~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"HeartAche, Is She Available?"
On Graymalkin Lane, just outside the suburb of New York village of Salem Center stands a vast and sprawling estate that in recent years has been known by many names but which has remained like it's owners -- to a *single* purpose. *
Casse continued slowly down the quiet lane, not caring a lick if anyone looked at her. So what if she was a person who looked more like they'd be found in a dark corner by attitude or on a street corner but the fitting and content of what her clothes covered -or more likely what they left completely uncovered or covered all too well- and ah, well, fuck it. If they had a problem with her being in their space, they could take it up with her and see how she handled people she didn't like in her space.
Her skates cause minimal noise if any at all on the black ground as her pace was more that of a normal skater now or a modest speed skater. She had no wish to arrive any faster than she had to at the Castle of the Damned. Scoot down, bend knees, and jump. Pot hole to the left, bump in the road to the right. Make a turn and lean in with it, like Dazzie taught you so long ago, throw your weight the opposite direction at the same time and make it sharp clean movements that don't' disrupt the flow even if the ground under you changes without warning. A soft sigh escaped her lips. It was all the same still. It was as it should be…as it would be.
HeartAche. A feeling. A name. It'd been that long. It'd been years since she'd come and gone. The ashes and graves without markers. They bore proud the breasts and hearts which lay beneath them torn asunder by time. Proud mother and gentle child. Two of the many who lay in the scattered ground. All those of love, and yet only two who mattered so much. It'd never been at all yet.
Rejar's not here this time. I wish….a soft part of the back of her mind prickled saying No. If he was here she could run into his arms and forget Jennifer Marie had told her to go, forget Bel had told her to go and so had HE- atleast for a few months or years. You could always twist him and yet he knew how to twist you back at the same second. Physical passion could be a bitch to deal with, just like physical hangovers. Sex was good though. Sex was definitely a plus when it came to him.
HeartAche. A right name, for a right time, for the right girl in all the wrong places at all the wrong times when she decided it was her right. And what are you doing now? She asks herself of course. Short Translation? Going to the wrong place at the wrong time because it's supposed to be something of a right from someone else. Long translation and this time in english? I'm looking for a colossal mistake and a huge metal, emotional and physical crash- mind if I borrow your damned castle and your damned legions and fuck myself over?
Her feet began the curve and the smell of the grass was more than familiar and the air seemed to change for her. It wasn't right. It wasn't. She shouldn't be doing this. Not now, not here. She raised her eyes for the first time, the color of them a sallow sapphire set in her face, almost like they were trembling by themselves set in the egg shell face which demanded no change or emotional showing ever. The shine of the gates standing erect on the freshly cut and manipulated lawn caught her eyes before she was even though.
SpellSong swerved into the path of the gate slowly before raising her eyes again. They crossed the lawn, oceans of green under her nose, barely even noticed and yet ever blade of grass still accounted for in those bright dark eyes as they widened slowly, her hand going quietly to her locket as they found the castle before her. Her mind was drowned out by the onslaught of all that was buried and in upheaval on sight.
On Graymalkin Lane, just outside the suburb of New York village of Salem Center stands a vast and sprawling estate that in recent years has been known by many names but which has remained like it's owners -- to a *single* purpose. It is home to a team of hero's called the X-Men. They are mutants, born with powers and abilities that set them apart from the general run of humanity that too often fear and hate them. Against all odds and occasionally even common sense, these young people choose to stand as the worlds *defenders*.**
taggerz only if seen
* and ** copy write Marvel Comics, X-men.
"HeartAche, Is She Available?"
On Graymalkin Lane, just outside the suburb of New York village of Salem Center stands a vast and sprawling estate that in recent years has been known by many names but which has remained like it's owners -- to a *single* purpose. *
Casse continued slowly down the quiet lane, not caring a lick if anyone looked at her. So what if she was a person who looked more like they'd be found in a dark corner by attitude or on a street corner but the fitting and content of what her clothes covered -or more likely what they left completely uncovered or covered all too well- and ah, well, fuck it. If they had a problem with her being in their space, they could take it up with her and see how she handled people she didn't like in her space.
Her skates cause minimal noise if any at all on the black ground as her pace was more that of a normal skater now or a modest speed skater. She had no wish to arrive any faster than she had to at the Castle of the Damned. Scoot down, bend knees, and jump. Pot hole to the left, bump in the road to the right. Make a turn and lean in with it, like Dazzie taught you so long ago, throw your weight the opposite direction at the same time and make it sharp clean movements that don't' disrupt the flow even if the ground under you changes without warning. A soft sigh escaped her lips. It was all the same still. It was as it should be…as it would be.
HeartAche. A feeling. A name. It'd been that long. It'd been years since she'd come and gone. The ashes and graves without markers. They bore proud the breasts and hearts which lay beneath them torn asunder by time. Proud mother and gentle child. Two of the many who lay in the scattered ground. All those of love, and yet only two who mattered so much. It'd never been at all yet.
Rejar's not here this time. I wish….a soft part of the back of her mind prickled saying No. If he was here she could run into his arms and forget Jennifer Marie had told her to go, forget Bel had told her to go and so had HE- atleast for a few months or years. You could always twist him and yet he knew how to twist you back at the same second. Physical passion could be a bitch to deal with, just like physical hangovers. Sex was good though. Sex was definitely a plus when it came to him.
HeartAche. A right name, for a right time, for the right girl in all the wrong places at all the wrong times when she decided it was her right. And what are you doing now? She asks herself of course. Short Translation? Going to the wrong place at the wrong time because it's supposed to be something of a right from someone else. Long translation and this time in english? I'm looking for a colossal mistake and a huge metal, emotional and physical crash- mind if I borrow your damned castle and your damned legions and fuck myself over?
Her feet began the curve and the smell of the grass was more than familiar and the air seemed to change for her. It wasn't right. It wasn't. She shouldn't be doing this. Not now, not here. She raised her eyes for the first time, the color of them a sallow sapphire set in her face, almost like they were trembling by themselves set in the egg shell face which demanded no change or emotional showing ever. The shine of the gates standing erect on the freshly cut and manipulated lawn caught her eyes before she was even though.
SpellSong swerved into the path of the gate slowly before raising her eyes again. They crossed the lawn, oceans of green under her nose, barely even noticed and yet ever blade of grass still accounted for in those bright dark eyes as they widened slowly, her hand going quietly to her locket as they found the castle before her. Her mind was drowned out by the onslaught of all that was buried and in upheaval on sight.
On Graymalkin Lane, just outside the suburb of New York village of Salem Center stands a vast and sprawling estate that in recent years has been known by many names but which has remained like it's owners -- to a *single* purpose. It is home to a team of hero's called the X-Men. They are mutants, born with powers and abilities that set them apart from the general run of humanity that too often fear and hate them. Against all odds and occasionally even common sense, these young people choose to stand as the worlds *defenders*.**
taggerz only if seen
* and ** copy write Marvel Comics, X-men.
