Architeuthis dux [OPEN]
Apr 29, 2012 18:45:44 GMT -5
Post by QueenoftheChinaDolls on Apr 29, 2012 18:45:44 GMT -5
Architeuthis dux. The giant squid. The Kraken. A bizarre and fierce sea creature seen through the eyes of imagination.
Brilliant blue eyes flew open, a brilliant splash of color against a pale, stoic face.
Fierce. Dangerous.
Cool sand shifted underneath a small, lithe body that bent and weaved away from an invisible attacker.
I am just as fierce. I am just as dangerous.[/color]
A knife, held tightly by a small, pale hand cut through the dark sky glinting menacingly from the moon's pale rays.
No one can tell me otherwise.
Sand flew, kicked up along with a small, pale foot that struck the chest of the invisible attacker.
I know who I am. I know I am strong.
The sand leapt in surprise as the lithe body hopped closer to her invisible attacker.
I am fierce. I am dangerous.
Another slice, a finishing blow.
No one can tell me otherwise.[/color]
The small body straightened, the knife it wielded falling to her side. Blue eyes, the only color in this pale, dark world closed again as she managed a small breath. They opened again, swiveling to stare at the brilliant, pale moon.
It's silly, but I wonder.... I wonder, does the Kraken really exist or is it just a silly fish tale mothers tell children to scare their children?[/color]
Blue eyes fell from the moon to the ocean spread out in front of them. Waves crashed quietly against the sand full of tantalizing secrets she desired to discover. Pale fingers dropped her knife, point down, into the sand, moving to the chocolate locks that rested upon her head in a long, tight plait. They fluttered for a moment, nearly tugging the band out before dropping back to her sides.
She still needed to train. Sleep be damned. Bending down, she picked up her knife again, dropping her gaze from the ocean down to her long, pale fingers. The knife, glinting prettily in the moon's rays begged to be tossed, used, anything. Her fingers ached but she needed to continue. Twirling the blade, she closed her eyes, allowing the familiar form to take her over as her small began to bend and weave against yet another invisible attacker. Allowing the imaginary fight to take her over, she blocked out the world.
There was nothing that could penetrate her absorbed mind, which she knew was dangerous. She knew many things were dangerous, including herself. She refused to let fear control her. She needed to brave, even if fighting some fictional man was the only way she knew how.
Her sisters and Maverick would disapprove. She could see in her mind's eye Tuula shaking her head, she could hear Sirpa yell and Klaara sigh. She could see Maverick's sad eyes as he reminded her that she needed a life outside of training. She could hear him reprimand her and tell her that she wasn't Vellamo, she wouldn't be Reaped like her and that this wasn't any way to get attention from her unloving parents.
Vellamo. Cold, calculating, just like the sea goddess she was named for. Reaped at seventeen, dead twenty-three days before her eighteenth birthday at the hands of another child much like herself. She was nothing like Vellamo. Her parents, hardly caring at her near death, told her that.
Maverick was right. This was a pathetic and stupid way to try and get attention. She wasn't a Career, no matter how much she pretended to be one. At least if she was Reaped, she had a fair chance of surviving.
Her body ducked and weaved, her knife sliced and cut through the night sky. Slowly each slice, kick, and punch became less volatile, less threatening and she slowed to a complete stop. Sighing heavily. This was pathetic. She was pathetic.
She dropped to the sand, her knees curling up to her chest. Her head dropped to her knees as she dropped her knife, fighting the urge to throw it into the ocean. Maybe the Kraken would find a better use for it than herself.[/size]
Brilliant blue eyes flew open, a brilliant splash of color against a pale, stoic face.
Fierce. Dangerous.
Cool sand shifted underneath a small, lithe body that bent and weaved away from an invisible attacker.
I am just as fierce. I am just as dangerous.[/color]
A knife, held tightly by a small, pale hand cut through the dark sky glinting menacingly from the moon's pale rays.
No one can tell me otherwise.
Sand flew, kicked up along with a small, pale foot that struck the chest of the invisible attacker.
I know who I am. I know I am strong.
The sand leapt in surprise as the lithe body hopped closer to her invisible attacker.
I am fierce. I am dangerous.
Another slice, a finishing blow.
No one can tell me otherwise.[/color]
The small body straightened, the knife it wielded falling to her side. Blue eyes, the only color in this pale, dark world closed again as she managed a small breath. They opened again, swiveling to stare at the brilliant, pale moon.
It's silly, but I wonder.... I wonder, does the Kraken really exist or is it just a silly fish tale mothers tell children to scare their children?[/color]
Blue eyes fell from the moon to the ocean spread out in front of them. Waves crashed quietly against the sand full of tantalizing secrets she desired to discover. Pale fingers dropped her knife, point down, into the sand, moving to the chocolate locks that rested upon her head in a long, tight plait. They fluttered for a moment, nearly tugging the band out before dropping back to her sides.
She still needed to train. Sleep be damned. Bending down, she picked up her knife again, dropping her gaze from the ocean down to her long, pale fingers. The knife, glinting prettily in the moon's rays begged to be tossed, used, anything. Her fingers ached but she needed to continue. Twirling the blade, she closed her eyes, allowing the familiar form to take her over as her small began to bend and weave against yet another invisible attacker. Allowing the imaginary fight to take her over, she blocked out the world.
There was nothing that could penetrate her absorbed mind, which she knew was dangerous. She knew many things were dangerous, including herself. She refused to let fear control her. She needed to brave, even if fighting some fictional man was the only way she knew how.
Her sisters and Maverick would disapprove. She could see in her mind's eye Tuula shaking her head, she could hear Sirpa yell and Klaara sigh. She could see Maverick's sad eyes as he reminded her that she needed a life outside of training. She could hear him reprimand her and tell her that she wasn't Vellamo, she wouldn't be Reaped like her and that this wasn't any way to get attention from her unloving parents.
Vellamo. Cold, calculating, just like the sea goddess she was named for. Reaped at seventeen, dead twenty-three days before her eighteenth birthday at the hands of another child much like herself. She was nothing like Vellamo. Her parents, hardly caring at her near death, told her that.
Maverick was right. This was a pathetic and stupid way to try and get attention. She wasn't a Career, no matter how much she pretended to be one. At least if she was Reaped, she had a fair chance of surviving.
Her body ducked and weaved, her knife sliced and cut through the night sky. Slowly each slice, kick, and punch became less volatile, less threatening and she slowed to a complete stop. Sighing heavily. This was pathetic. She was pathetic.
She dropped to the sand, her knees curling up to her chest. Her head dropped to her knees as she dropped her knife, fighting the urge to throw it into the ocean. Maybe the Kraken would find a better use for it than herself.[/size]