insanityfromapen
The mirror broke, shards flung to the far corners of the room from the impact. The pieces on the ground reflected the lamplight back a grisly red as blood dripped from her head onto the remains. "It doesn't hurt that much," she thought before slipping into a deep unconsciousness to escape the horrors of her reality.
All i can think about with this word is Conor McGregor. He is the embodiment of his arrogant and yet beautiful lifestyle. He is both graceful and cocky and can switch between the two between one press conference and the next. Always finding that line of acceptable and then just reaching over it-- whether its a pin-striped "fuck you" suit or flannel pants and a mink coat. No matter what, though, Conor McGregor's presence commands to be felt.
The devil is in the details so they say. Sarah considered this as she lightly traced the veins that laced across Collin's hand and forearm. In that case, I love the devil more and more every day. Sarah smiled tightly to herself, admiring the play of her pale fingers over this man's tanned skin.
It began to glow underneath the then white garment draped over it, haphazardly hiding it from view. It wasn't until the orb vibrated off the pillar with a solid thunk, though, that Collin noticed it. He warily nudged it with his staff remembering the last time he touched something belonging to the mage.
The timing was all wrong. This couldn't be the real end. Things would come back together somehow.
She held onto that belief like the only piece of wood in the ocean of her emotions. She wasn't ready to face the fact that it wouldn't hold her above water for long.
The bottle shattered against the wall. Her eyes were so wide that he would have laughed under different circumstances. His anger had control. But why was he angry? He couldn't remember. Why was he trying to hurt Amber? He couldn't remember that either.
There was a small amount of fear that screamed at him as someone hefted-- no, it was him picking up another bottle, taunting the girl and smiling.
Pan plays his flute and draws me in
You don't need to focus on that right now
Take a break, his music seems to say
It flows and surges around me
But I cannot afford to listen
Not now, not yet.
I am busy, fluteplayer, and I am sorry
We will dance one day
But tonight?
Tonight I must write!
"Don't move."
Jenna took Varek's advice and froze where she stood. Her muscles quivered after fighting all night. Now, everything stood still, hanging in the balance. There was a quiet sound-- what was that? Growling. Something was definitely growling, and it was close to her, hiding. She could just make out the shape of a man in her peripheral vision, but the darkness hid any details.
Her grip on the bow tightened until she felt splinters stabbing into her fingers and palm. She wasn't going to go down without facing whatever hid in the shadows.
With a shout, the alley flared with bright blue light. There, where the shadow from the building had been stood the monster from all of Jenna's nightmares: the vampire (?) that killed her parents.
The room was filled with tension, like lightning charging before its strike. The counsel stared in shock as this girl- no this woman stood before them in defiance. She dared speak to them despite her role among the unworthies. This daughter of demons had the audacity to stand even in the presence of these powerful men, and not a single one of them dared to rise against her.
Searing pain is what roused Cassie out of her stupor. Where am I? she croaked. A woman rushed to her in the academy's nurse uniform.
"You're in the hospital, dear."
Cassie felt as if the sheer fabric draped around her had robbed her of any dignity she lay have held from the lost fight.
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