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Deadfoot: DeathDeathDeadfoot: Death
The quiet was permeating and solid, moving about beneath the trees in total calm. The stillness of the air silenced all that was about, the unnatural foreboding of such had long since removed any fauna from the trees. They had not left for simple lack of food or abundance of predators, no, it was simply too quiet for any animal to stay, only a man would venture into such an area. And a man we have. Simply dressed, he moved against the utter calm of the orchard, disturbing the complete stillness of the area.
Around him the rain was deafening. The impacts of the small drops on the leaves and branches brought him
by ~BLAHOrblah
Deadfoot: DemitasseDemitasseDeadfoot: Demitasse
A small gloved hand wrapped around a wool covered arm, the rein to the woman next to him. Tucked beneath that wool rode a yellow envelope, emblazoned with a red wax seal. A deft motion slid it back into its place, secure for the night. The sharp click of a woman's boots, swishing beneath a long cream skirt and white petticoat mixed with the dull thump of her suitor's own boots. The dark brown offsetting the pearly, cream white; both colors falling upon the sullen grey cobblestone. The footsteps echoed purpose and direction. They were set to a sharp, distinct pace. Crossing the street quickly, the boots arrived at a smal
by ~BLAHOrblah
Deadfoot: DichotomyDichotomyDeadfoot: Dichotomy
A small orange circle burned in the warm snowfall. The ash flicked from the cigarette end floating on the small breeze that pushed its snowy brethren about with it. Coming away from pursed lips, the cigarette fell to a side, then to the snow covered ground, burning slowly in the gloomy night-haze. The pursed lips were again covered by the soft blue bandana, ducked into an orange peel, white striped shirt collar, which was all underneath a leather longcoat, the right sleeve forcibly removed, the same orange peel, white striped shirt visible through the hole. What was peculiar about the rest of the hole was not the fact t
by ~BLAHOrblah
DeadfootDeadfootDeadfoot
A plod of hooves in the soft pink sands of the desert rang out into the cool, dark, still night. The only thing stirring here in the most miserable of lands, accompanying the rhythmic hooves as they carried their charge deeper into the godforsaken land were was the sweet brushing of the cold desert night wind. A soft ruffle of horse tail and parched leather danced with the gentle stroking from unrelenting, dust-carrying breeze. However, his mouth was covered by the simplest of dampened cloths, a necessity to his survival.
The pair of rider and man passed a simple green sign. The words having long faded or wo
by ~BLAHOrblah
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Project Blog
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The dragon has spoken......
The darkness is chained inside by the light, If the light fades the chains will crumble, and the Black Dragon will rise from the ashes of the light.
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"Pity and compassion are privileges reserved for the strong." - Vino, Baccano!
Therefore, you suck.
I was here first!
Wazzup? :3
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