finch would not fear the dark. She would fear the mystery of what happened next.

Terrified by the thrill of one that held her in the palm of his hand like a reprimanded pawn...

As Terrified by the thrill of the way just a fleeting glimpse of a stranger in a strange land had set a still heart. To beat.

"What do you see when you close your eyes? Can you see this?"

Can you see me... Is really what she wanted to ask.

http://www.supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lindanyvltova/181.jpg

Chimeras Token

Date: 2009-12-09 18:03 EST
(Lyrics Little Bird by Imogen Heap http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X9diXbRy3qs)

Little bird, little bird, little bird
What do you hear?
The clink of morning cheers
Orange juice concentrate
Crossword puzzles start to grade
One across
Four letter word, it's just not sitting


Snow drift. Snow fall. Tasted on her tongue. Finch smiled bright and somewhat sharp. Squinting in the light of an afternoon sun. Glistening off crystal white snow.

Flawless and Untouched was the snow in its first falling. Finch fell in love that day.

Wished she could be like the fresh, undriven snow. Flawless and Untouched.

Little bird, little bird, little bird
What do you see?
A picture perfect scene
Two toned lawns are manicured
The gardens wearing haute couture

It's hiding something
It's trying too hard
Hiding something
It's trying too hard


She had seen beyond the sight of dark glasses. Seen within dark eyes.

They glistened like oil in a shadow slick night. Gleamed like wicked tragedy and sinful salvation.

Haven. So Sanguine.

Her hands reached out. Caught snowflakes. Crystal spades of hair falling in her eyes changed hue.

Melancholy blue to shadow grey falling to painted hue.

Paint it black.

Black like his eyes.

Spades of hair to mimic his eyes. Mimic the Black of the spades.

No Ace. No Queen though was Finch.

Just Finch. Little Bird that she was.

Little bird, little bird, little bird
Where are they now?
Day time tv lounge
A carriage clock, a mantelpiece
A family wiped up, J-cloth cleaned
Unsaid, festers in the throws of the sofa

Little bird, little bird, little bird
How are you feeling?
Like help in quarantine
Pearly whites, touch down smile
Absent creases round the eyes

Tell tale, hard sell
We smell rats in the kitchen
Tell tale, hard sell
We smell rats in the kitchen


Finch saw him coming before it was too late. No time to retreat. No time to turn away.

"So you want him to see you hmm? Little Bird. Sweet Finch. You paint yourself in his colors, Little Bird. Shall I paint you for him?"

"No. No no no. Not tonight. Not today. Let it be quiet."

"You are never quiet, Finch. You were meant to sing."

"No. Meant to Dance. The Raven she sings."

"But not the song I want to hear..."

"Please..."

"Shh. Sing..."

Little bird, little bird, little bird
What can we do?
Think tank think rescue
Simon says, etch a sketch
Some encoded message only he would get
Quickly now
Cause this is not how it ends

Little bird, little bird, little bird
(Little bird, little bird, little bird)
Well I've got one more question
(Little bird, little bird, little bird)
And I swear I'll let it rest
(Little bird, little bird, little bird)
Well I've just one more question
(Little bird, little bird, little bird)
And I swear I'll let it rest


Crystal spades and blades of hair faded to apparition white as the pretty lines and curves of flesh became violent violet and melancholy blue with the bloom of bruise.

Her lips parted but no song came forth. For the Bogeyman she would not sing.

For him she would scream.

One more question
I'll let it rest
I swear I'll let it rest
Got one more question
(And I swear I'll let it rest)
I've got one more question

Little bird, little bird, little bird
Where have you gone?


http://www.supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lindanyvltova/140.jpg

Chimeras Token

Date: 2009-12-13 22:00 EST
"Stay with me Tonight."

"If it is what you wish."

"I am scared."

"You do not have to be. Not any more."

Calm comfort. A quiet whisper.

The Hush Hush Hush.

Shh we're sleeping sort of feel to the night.

Everything in a moment.

A moment for every thing.

Did it make sense?

No of course not.

Her sleep was broken.

Sometimes the tears spilled.

Fell when she couldn't catch them.

Too weak when she already was falling apart.

Such beauty she found could be found in a breakdown.

"I... I think I'm falling apart."

"I will put you together."

"That's sweet..."

"You think so?"

"I do... but you... you're just a figment of my imagination."

So sweet.

A close of eyes.

Sleep found. Worn and damaged smile on her lips.

"I could tell you I love you and it would be okay."

"And why would it be okay?"

"Because you're make believe. I made you up... and you make things okay."

A brush of lips felt at her brow. A whisper hushed as a dark shadow to blanket her in a soothing comfort.

"I love you too."

Just a figment of her imagination but something about that figment's words made her sleep sound.

http://www.supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lindanyvltova/139.jpg

Chimeras Token

Date: 2010-01-31 08:55 EST
Illusions. Pretty illusions.

Oh she knew he was make believe.

He had to be. Had to be.

For he was not here.

In the dark of the nook found, Finch curled.

Sparrow spades of hair fell like gold and battered bronze at her pale flesh, the ink deep dark of her eyes grooming over books.

Literature.

"Tell me a story."

A whisper in the night.

She'd wait for him forever.

Little Bird's broken voice as she huddled in the nook of the library store where the sweetest moments were found.

So often they played Hide and Seek.

Now she wondered if she had hid too well.

"Come find me."

A pleading, closing her eyes as the nook became a poor excuse for sanctuary.

Finch mewled out in pain.

A broken sound of a broken girl

The violent violet and spread of blue of the bruises had grown.

Spilled over her flesh like aged paint.

Cracked and wounded of punishment.

Love someone more then yourself. Love someone more then the one that owns you... and there became pain.

Her fingers curled in the blades of her hair as she cried herself to sleep.

Wanting nothing more then silence...

Deep inside she kept on screaming.

http://www.supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lindanyvltova/199.jpg

To Serve

Date: 2010-01-31 18:16 EST
They are called Hunters. Dark Hunters, to be precise.

But so few of his kind could claim the name of 'Hunter.' So many of them let others do their dirty work, relying on persistence of rumor and word of mouth and other such clues.

He has always worked alone. Following his senses, his instincts, his hunches, those intuitive proddings of the flesh and feeling that so many others seemed to want to give up in the growing reliance on technological advancement.

It worked for them, of course. But to make yourself a weapon, to use and rely upon none save yourself, that is true skill, true talent.

He has, through the centuries, taken the time to hone not only his combative edge, his body, but his mind and instincts as well, for even in his life they had never failed him.

And so, in their little game, he has thus far found himself the victor repeatedly, much to their mutual pleasure.

Only this time she is being...difficult.

Not that it had been easy before - time and again she had proven herself far too able to pick a spot that eluded him for a time, but he had located her in the end. Following some nameless urging, his feelings had led her to him.

Now, he doesn't know which way to turn. She comes from everywhere, from nowhere, until finally something solidifies.

Her voice, as though whispered from somewhere nearby. Pleading.

"Come find me."

He had been wandering, lost in thought, his mind centered upon this game they had been playing for days, weeks. A look around reveals a nook from which a cry of pain comes.

A voice he knows, has come to be attached to...to come as close as he dares to love.

Perhaps it is too late for daring closeness...that line may have been crossed.

The fluttery wings of panic in his thoughts seem to indicate that clearer than anything else.

Without hesitation he moves, slipping into the nook to find her asleep, the little death that had claimed her as she waited for him to end the game. Dark eyes look over her flesh, scrutinizing the painful bruises and wounds that claimed her body, a punishment wrought by one he does not know.

The sharp canines are bared as he growls softly, his cool hands laid on her injuries as he whispers soothing songs in his native tongue, the Japanese lullaby he had sung to another he had loved so long ago.

Chimeras Token

Date: 2010-02-01 22:38 EST
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A63VwWz1ij0&feature=fvst Paramore - Brick by Boring Brick )

She lives in a fairy tale
Somewhere too far for us to find
Forgotten the taste and smell
Of the world that she's left behind
It's all about the exposure the lens I told her
The angles were all wrong now
She's ripping wings off of butterflies
keep your feet on the ground
when your head's in the clouds

Dreams were not her forte. Oh she served delirium so well. The weary exhaustion of one who would give in to the torments and tortures that were so easily found in her life.

The lullaby was heard even if not completely understood and it drew her slowly toward awakening.

A soft sound. He was not her Prince Charming. Or maybe he was. Sometimes her nights and days became so confused that Finch near forgot who she was. What she was if not a figment.

Well go get your shovel
And we'll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle
Well go get your shovel
And we'll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle; bury the castle
Ba da ba ba da ba ba ha

So one day he found her crying
Coiled up on the dirty ground
Her prince finally came to save her
And the rest you can figure out
But it was a trick
And the clock struck 12

Her lashes fluttered slow as the colors altered again. Soft creamy gold the strands of her hair but those eyes remained the same as they fastened on him in her sweet silence.

Fingertips danced patterns on his skin. From shoulder to throat and trickling to his jaw.

"You...found me."

A smile there. Serene even in her confusion of all that had come to pass.

Well make sure to build your house brick by boring brick
or the wolves gonna blow it down
keep your feet on the ground
when your head's in the clouds

Well go get your shovel
And we'll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle

Well you built up a world of magic
Because your real life is tragic
Yeah you built up a world of magic
If it's not real

Nibbling down on the lip. Ignoring the complaint of sore muscles as she was suddenly up. Swift and quick. A delicate, dainty curl of fingers to his neck as she was easing up and the sweetest offering of a kiss, feather light, butterfly wings of touch upon his mouth.

A whisper. So quiet. A secret she confessed as her eyes were near luminous with the emotion.

"I missed you so..."

You can't hold it in your hand
You can't feel it with your heart
And I won't believe it
But if it's true
You can see it with your eyes
Or even in the dark
And that's where I want to be, yeah
Go get your shovel
We'll dig a deep hole
To bury the castle, bury the castle

Fairytales mayhaps were not meant to be real, to be true but something of Finch's world was ever a delirious fantasy that she would never wish to let go of. The Hunter...more so was one she never wished to let go of.

http://www.supermodels.nl/ModelPics/lindanyvltova/193.jpg