Don't Let Death Kill The Party // Lance{Blitz}
Jan 1, 2017 22:44:26 GMT -5
Post by Arrows on Jan 1, 2017 22:44:26 GMT -5
Athena Lumiere
Failure, it was such a fickle subject to shift through the seas of District One. Whenever the sweet serenity of success swept through the streets there was never an end to the euphoric enthusiasm. But failure, it was lucky to be spoken of a second after the final breaths fled a fallen career. It was the same with Asha, he came so close to achieving such surreal ascension yet his efforts were not rewarded. His failure was swiftly swept beneath a carpet and the family prepped for an improved results. The Lumieres could not risk a falter in their family name so they shook together a party to repress his death. They didn't dwell or become devoured in sadness, they just carried on and so did the party.
Lights flashed and lasers lept from every crevice and corner of the mansion. Through the swarming seas of sweltering sweaty children Athena wove. Laid upon her light skin a dress of brilliant black and a veil to match hovered over her harbored eyes. Hate shone within her illuminated irises, this was a time for mourning and for recovery yet here the party raved. Her fingers ferociously steal a drink as she retreats to a secluded balcony. A cigarette slips from her side as she searches for a lighter to ignite her illusions of a different reality. Her words strike sharp and sorrowfully at the discovery of the missing lighter. "Figures, just my fucking luck."
Lights flashed and lasers lept from every crevice and corner of the mansion. Through the swarming seas of sweltering sweaty children Athena wove. Laid upon her light skin a dress of brilliant black and a veil to match hovered over her harbored eyes. Hate shone within her illuminated irises, this was a time for mourning and for recovery yet here the party raved. Her fingers ferociously steal a drink as she retreats to a secluded balcony. A cigarette slips from her side as she searches for a lighter to ignite her illusions of a different reality. Her words strike sharp and sorrowfully at the discovery of the missing lighter. "Figures, just my fucking luck."
Word Count: 246
