There's a rustle in the air the scent of lavender is carried on it. A flurry of lace and a jingle of trinkets, can be heard, then suddenly a tenacious bluster of red hair blows around a corner.
Limping into Mernac Anemo lifts her pain ridden face.
'Oh Mothers and Fathers, my dearest scribe has been bitten by a planet dirt spider.'
Anemo plunks herself down, her own leg carries the effects of her creators bite. Slowly she reaches forth and lifts her skirts, baring a white silken thigh, slowly she spreads her legs and turns the left outwards. Just above her knee theres a pinkness that darkens the further the eyes travel, suddenly two large blackish marks the size of a tea cup are revealed, in their center the skin is taunt and creamy. The heat that radiates can be felt by any who hover their hand closer. Some have been known to try making their hand wander higher, but they are soon stopped with a thunderous belly growl and a whine of pain.
'Tis so hard to not scratch, feels like theres little creatures partying under the skin.' Anemo raises her doleful eyes, bags of tiko would be easier to carry than the sleep derived ones she has under her eyes.
'I'm here, with my bells on, but am dreadfully slow. The earthly Drs say twas a whitey that took a bitey. Now the creator has cellulitous, she falls to sleep with all the meds that they have her on. I drifted into planes unknown when she diverted her plans and went to the big white hospital. An IV of antibiotics and fluid they gave, she slept through the groans and I drifted, I thought I was lost and she'd not find me.' Anemo places her left hand over the area, her bright purple talon's making a stark contrast against the livid pink of her skin. Her eyes scan Mernac for some salve to ease her second hand pain.
Her eyes alight on the start of a song, softly she hums as she trails her nails across her blemished skin.
Why, just about anything that you might want.
Are you hip to the whip? Does the flail bring you joy?
Is your preference a lassie or is it a boy?
And I hear that there's many a marvelous toy
In the dungeons of Quont
In the dungeons of Quont
Prettily she wiggles her fingers and adds a tad to the tune:
No need to be wary, they aint no fairies.
Traesha she lures with her guiles
Lanesha has an alluring smile, behind the teeth theres tongues
that procure the deepest desires.
Forever young are their bodies
But their minds, there you need to be wary.
Why, just about anything that you might want.
Are you hip to the whip? Does the flail bring you joy?
Is your preference a lassie or is it a boy?
And I hear that there's many a marvelous toy
In the dungeons of Quont
In the dungeons of Quont
Anemo lies back drifting with the pain as a billowing cloud lifts and carries her into sweet slumber, slowly she sits up and says my replies to the weekly questions will be along shortly.
Oh and the creator has a place of her own now to vent in. So if you want to keep up with the RW of Findbotr follow the links provided.
2 comments:
Oh my! Will the fates ever give your creator a rest, fair Anemo? Take good care of her so you can come back to play with us soon.
Hehe well done on the song! Only... Lucia is not a succubus, I'm afraid. She's a werewolf - one of Barak's disciples.
:-)
Uncle one can only blame the medications, the error has been fixed.
Working while in a stupor is rather confusing, between med's and RW activities (that the creator is not ALLOWED to perform) she gets grumpy, her T shirt says "I feel grouchy today!" which is so very true. Though she may change into another that says 'I am only wearing black until they make something darker.' or theres 'Damn right I'm good in bed! I could sleep all day!' Which she does anyway!
Post a Comment