HOME | DD

Description
Fear was an unusually palpable emotion; not bitter like the sea upon the tongue, nor sweet like the grape from the vine. Not so tart as the tang of the apple, the pucker of the lemon, nor as satisfying as the wholesomeness of warm bread. No, it lacked flavor, a luster born of poison that slaked the lust of so few -

Not enough and everything at once, like copper it crossed the threshold of blood, but never held to the same peak. Pale fingers twisted, heels striking over asphalt through the damp. Water sloshed, though knew better than to touch.

"You're so arrogant as to take my name..." The tone was... reproachful, almost pitying, almost angry and curious. Slick smile, white teeth, he didn't know what he was dealing with. Something older, something eldritch, that didn't stop him from beckoning with gnarled knuckles.
"And who are you?" Amused and thick with want, the desire to rend and tear the papery flesh of the man before him, with his dark cloak and strange cane. Wolf's head, with a bizarre snarl that warped, and eyes that gleamed in the buzzing blue light above.

"I think the better question is, who do you think you are?" Several cracks echoed, breaking bones, but really turning vertebra. His neck turned, rolled on his shoulders, silvery strands of hair catching the eerie glow. "To think you can escape from me, in such a small, conceded, ugly world." He blinked, he was there, right in front of him. His pupil widened, a wheezing exhale escaped, but a cold palm cupped his chin through white leather.

Amber. Ravenous, the hungry beast stretched open it's maw, sharp canines filed upwards into a grin that stole his own. The light gave a droning hiss, reality, his head spinning, and clarity came crashing down. Not fair, not fair, not fair. He bent the rules, this monster, whose laugh followed him down, down, down, right through his inner reaches.

"Iratus est furor eius nocte, et osculatus est furor virtutem, et furata est eum de luce matutina ..."

Description
Fear was an unusually palpable emotion; not bitter like the sea upon the tongue, nor sweet like the grape from the vine. Not so tart as the tang of the apple, the pucker of the lemon, nor as satisfying as the wholesomeness of warm bread. No, it lacked flavor, a luster born of poison that slaked the lust of so few -

Not enough and everything at once, like copper it crossed the threshold of blood, but never held to the same peak. Pale fingers twisted, heels striking over asphalt through the damp. Water sloshed, though knew better than to touch.

"You're so arrogant as to take my name..." The tone was... reproachful, almost pitying, almost angry and curious. Slick smile, white teeth, he didn't know what he was dealing with. Something older, something eldritch, that didn't stop him from beckoning with gnarled knuckles.
"And who are you?" Amused and thick with want, the desire to rend and tear the papery flesh of the man before him, with his dark cloak and strange cane. Wolf's head, with a bizarre snarl that warped, and eyes that gleamed in the buzzing blue light above.

"I think the better question is, who do you think you are?" Several cracks echoed, breaking bones, but really turning vertebra. His neck turned, rolled on his shoulders, silvery strands of hair catching the eerie glow. "To think you can escape from me, in such a small, conceded, ugly world." He blinked, he was there, right in front of him. His pupil widened, a wheezing exhale escaped, but a cold palm cupped his chin through white leather.

Amber. Ravenous, the hungry beast stretched open it's maw, sharp canines filed upwards into a grin that stole his own. The light gave a droning hiss, reality, his head spinning, and clarity came crashing down. Not fair, not fair, not fair. He bent the rules, this monster, whose laugh followed him down, down, down, right through his inner reaches.

"Iratus est furor eius nocte, et osculatus est furor virtutem, et furata est eum de luce matutina ..."