noir:
fan fiction Dedicated 2: Jenna
Weapons in hand, two fallen angels prowl about the poetically pronounced Parisian streets. Hunting as they will, in an agreement of blood for money, and ironically not a drop would ever touch the ground, there would be not one ill spilled blemish of life carrying crimson . . . if indeed they were alive at all.
In silence, two beauties in the night plotted the deaths of those with no names, just as destiny had told them. Living in a lie that they may one day discover the truth; (through) . . . the meeting of eyes from behind and in front of the sights gave no answers. With eyes that indeed betray the nature of their career, they would seduce the hearts of even their victims.
They would be but two obsidian strings, woven together upon a delicate loom of destiny. And from out of the shadows, came a child, brandishing a 1934 manufactured instrument of Italian fury. Descending from above, would be a fair haired damsel, wielding one of the brain children of the famous Carl Walther Waffenabrik.
Even the ruthless, underworld tactics of a brutal princess with lavender hair, would wither in the wake of the governess of death. For what else could truly define destiny, but the shattering of an ancient blade upon a tender abdomen.
Into the black night, disappeared the two maidens that governed death.
fan fiction Dedicated 2: Jenna
Weapons in hand, two fallen angels prowl about the poetically pronounced Parisian streets. Hunting as they will, in an agreement of blood for money, and ironically not a drop would ever touch the ground, there would be not one ill spilled blemish of life carrying crimson . . . if indeed they were alive at all.
In silence, two beauties in the night plotted the deaths of those with no names, just as destiny had told them. Living in a lie that they may one day discover the truth; (through) . . . the meeting of eyes from behind and in front of the sights gave no answers. With eyes that indeed betray the nature of their career, they would seduce the hearts of even their victims.
They would be but two obsidian strings, woven together upon a delicate loom of destiny. And from out of the shadows, came a child, brandishing a 1934 manufactured instrument of Italian fury. Descending from above, would be a fair haired damsel, wielding one of the brain children of the famous Carl Walther Waffenabrik.
Even the ruthless, underworld tactics of a brutal princess with lavender hair, would wither in the wake of the governess of death. For what else could truly define destiny, but the shattering of an ancient blade upon a tender abdomen.
Into the black night, disappeared the two maidens that governed death.