[ Respond | Solira: The Ocean ]
Posted by ill on November 30, 2008, 3:09 pm, in reply to "depth; ANY"
192.149.97.50
ill THOUGHTS; ill WORDS;
Indeed, it was almost as if he had fallen into the trance of the dead, lingering in the conscious that was yet conscious. Insanity’s vile grip had Ill bemusedly in its clutches, and what’s more, it didn’t phase Ill at all. One might wonder, after all, if Ill rather enjoyed himself in his wayward nonsense.
But for the moment, we’ll forget all this. The stocky white figure that is Ill was dozing contentedly in the almost-morning sunlight at the edge of the sea. He was not the restful type, but something about this day was peaceable in a way that can sooth even the most unstable. Ill’s right eye hadn’t even spun in a crazy circle this morning. (Not that he’d opened his eyes yet.)
A pattering sound, like paw-falls disturbed his quiet, though, and at once Ill’s black eyes shot open. His ears twitched around just as his eyes narrowed in their instant search for the source of the issue. There was nothing. Perhaps an odd choppiness to the new waves sliding up the sand, but Ill wasn’t sure he could chalk that up to anything but rocks under the sand.
Indeed.
Nonetheless, now that Ill’s eyes had opened, he had seen that he was not alone on the icy beach. For a few seconds, the white snake contemplated moving back into his world of half-sleep. But of course his madness got the better of him, and there was something about the other standing there that made Ill think some dark secret was biting at his soul.
Oh how we love dark secrets.
Ill’s right eye swung a bit out, lopsided in its view of the world. But Ill ignored it and instead broke into his customary walk. The jagged back-and-forth movements jarred his straight-line path, but he had never really noticed. After all, with only one functioning eye, what you come to know as the reality is quite different from truth.
A bit of a good mood gripped the white stallion of death and after a moment’s indecision, Ill jumped into a canter. It was the first time he had moved that quickly in the land of Legend, and there was good reason for it. The jagged weave of his serpentine movements were elongated. The movements now were dangerously like a car skidding on ice, fishtailing left and right, completely out of control.
Worst of all? Ill was loving it. He threw his face up into the sky, not even bothering to watch where he was going alone the shoreline. But vaguely something reminded him that he was headed straight towards another. And he stopped. Practically on a dime, in fact, which leads me to believe there’s more to Ill’s coordination than there appears to be. But he was suddenly there, practically on top of the other. ‘Uh.’ Ill might actually be lost for the words now. ‘Sorry.’
‘Why the brooding?’
ooc] holy cow that got long. O.O
ill DEEDS;
4 years
something
white
QUEENofHEARTS
xkhx morphine
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