Post by †The Blood Countess† on May 7, 2010 0:35:46 GMT -5
"Her lips were red, her looks were free...her skin was as white as leprosy. The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, who thicks man's blood with cold," The Countess was in a strange mood this evening. Rather than going off on her murderous rampages or terrorizing a few helpless humans, she decided to perch atop the nearest building from her manor and read from a few old poets' works. "Rime of The Ancient Mariner" had always been a favorite of hers; and brushing up on things she used to read was quite refreshing in some manner. After licking her thumb and moistening her fingers, she flipped another delicate page to resume reading.
Let mankind do what they wish this night be it vice centered or not. The werewolves and the weak vampires may prowl freely another night- for now, she was sated by sitting under the dim moonlight with the thick, fresh book held in her left hand. The right hand, however, still gripped the sheathe of Vicious' blade to prepare should someone try the old tactic of sneaking up. While it would seem she had no idea there may be someone watching, that person was a few steps behind her.
"And every soul, it passed me by, like the whizz of my cross-bow."
The sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose, exposing her pale, blue eyes to the words. It would be a lot easier to read without having shades darkening the pages, and they were promptly slid up to rest atop her head.
"I looked upon the rotting deck, and there the dead men lay."
Let mankind do what they wish this night be it vice centered or not. The werewolves and the weak vampires may prowl freely another night- for now, she was sated by sitting under the dim moonlight with the thick, fresh book held in her left hand. The right hand, however, still gripped the sheathe of Vicious' blade to prepare should someone try the old tactic of sneaking up. While it would seem she had no idea there may be someone watching, that person was a few steps behind her.
"And every soul, it passed me by, like the whizz of my cross-bow."
The sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose, exposing her pale, blue eyes to the words. It would be a lot easier to read without having shades darkening the pages, and they were promptly slid up to rest atop her head.
"I looked upon the rotting deck, and there the dead men lay."
