ameliacrowley

[ameliacrowley]

The forest was tremendous, foggy and blooming. Its canopy was reigned by rhododendron, magnolia, and redwood. Cascading lights counting between leaves allowed for a mosaic of herbs to claim the boulder covered grounds below. Bundles branches waves from many trees and a medley of flowers, which were found in the quietest places, added some bright touches to the otherwise brown view. Creepers dangle from most trees and a range of flowers, scattered sporadically, protruded from the otherwise monotonous bark. A clamor of noises, which were caused by critters, reverberated through the air; accompanied by the rustling of the leaves and branches of the treetops in the wind. Birds formed a chaotic orchestra with the sounds of fight over dominance between larger animals.

In the middle, a lush field of grass is contoured by numerous hedges and flower bushes. A lone ornamental piece stands dead center which evokes the image of an animal, a lion. The smaller flower bushes try to take all the attention in this garden and succeed to a large extent; their own unique, miniature world. The hedges reach nearly seven feet high, the same as the lion, but they will eventually grow at least twice as large if left to their own. A couple messages carved on stones are spread around the garden, names of people in passing and those soon to be forgotten within the mystic wonderland. Grass and plants seem to refuse to try and claim more land than they’ve been allocated, perhaps thanks to some intervention. The ornamental piece eternally beckons all visitors, drawing all attention towards it. The smaller flower bushes make sure they’re paid attention to as well, and the hedges and flower bushes are hard to miss, but there’s no way to win when the garden is designed with the focus on the lion.

And in the middle of it all, bewildered by the masterpiece stood a rather large man adorned in plate armor. A rounded helm with half a squared face guard with two squared openings for the eyes. His shoulders were pointy, long and quite large. They’re decorated with layered, spiky pieces of metal, ending in two sharp spikes facing outwards and downwards. His upper arms are protected by pointed, fully covered rerebraces which sit perfectly under the shoulder plates. The lower arms covered by vambraces which have a row of hook-like barbs attached to each outer side. His breastplate is made from various layers of rounded metal sheets, covering almost everything from the neck down and ending at the groin, though the sides are only covered near the bottom. His upper legs are covered by rounded, layered metal cuisses. The lower legs are protected by greaves which have a later of chainmail covering the outer sides.

A man of important, surely, lured to this very specific spot. A man that will come into play soon enough.

For you see, he was being stalked. Following the crude imprints, his heavy armor left behind in the wetted space of moss and rocks as he traveled. A small female wearing what was once a dress, now torn and dirt stained shadow of its former self, only barely able to hang from her shoulders like a discarded old towel. A big piece had been ripped from the right side, holes littering its entirety; leaving much exposed to the elements. She wore a fur scarf around her neck wrapped around her face to just below the eyes. Its odd and worn, but otherwise in a good condition. And as she spoke, her voice was no different. A worn down rasp of what was once a vibrant and beautiful voice to be sure, withered with time and loss into nothing more than a scar of what she once was.

“Are you there, my love?”

“I am…”

“Are you sad?”

“I am…”

“What does it feel like?”

“...The end…”

And as she pushed through the brush, the weeds and the undertow of the forest into that clearing, once more that man came into view. How he stood with a single hand planted so firmly against the lion that sat there in the middle. How his mere presence radiated sheer memory of a time and place once gone. A moment of silence broken by that rasp of hers which barely broke through the natural sounds of the forest.

“Have you forgotten us yet?”

Words that caused pause in his actions, his body numbing of everything that once was to instead turn cold as the very stone he adored. “You are still known, though I do try to forget.” Words much more confident, prominent than her own that easily broke through the bustle of the surrounding area. Only a moment more did he linger there against the stone before turning to face the woman, eyes meeting with her own in a momentary solence of sorrow and remembrance. “Why have you led me here, Lia? Why bring me to the place of our childhood, where we played, dressed in the same thing you wore then? Why do you hide away and only strike when no other soul is around to condemn you for your acts? Is this where you wish to die? Have you brought me here so I can finally put an end to you, you filthy monster? You were once beauty, and now you are nothing more than a monster. Evil and devious in all given ways.”

“...And now the curtain rises…”

With that same hooded gaze, she made careful steps towards the man. Each was equally as poised and elegant as the last, almost on par with the grace and beauty of a trained dancer. Each as quiet and soft as the foliage around here, without a single extra sound to disturb the tranquility of the garden. Steps that led her mere inches from the man, bodies so close that the heat from her own stained fog across the cold plating her wore. “You’ve awoken something deep inside me and for once, I feel inspired. A lust for a particular art that was caged away many years ago… And my dear brother, art requires certain cruelty.” As she spoke a single hand lingered upwards, the very tips of her fingers caressing along the plated cheek of his helm. “I am misunderstood, beauty can’t be evil and I never hurt anyone. It is nothing more than themselves that kill.” Her fingers traced downwards until the very ends of her digits wrapped along the edge of that helm, carefully pulling it from her head to simply discard off to the side. All the while, her free hand went to do the same, pulling that worn fur scarf from around her face to reveal a scared mess of a face. One worn and tattered nearly as much so as her dress. “Art is such a fickle thing; smiles and screams -- I bring both.” A single one of her hands then fled back upwards, callused skin that yet seemed still so pristine running along the blackened stubble peppers along his cut jawline. “You will be poetry, you will be beautiful… And I want to feel everything. I will make you famous… Now sing for me!”

Words that came harsher than the rest, words that pressed on and silenced near every other sound that echoed throughout that forest. A voice that cawed nearly as loud as the single gunshot that rang out. His eyes widened, trailing down to peer between the two towards crimson that started to trickle down the entry wound along his lower abdomen. Nevermind the splattered of that crimson paint now staining the statue behind him. Crimson that stained her very fingers as the gun fell to the ground and instead digits found their way into the wound; each cut and near sliced to the bone by the jagged fragments of torn metal and plate. “I have been planning your final performance for a very… long… time. When they find you, they will cry! I -live- for the applause… And you will die for it.”  As those fingers pressed deeper into that wound and the flesh of both parties ripped, the male started to shiver; trembles of adrenaline coursing through his veins, through every last inch of his body, giving him just enough fight through the pain to the knock the hand away from his face and instead wrap each of his meaty digits around her lithe throat.

“I have risen through the filth and muck!” She hissed as he lifted her from the very ground she stood on, fingers torn to the very tips as they were pulled from within that wound. “I -am- beauty. No poets words as your own could match my craft! This… Is my love!” Each word coming harsher than the last, training each breath she had only to struggle in pulling another back in. And yet from him, came nothing. Nothing more than the wheezing of pain that he fought from crippling him. The anguished groan of life, forcing him to cling one for the coming moments that would allow him to finish off and rid the world of this monster. The monster he had created. All the while she did what she could to fight against it, flailing. Screaming, kicking, like caged animal lost in the moments of fear before entrapment.

Moments of struggle that faded into her favor with every passing moment. Struggles that allowed her to claspe bloodied and torn fingers to either side of his shoulder, struggles that fight her way closer to him, pulling through every moment of her own excitement and pain until lips met with his already so cold throat. Simple moments in time that allowed her to sink her teeth into the flesh and fickle muscle and tare away the last thing keeping him from the intending darkness. The gruesome sounds of his windpipe being crushed and torn from where it rest, hinted with the gurgles of blood that filled his lungs instead. Moments that led to him finally falling limp against the very statue that kept him there, dropping her to the ground. The smell of crimson that gagged even her as she lay there on hands and knees, gasping to catch breaths wasted away.

As she pulled herself from the dirt, sitting before this masterpiece she had created of the purest of paints, she sighed; shoulders dropping as subtle ease took over. Her eyes wandered to her blood-soaked hands, following the flowing river as it cascaded down along the silver plate, ending at a blackened void of what was once a throat. “Life has no meaning… But your death shall… The end is important in all things.” Words that feel near lost amongst the sounds of the garden which soon enough returned to their deafening screams. “Everyone wears a mask, Rhett… I just chose to create my own… And behind every mask, is another mask. Only to the audience do I show my true face. But that raises the question, dear brother… Which is the lie -- the mask or my face? I have a thirst for melodrama and until they stop me, I will keep going.” She dug her lax fingers into the dirt and pulled herself along the ground, a rather wide and wicked grin forming as she rests against the statue as well; her back against the fine pointed line of the lions base with a single hand lifted, catching stray droplets of crimson that dripped from the fine points of that lifeless bodies fingers.

With cupped hands that pool of blood was brought upwards, better allowing her to see into it, to see the reflection of the last remaining of her line. To see his face forever caught in those final moments. “You wanted to kill me back then, didn’t you? You helped lock me away, you tried to stop my work. You will learn… We cannot be killed. We cannot be contained.” The thickening paint within her fingers slowed as droplets stopped defacing the rocks and grass below. “We were good… But I wonder what they think when they see me.”

“We cannot be good, we must be perfection. Every element must be in place. We are a slave to this passion. This art… Is a compulsion -- We cannot resist it. There is nothing for us, but this. We swear each performance is the last… But we lie every time. We can’t live without the euphoria of performance. That delightful moment before the curtain goes up. The ecstasy of opening night… Mmm the ecstasy of killing.”

“Beauty is pain. The moment before the shot is painful. Each bullet is a piece of our soul -- each shot if a piece of us. Bliss comes only in the moment before we fire… Is it only when the gun fires that I am alive. How wonderful.”

“...And now the curtain rises…”

[ameliacrowley]

OOC Note; This is the first tumblr I’ve made that I plan on sticking with as time goes on. As my first post, I would like to welcome anyone who happens to come along and of course a big thank you if you plan on following! Going to try to make it as interesting as I can with art, stories and all sorts of goodies! Any suggestions or anything like that, please let me know so I can make this experience better for everyone!