genessia | Backdated to the morning of the 26th [video]/[action]

Entry tags:

Backdated to the morning of the 26th [video]/[action]

[ever since the change, she had spent so long in her apartment, not knowing what to do about it, afraid and entranced by it-- the sensations that she never thought she'd feel again, the hunger, the thirst, air in her lungs and a heart that beat. But after so long, even she couldn't cope with the loneliness.

And so appears on the video, chin lifted, shoulders squared, eyes wary and surprisingly fleshy]

I am looking for something to do for... fun. [she hesitates as she says the word as if she's not said it in a while. Usually she has fun with her familia but as no one is here she feels as she did long ago, unmoored, unattached, uncertain] Or at least something interesting.

[she has no more to say than that and so will leave it there. Later on, however, she will be wondering about Genessia, Attleton or Fayren, a red shawl on her shoulders, nibbling on this or that or catching her reflection in shop windows and staring]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Hahaha! Sure you're all right, Imelda? Haven't been possessed or anything?

Well, take your pick: we might dance, wrestle, sing or recite poetry, or go for a nice, long walk.

[She'll have to bring the leash tho.]

What does that mean? [she narrows her eyes] And I never gave you permission to say my name like that. [not that anyone cares about that around here but her dignity demands se point it out]

I never said I wanted to do anything with you.

Dancing?

No... I'm not a dancer.

[and she never will be again] Nor anything to do with music. [which she should have said, she supposed]

Painting?

That... has merit. Ay, it's been a long time since I painted anything.

[she touches her throat absently and her eyes widen a little as she feels the faint pulse at the base of it and the warmth of her fingertips. She stares at them a moment]

It's so strange.... feeling after all this time.

Ah... is it?

Wanna try a sport instead? Or something more sensual?

Sensual? [that she hadn't considered] Such as?

It means I can leave the exorcist for another time, I hope.

Oh, something wrong with the tone? Well, I like saying it, so we'll have to come to an arrangement. Would you like me to yell it to the rooftops like A Streetcar Named Desire? Something in verse, perhaps?

No, but you implied it very strongly. Unless you're entranced by solitaire, most things are far more fun in company.

I dunno. [Face scrunch.] Sewing? I know that's been a big hit lately. Or uh... swimming, or motorcycling, or aerobics, oh! Or flying!! If you can swing that.

Eh... [she waves a hand] I can do all that in the Land of the Dead.

[she rests her chin on her hand] I want something... more... [that has always been her problem]

I hear that. [Nod.]

Acting. All facial muscles. Oh! Or face painting. Um. And [Scrunches her fingers.] Flower arrangement? Cooking? Playing with food?

Gracias... But don't try so hard, Mija. [she sighs] Perhaps I'll just wander around and something will come up. It's rare that I don't know exactly what I want.

[at least she knows what she doesn't want]

It's Torchwood's motto here. Don't just survive, enjoy it to the fullest.

[a faint smile... and what an interesting sensation to feel the pull of muscle, the lifting of cheeks]

That's impossible for me. At least here without my familia. But I do want to try something. Perhaps...I could get some flowers...

If you must call me anything, call me Señora Rivera, or don't bother. And I implied nothing of the sort. I would rather have either my familia or no one at all.

Sometimes family is found, yeah? But you have to be out there looking, or at least somewhere they can stumble into you. There's a couple flower shops in the cities here, I'm sure they'll be grateful for the business especially considering the time of year. And some gardens and public parks, yeah? And I do yoga every day.

No. No found familia. I have one and it is mine and it is all I'll ever need.

I'm not sure about yoga... [though she knows of it at least] But what park do you recommend I begin with?

Mmm. It's getting a bit cold, and the Everglade parks are weird. Genessia. It's the most normal.

But don't tell Guildmaster Mavis I said that, yeah? She's Fayren's Guardian, and it's gorgeous, mind, but the magic can be a bit much to deal with when you're trying to be relaxing.

Edited 2018-10-27 08:09 (UTC)

He'd managed to get to the oceans before whatever powers he had faltered and he was stuck in the water. But it was nice. There was more room and the salty water made his bones tingle warmly. He'd even managed to come across a rock that he'd been claiming to sun himself on between bouts of something far less pleasant.

The entire time that he'd been in his fishtails, there had been a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach cavity. He'd been hungry in life before, but none of it had felt quick like this. It was painful and took a great deal of effort on his part to ignore. Which, became far more difficult to do when he arrived in Fayren.

Time and time he'd have to dive under the water to keep the songs from coming out of his throat, because, thanks to the Doctor, he knew exactly what the hunger was now. And his voice would spell doom for anyone who heard it now.

And he would have not sung a note, made it through without incident...except that one day he spotted purple.

It was so much like that day in Santa Cecilia. When he looked across the plaza and spotted her. Black hair tied up in an elegant braid. Purple ribbon catching the last light of the sunset. And now, just a she had back then, he'd been drawn to her. Even if the purple was darker and the black now held stripes of white and silver.

He'd pulled himself onto a rock near the shore, watching her pass by with her red shawl. And the hunger roared and instincts tugged; and his voice began to carry across the water. "Todos, me dicen el negro, Llorona. Negro pero...carinoso."

She doesn't know what brings her to wander down to the ocean. There is something about the sea, the water. She can smell it now. Actually smell it. Not the faint impression of a smell or a memory... But the salt of it, hear the rushing waves with the rich quality of life, feel the cold wind prickling over her skin and making her shiver.

Even the sky seems bluer. She clutches her shawl closer to her and then, like a ghost, like the feeling of the sound of shoes on the sound of cobbles in the court yard, a familiar voice rising in the air, that warm tenor catching around her heart which squeezes almost painfully as chills go under her skin.

She stops and turns where she is, seeing him there out in a rock on the water, like a hallucination. Dead, but calling to her.

"Ay de mí, Llorona Llorona,
Llorona, llévame al río
Tápame con tu rebozo, Llorona
Porque me muero de frió"

She can't help but call back, hearing her own voice rising from her throat in ways it hasn't in so long, the movement of her tongue, the heat of her breath in her mouth and the way everything vibrates softly, warming in the hollow of her throat. She's going to him without meaning to.

One foot in the water.

"Ay!" She shuffles back a foot or two as the icy water stings her. It's cold! She shakes her head and squints out at him, wondering what he thinks he's doing, but also wondering if hes' really real. She pushes a strand of hair over her ear and debates saying anything.

He keeps singing as she does begins, the pain in his chest covered by the twist in his stomach. Yet the song doesn't stop...even as he sees her walking into the ocean. Hector can't remember if she knows how to swim, but the sight of her makes him forget.

Then she yells and he quickly shakes himself off, clamping a hand over his mouth as she seemed to stare over at him. "Imelda don't!"

Can she hear his normal voice? Well, he tried anyways. But now he wants to hear her sing again and it is taken so much control to not start singing again. Both hands go over his mouth as he shifts to sit back and balance better, bony tail coming into view and the sun glinting off the gold and emerald marks scattered on the tailbones.

What... is going on?

The tail makes it more confusing and she truly feels as if she's hallucinating. Has eating so much started to disagree with her? She had heard him say don't. But don't what?

If it is him.

"Hector?" she calls out, just to see if he'll reply in a way that makes sense.

As you wish, ms. Rivera.

[Werewolves making strong, Spanish R's are a sound to behold. He figures doing something selfish for pleasure would be too hollow for Halloween. Maybe...]

Mm. Do you like children?

Ay, why is she calling him? Still he waves, keeping the other hand still firmly over his mouth. And leave the eating to him!

He winces and grabs his stomach, looking up at her again. With a frown he looks away, his voice calling over the waves again. Soft and pained, a ragged tone that he could not help but add in.

"La negra noche tendió su manto,
Surgió la niebla, murió la luz.
Y en las tinieblas de mi alma triste
Como una sombra llegaste tú..."

It was a song he had never sung to her, but he had sung it during those fifty years awaiting her return to his arms in the Land of the Dead. He sat up straighter, turning his head to look at her. She looked as had when she died, he could tell clearly now. His Reyna de Morado.

"Ven, ilumina la árida senda
Por donde vaga loca ilusión
Dame tan solo una esperanza
Que fortifique mi corazón."

The spell wrapped around the words, calling out to her to be his light. To pull him from shadows and let him hope. Even if it was only an illusion, the words spoke, she'd always been fire after all.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Backdated to the morning of the 26th [video]/[action]

Video

Video

video

video

video

video

video

video

Re: Video

video

video

video

video

video

video

Re: Video

Re: video

video

Re: video

Action || Fayren

Action || Fayren

Re: Action || Fayren

Action || Fayren

Re: Video

Re: Action || Fayren