emeli mortuus.|| D12 || FIN {CB}

emeli.

{Eh-Meh-Lie}. 

"This was the house of no one at all, no one who breathed, nor laughed, nor ate.

Nor said "I love"

Nor said "I hate"

Yet something walked along the stair

Something that was, and wasn't there."

    A girl with obsidian locks pressed against the moister of her cheeks. She paces through a district of smog and destruction. Her pale bronze skin burning with each huff that leaves her brittle lips. Within her eye is a flutter of fear, a spiral of discomfort, and a lack of morality. Within her voice is that of lies, that of manipulation, and that of want for approval.

    She lusts for a voice to call for her love, but is met with only demand. Her neck hung over for she strives to meet the requirements for any ideal of perfection. Her wrists are torn and stained crimson, for the itch beneath her skin was cause of self consciousness. Anxiety had overtaken her, consumed her, caused the beds of her nails to be burred with the flesh of her worries.

    A ring from a voice that stutters out venom. She would gain the coin of those with guns, for their demand was for her to fulfill. An older copy of herself was her highest bidder, though they were anything but similar. She longed to be desired, to lead, but only shivers of disappointment, and glares of disobedience weighted her shoulders.

    The plunge of a syringe, and the beeping of a monitor fulfilled the symphony within her skull. She was a translucent angel, sent to give those that came to her hope for survival, but in reality she and all of her sisters where gliding above these corpses assaulted with trickery. Their beaks foaming with want for blood. The rivers run thick with boiling scarlet, but when two hearts thunder the same, there is no stopping how much they can, and will gain.