|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 18, 2008 14:29:38 GMT -8
x
Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they good. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer?
The strings of the lutes had never been touched so sweetly by the fingertips of the minstrel and neither had the fiddle been so delicately strung by its player. The soft voice of the lone soprano calmed his ears and the light from the many candles alighted upon the jewels set about his throat and the shiny silver that was contrasted against his dark hair.
His locks had been brushed for once and he had pulled the top half of his untamed hair into a half ponytail, set with a silver clasp that was embellished with the figure of a rearing horse. He was wearing a satin tunic, sable in color, which did nothing to contrast with his equally sable breeches and boots. His belt seemed to have been first made of black leather and them gemstones of ruby, emerald and sapphire had been set into it, shocking the viewer's eyes for a moment on the belt, which was, for Scoailte royalty, rather plain. A small knife was set at his hip--just in case of a disturbance and the white light was reflected best in the many, tiny white diamonds set on his dark color. His face was clean, a blue moon in itself and his olive colored skin looked healthy and relatively scar-less, much less so than it did normally. He hardly ever wore the boots that h had donned for the night and so not a scratch marred their surface and his silver spurs were gone, making his feet lighter than he was used to. Finally, a long dark cloak with a bright scarlett lining covered his shoulders. He would turn the heads of many ladies that night, but his pensive green eyes were waiting intently for only one that night, a girl who had once been a slave and who was now the person for whom he most cared.
His tall boots clonked on the floor, leaving a rather hollow sound each time they met the floor and his hands fiddled nervously with the hilt of the dagger as he made his way across the hall. Several large fur trees had been erected and had been covered with tiny candles and a few little, where those faeries? Well, they seemed to be perfectly happy to flutter about the trees, radiating their light but he still thought it rather odd. large, glittering glass ornaments hung from the branches and on the top of each one, a servant had placed a silver star. The floor, which was not made of dirt or even of wood, was manufactured from stone and had been scrubbed clean by the lower servants. A few people had already gathered in the hall, but Peregrine walked alone for that moment and it seemed to him that he was all alone in the hall...all alone with his thoughts.
He had left Meg with Diamond for the moments before the ball was to begin and he was not worried about his best friend being able to protect her, for she had beaten him at the most basic of war games, but he was eager for them to arrive in the hall. The original plan had been for Meg to leave her neck uncovered by fabric so that she could show off her slave brand to the world, not only to embarrass them, but also, the prince had realized, to let them know that what they had thought was impossible could happen and that it had. He and Meg were their own version of Romeo and Juliet. except that he was planning on neither of them dying any time soon.
He cleared his throat and looked up, stopping short in his tracks. Had that moment at the top of the staircase been the rustle of a dress and a slender, slipper-encased foot. Had a wisp of dark red hair accidentally swirled around the corner pillar.
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating...
____________________________________
Word Count: About 650 Listening to: Human by The Killers Mood: Museful and happy Notes: Please note, more than two people can be on this thread, or you can start another thread or two for the Yule Ball.
|
|
|
Post by Meg Serras on Dec 18, 2008 20:43:17 GMT -8
(( Meg's Dress: s86.photobucket.com/albums/k110/Jedi-Pirate-Wizard/?action=view¤t=green-dress.jpg )) Meg took a deep breath before stepping into the lights and looking for Peregrine. Her dress was a deep, vibrant emerald that nearly matched his eyes and hung down off the shoulders in a way that made her skin crawl. How they had talked her into this dress she had no idea. But with her hair pulled back as it was into a high tail with a few strands curling along her jaw and cheeks the desired effect was achieved; she not only showed the brand but several of the scars on her back and shoulders, including the fang marks from her time with Leon. She had no idea how beautiful she was, had never really thought of herself that way. Already she could feel accusing eyes zeroing in on the brand on her neck, though none had turned her way as of yet. She froze near the wall, her gray-hazel eyes scanning for Peregrine but not finding him. Taking a few deep breaths she fought down her rising panic. He was here somewhere, she just hadn't spotted him yet. He said he'd be here, so he must be here.
|
|
|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 18, 2008 21:15:14 GMT -8
x Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they good. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer?
A smile creased his young as skin as he saw her, looking rather scared at the front of the hall. She was wearing a long, green dress that exposed all of the scars on her neck and even a little below that. Still grinning widely, he made his way toward her and with each stride he took, he seemed to exert more energy into his obviously spirited walk. But when he reached the stairway, he became oddly serious and oddly formal. This was, after all, a royal celebration. Then an evil, mischievously wicked idea came into his mind and, eyes flashing with mirth, he reached out and took her pale-skinned hand and bowing slightly, brushed his lips against the back of it.
As he straightened, he looked up, attempting to meet her eyes with his own and for a moment, all was grave and ceremonial. Time stood still and the people entering the great hall (and casting the prince strange looks) were but a blur to Peregrine as he focused in on Meg, Meg who was his entire world. Then, he grinned and spoke out loudly, in the most formal speech.
"Oh stunning goddess, will you grace me with your radiant presence, oh soul of perfection. Let me but kiss your hand again and bliss is mine." His words were a sort of jesting paradox, mocking the very thoughts that were in his heart, it was odd really, but it had all been for show and to irritate Meg as much as possible. Ever since they had passed that considerable barrier that night in Skye, Peregrine had found great delight in playing with her and teasing her in the faintest and harmless of ways.
Without waiting for her answer, he took her hands more firmly in his and began encouraging her to come down from the steps and into the crowd. His father should be there soon, or at least one of his sisters would be. They were never late to a ball, seeing as they positively lived for the events. Peregrine had never thought the female mind to be as foreign as many boys did, (possibly due to spending nearly his entire childhood with Diamond Hawk) but he still found his sisters' brains to be indecipherable, even after years of studying them, little to their knowledge or consent.
"You do look stunning, really." He muttered in an undertone to Meg, bending down to put his mouth next to her ear. From a distance, she really did look like a noble woman, but her scars branded her unmistakably and they were something that didn't make one bit of difference to her prince.
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating..
______________________________________
Word Count: 439 (RPG text) Listening to: Vienna by Billy Joel Mood: Tired, I is going to sleep soon Notes: hehe, he was going to ask her, "why so serious?', but that would be way too Batman. Congrats on the long posty, by the way, I love it when they're like that.
|
|
|
Post by Kaylee Fleming on Dec 19, 2008 10:12:01 GMT -8
x We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes and the flashback starts I'm standing there On a balcony in summer air Kaylee stood on the edges of the crowd. She had yet to find a gap big enough to let her and her dress through. However, she was not complaining in the least bit. In Kaylee's mind, the dress she was wearing was the most beautiful thing ever, and she was proud to wear it. It had cost her a very pretty penny indeed, and she wasn't quite sure where she was going to keep it after today, but it had been worth it. It was the dress of her dreams. She was sure that, at the bottom, it must be six feet in diameter, with pink ruffles lining it to the bottom, and a pink lace bodice. It made her feel like a noble woman, even though she was far from it.
Even though Kaylee was officially a pirate, she had come to this ball instead. She didn't know exactly why, except that maybe she thought this one might be fancier, and she loved fancy. She just couldn't help loving the pretty things, and this room was definitely pretty. She could gaze as the women dancing prettily around, and feel for a moment like royalty. She gave a giggle as she started imagining a story in which she was the princess and that this was a party to find a suitor for herself, but, as Kaylee thought that, she realized she already had a basic outline of who she wanted her suitor to be.
Perhaps that was the other reason she had come to this ball, for she was hoping to catch a certain dark-haired druid she had met beside the lake in Skye. She closed her eyes to imagine his face, and let a smile, along with a bit of pink come onto her face. Had it been luck that she had decided to rest on the banks of Lake Ciunas that day? Or did she even dare think it...fate? Destiny? Suddenly in her fantasy world, it was much easier to picture the prince that would sweep her off her feet...much, much easier. But, in a reality check, she realized he had already swept her off her feet...and he didn't even realize it. Kaylee frowned. Or did he? Was he just good at hiding a smirk of satisfaction? Or maybe he would just avoid her, and she would never see him again.
A flash of sadness came over her face as she thought about that possibility, but she shook it away quickly. There was no point in thinking things like that. And anyway, even if he didn't come, nothing would hold her back from having a good time. After all, it was a party. She loved parties! Of course, she had never been to a formal one and the ones she were used to were on board ships, which were MUCH different, seeing as they consisted more of drinking than dancing, and any dancing that took place was most likely part of a drinking song. A smile came onto her face as she remembered those wild nights. However, she was determined, that by the end of this night, she would formal balls better.
See the lights See the party, the ball gowns I see you make your way through the crowd You say hello, little do I know
|
|
|
Post by Simon Black on Dec 19, 2008 11:43:07 GMT -8
x
I was just guessing at numbers and figures Pulling the puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress Don't speak as loud as my heart. Tell me you love me, and come back and haunt me, Oh, when I rush to the start Running in circles, chasing tails coming back as we are.
To Simon Tam, a festive night such as a royal ball on Christmas Eve brought not joy to him. The graciously dressed people, people like him, gave him sense of belonging here. He was and forever would be, lost as a bummer lamb without his sister by his side. In fact, he was only coming to the ball because he might be able to appeal to a rich Hebridean or Scoailte, hopefully win their favor and perhaps even be granted some money for his need to rescue River.
As he entered the room, he lowered his gray hood, exposing his pale-skinned and rather worried looking face to the vaguely dim light of the hall. He was dressed tastefully, as usual in a long white-blue cloak over a blank tunic over a white shirt. He had fastened gauntlets over his forearms, even though he would never carry a falcon or shoot a bow, but the tightly-laced strings still hung down from the arms and they somewhat made him appear better informed or powerful. His breeches were a darker, navy blue and he wore boots the color of mahogany wood. The small sapphire stone reflected the light in his ice-blue eyes as it glimmered at his throat. It had been given to him upon his graduation from his apprenticeship of a master healer many years previously and, although Simon did not always wear it out the outside of his clothes, it was a constant reminder of the "Greek oath" he had taken upon becoming a healer. It was the promise to always help those who were wounded and to never inflict harm on them.
He looked around his, fearfully scanning through the masses of people who were flooding into the hall. There were so many of them, but none of them them seemed to take notice of the timid Druid standing in the shadows, the Druid who was fiddling with the strings of his rarely-worn gauntlets. Everyone else looked so cool and confident too, a trait that Simon had lacked since he could talked, it seemed and yet there they were, some of the most powerful rulers of Scotland, parading passed him.
He did not recognize one face in the hall, but then, he didn't know many people in Scotland and none in Ireland, the land of the Hibernos. There was one youth, however, whom Simon thought he recognized, but he had forgotten where he had seen his face. He was young, looking to be able fourteen or fifteen, but he carried himself with much more maturity, as if he was older. Then, something clicked in Simon's mind as the youth reached up to take the hand of a beautiful girl, a girl he had no trouble in recognizing: the Sceithian slave called Meg. Seeing her with the youth, he placed him as Peregrine, the prince of Saor, but he had not recognize him in the grab of royalty.
He backed further into the shadows. He had no supposed problem with the prince and he had been kind and polite enough upon their meeting, but he did not want to clash with the girl again, as he found her to be rude and ungrateful. Tonight was not the time for ingrates, tonight was time for gently coaxing and deal-making, tonight was...
And then he spotted her, the girl he had seen by the lake. Pretty would have been an understatement for someone wishing to describe her, but Simon couldn't think of another adjective worthy of describing her at that moment. Her long, honey-colored hair shone in the subdued light and her eyes danced about the room, laughing, smiling, just as she always seemed to be. The far away vision would have been complete, had it not been for the monstrosity that she was wearing. It was a rather hideous dress, to be blunt; a ruffled mess of sunset-colored fabrics it was piled upon itself way too many times, and as pretty as the girl, whatever her name was, (he had forgotten, typically) it gave the impression that she was a very fuzzy sheet on her hind legs and it was not at all endearing...
_________________________________________________
Word Count: 688 Listening to: The Scientist by Coldplay Mood: Generally pretty good Notes: None, really
|
|
|
Post by Meg Serras on Dec 19, 2008 22:37:14 GMT -8
Meg had smiled in relief when he'd shown up out of the crowd. But that smile faded into a scowl as her face slowly reddened when he spoke.
"Son't talk like that." She said sternly before sighing.
"Besides, I'm no goddess." She added in an undertone. She allowed him to lead her into the crowd, feeling terribly exposed in the green dress. Another blush deepened the red in her cheeks from the previous one as he complimented her seriously.
"You look handsome yourself." She replied quietly, watching their feet so as not to look at everyone around them.
|
|
|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 21, 2008 9:47:07 GMT -8
x Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they good. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or are we dancer?
"What name would thou prefer?" He inquired of her, speaking in the same, rather carrying voice. "Princess, nymph? Or perhaps you are a faerie?" He said, deliberately going over the list to tease her and to shock any royal passersby who knew him, well or not. He had never been very public in his relationship with Raver, despite its obvious unorthodoxy. The mortal prince of Saor learning to trust a vampire girl, a newborn, moreover, would have been quite enough food for thought for the royal family. But then, he had been both much kinder and a little less rebellious back in those days; now, however, it was a different story. After years of battle and hardships caused by fool-hearty blunders, he was a little craftier and a little wiser...a little.
"Why thank you," He said, with polite entonement, "clothes make the man, they say." He smirked widely and began walking after he reached for his hand. A nice tour of the tour was in order, should she consent to come and they just might catch a glimpse of another pureblood, or, more ideally, the pureblood might catch a glimpse of them. Then would come the uncomfortable objective part of the ball: the dancing. Peregrine had never been a very good dancer. He was clumsy, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own and he had never really seemed to pay much attention in the dancing lessons that he had been forced to learn in his youth. He had learned the sword dance, but he had found it fascinating and he was in current good shape should he ever want to learn to move his feet properly, but alas, the prince had other ideas as to what to do with his time and bringing ex Sceithian slaves to royal balls was one of them.
"My lady," But he stopped short, a look of shock and disbelief upon his clean face. For a moment, he merely stood beside her, but then he said, "I cannot believe this, but I cannot believe that I've never asked you your surname before."
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating...
__________________________________________________
Word Count: 373 Listening to: The sound of cooking from the kitchen (it smells good) Mood: A little chilled (I'm actually wearing a jacket! Yay! And excited because my cousin's coming over later. Notes: Eh, my post was short.
|
|
|
Post by Meg Serras on Dec 21, 2008 12:21:56 GMT -8
"Stop it." Meg growled, glaring at him. She was not finding this funny in any way and was already strained from being around so many strangers in such an exposed way. She sighed and allowed him to lead her through the crowd, her shoulders tense and her eyes flashing around the crowd. She ignored his rather arrogant reply to her compliment and continued eyeing the people around them nervously. She looked up at him with a rather superior expression though when he asked for her surname.
"I did tell you when we first met. Meg, no surname." She replied, speaking slowly and clearly as if talking to someone a little slow in the head.
|
|
|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 21, 2008 14:00:46 GMT -8
x Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they could. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or are we dancer?
"Lady Meg, then." He amended, not sensing that she was not incredibly amused by his foolery. He was in an incredibly good mood that night and not much that he could see then was going to spoil it, even if he made an utter fool of himself on the floor dancing, he wasn't going to mind much if people laughed or covered their mouths in shock at the notion that the next leader of their country wasn't able to cope with dancing in a social event.
He smirked widely, bowed low and looked up at her. This was the big moment and she would most probably refuse, but then he would insist and it would all be very funny...for him.
"Would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" He said. It wasn't a question, it was a request and such a request as he would not drop throughout the night. He had no real desire to dance of course; what he was most interested in was being with her and after that, embarrassing the people who were unfortunately related to him.
The world is so cruel. He thought, gleefully, his current mood at complete odds with his mental statement. For him, this was a festive, amusing night on which he could introduce the woman he loved to his world and mortify his kin at the same time. Now if only someone important would appear, like his father, or mother or even his uncle, or, he felt particularly smug admitting it to himself, Peter. He would have loved for his hated cousin to appear to see him dancing with someone who was very obviously a slave, as was visible from her many brands. It would have been something that would have been sure to replace the haughty sneer with a look of disgusted disbelief on Peter's face.
But alas, the third-in-line was nowhere to be found...yet.
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating...
_____________________________________________
Word Count: 343 Listening to: Myself singing Human (the song in this post) and thinking about how I should not attempt to sing in front of people while I have a cold Mood: Very hungry (must eat...now) Notes: Wow, that was a weird posty
|
|
|
Post by Meg Serras on Dec 21, 2008 14:18:03 GMT -8
Meg thought about it for a moment before nodding. If there was one thing she was, it was quick on her feet. When Peregrine had been teaching her what she would know for this night she had picked up dancing rather easily, not as naturally as she had archery, but she was definitely better at it than the Prince. "Alright, try not to step on me." She replied with a small smile, taking her own oppurtunity to tease him. Remembering the etiquete she had been taught she dipped into a rather awkward curtsy, still feeling uncomfortable about the dress. Her hand looked white as new fallen snow in his olive-toned grasp and the scars on her neck, arms, back, and shoulders stood out in sharp relief against her pale skin. Word Count: 131 Listening to: Human by the Killers Mood: Vaguely hungry and kind of bored. Notes: Happy?
|
|
|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 22, 2008 11:16:00 GMT -8
x Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they could. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or are we dancer?
He was surprised by her answer, for he had been expecting her to refuse, but then, she had never been what he had expected out of the girl with whom he would eventually fall in love. After his initial shock was gone, he led her out into the middle of the crowd a little tentatively, This was it, the big moment, the time for which he had been waiting.
"Right," He said, with something of another smirk and a non-committal jerk of his dark-haired head. What was he doing, really? He couldn't dance...well, unless it was some sort of dance involving dodging fire-tipped arrows. He was beginning to have second thoughts about doing this, in front of everyone, but then Meg had expressed how she would and there was no backing out it now. He was locked in, like a knocked string that had just been released.
A bagpipe wheezed somewhere to his right, a drum pounded, a soprano flute played its haunting solo as a lute was plucked delicately. There was a soft flurry as the heads of the other dancers turned to see the first two brave souls who had ventured out into the center of the floor. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a fiddle was struck and Peregrine sprang forward clumsily, but suddenly grinning widely. The music was fast-paced and merry and he was making up the steps as he went.
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating... __________________________________________
Word Count: 230 Listening to: The Battlefield band playing Scottish folk music. Mood: Pretty good, it rained here last night and my brother is apparently leaving me alone...for now. Notes: Yes, very.
|
|
|
Post by Meg Serras on Dec 22, 2008 12:30:58 GMT -8
Meg's shoulders were aching from the tension as so many people turned to see who had started dancing. She could feel their eyes on her myriad of scars, feel the disaproval emanating from so many. But she took a deep breath and focused on Peregrine, on keeping her feet out from under his boots as they danced. "I think Vollo could dance better than you." She said quietly with a small smirk of her own, her hazel eyes glinting with a little mischeif. She allowed the feeling of his hand in hers to overlay her anxiety and the gazes of those around them. Word Count: 104 Listening to: Country Radio Mood: Content and craving In-n-Out. Notes: Not a very good post, but I guess it'll do. When do we get royalty interrupting?
|
|
|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 22, 2008 15:38:09 GMT -8
x Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they could. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or are we dancer?
"Indeed," The prince agreed, recovering from what might have been a near stumble, "in fact, he does all the time, with all of the dressage training I've been putting into him. Those Greek masters really know their stuff, by the way: I've been doing some reading in the library." He stopped, realizing what he was talking about. He could ramble on about horses for hours on end, but he didn't see Meg jumping for joy at the mention of dressage, so he promptly discontinued the subject.
"Speaking of proper dancing," He added, looking down at his awkward hands, "I think I put this here." He said, placing his left hand on her waist and stepping a little closer to her. "And this...here." His eyes widened slightly as he entwined his right fingers with hers, raising them into the air. He was suddenly serious, in contrast to the playful knight he had been mere moments before. Immediately, he had become ultimately sensitive to everything around him, but the only thing that he knew of around him was Meg. He felt as if his breathe had been knocked from his body and his heart had been set to race much too fast. They were frozen, but only for a mere second; there was no time for that now. The fiddle's strings wound faster, signaling a faster dance. And so it was with a concerned smile that Peregrine stepped forward, leading her into a flurry of movement, despite having no idea what he was supposed to be doing..
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating...
_____________________________________________
Word Count: 350 Listening to: Nothing, currently Mood: Hungry as well, *drools* In-N-Out.......... Notes: No clue, I asked Mizu, but she doesn't want to bring Eirian in and I don't know where the other two princes are...I shall have to PM their players.
|
|
|
Post by Meg Serras on Dec 22, 2008 15:50:16 GMT -8
Meg inhaled sharply as he lay his long fingered hand on her hip, though she had been expecting it. Her fingers twined through his olive-toned ones and her left hand rested on his shoulder. She allowed him to lead, concentrating mostly on keeping her feet and the hem of her dress out from under his feet as he lightly stumbled his way through the steps. Her wide gray-hazel eyes met his and locked there, drowing in those emerald depths ntil she couldn't even hear the music or other people around them. Her senses were completely accupied by him, where his hand rested on her hip, his fingers twisted through her own, his breath on her face from their closeness as they danced.
Meg's shoulders were aching from the tension as so many people turned to see who had started dancing. She could feel their eyes on her myriad of scars, feel the disaproval emanating from so many. But she took a deep breath and focused on Peregrine, on keeping her feet out from under his boots as they danced.
"I think Vollo could dance better than you." She said quietly with a small smirk of her own, her hazel eyes glinting with a little mischeif. She allowed the feeling of his hand in hers to overlay her anxiety and the gazes of those around them.
Word Count: 125 Listening to: Country Radio Mood: Happy, hopeful. Notes: Yes you should, I would love to see a confrontation with Peter. And how's that post huh? *grins*
|
|
|
Post by Peregrine Alexander on Dec 22, 2008 22:36:11 GMT -8
x Pay my respects to grace and virtue, Send my condolences to good, Give my regards to soul and romance, They always did the best they could. And so long to devotion, you taught me everything I know. Wave goodbye, wish me well, you got to let me go. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or are we dancer?
His eyes locked back with hers. They weren't as brilliant garish as his own pensive, yet bright emerald iris's, (a trait he was very proud of) but they still held more for him than in the depths of the eyes of his closest companion, when she was exempted from that rule. She was, in all respects, his closest and most constant companion; and they had already established that every moment that the two spent apart, Meg was in danger of recapture from her former masters and Peregrine had vowed by heaven and by earth that he would not let that happen again. And so he would stay by her side by day, (so far, by the night, Diamond had been taking her, as they had not yet found an excuse elaborate enough for the prince to be away on "Druid business" every night, or any night for that matter) but it wasn't like he minded the constant guard he kept over her.
The intensity of her gaze made him want to flinch, a desire so strong and yet so conquerable that he twitched and flinched, but he did not tear his gaze away. He was not going to be the one who broke their connection, their bond. No one could break their bond, for only their gaze, unwavering but tested, was venerable and at the same time, easily repairable. She had been born a slave in the most brutal country in Scotland and he had been born a prince in the richest kingdom next to Britain and yet, they had been made for each other, or rather, as Peregrine liked to look at the situation, the world had been made for them.
His fingers, pale as marble in contrast to the people living in Southern Europe, were dark as oil olive as he traced slightly from her hip to her slender waist. She was much skinnier than he was, but he supposed that had much more to do with gender and childhood nutrition than it did her current intake of food.
"You're beautiful, did you know that?" He asked, her as if he was making conversation about the weather, but with a note of sincerity so true in his voice, that it would have made the lovesick cherub weep with emotion. His other hand, which had been actively been entwining itself in her own hand, had settled into a settled, peaceful position, even though he would occasionally move his fingers about in hers. On previous days, he quite liked lively music, but at this moment, he mourned it, wishing that it might have been a slower piece, a haunting melody of his homeland.
"Oh yes, we've established that he can." He said, cheerfully, narrowing avoiding steeping on her foot for the third time that night.
I did my best to notice, When the call came down the line, I was brought, but I was kind. And sometimes I get nervous, When I see an open door. Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. Are we human, or we dancer? My sign is vital, my hands are cold, And I'm on my knees, looking for the answer: Are we human or dancer? Will your system will all right, When you dream of home tonight? There is no message we're receiving, Let me know if your heart's still beating...
_______________________________________________
Word Count: 520 Listening to: Nothing, at the moment Mood: Exhausted Notes: Yes! Go! Go! Go! I think I found my muse, heh.
|
|