Difference between revisions of "Celandine"
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<div class="header">Appearance</div> | <div class="header">Appearance</div> | ||
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| + | Shifting strands of deep auburn through golden-copper, the whole of her hair is the color of burning autumn leaves, wild and rich with red fire. Framed by it, her face is a sculpted oval of bisque porcelain, gold dusted with freckles across the sculpted cheekbones and regal nose. She has a finely shaped mouth with a deeply bowed upper lip, and a determined jawline and chin. | ||
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| + | But it's Celandine's eyes that dominate the whole. Gabled by straight, slender and severe dark brows, they are huge, heavy-lidded and sensationally lashed. And bedded between the dark, curling lashes burns killer blues with a natural glare fit to set someone's head aflame. | ||
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| + | She's dressed in a boy's black t-shirt, thoroughly shrunken, a thin gray V-necked pullover purchased by the half-dozen from some prep school supplier, and a new and oversized pair of black 501's, every trademark carefully removed. Even the buttons on these have been ground flat and featureless. She's a design-free zone, a one-woman school of anti. | ||
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Revision as of 13:49, 21 October 2022
- Get the opposition to oblige
- But after that see it's supernatural
- Battle ready and we all rise
- Smoke screens, black magic
Chicago musical ~ Cell Block Tango
- So, I said to him, I said, "You pop that gum, one more time"
- And he did.
- So I took the shotgun off the wall,
- And I fired two warning shots.
- In. To. His. Head.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus sit amet nibh nec ante pulvinar tristique. Mauris varius dui pulvinar, congue arcu vel, sagittis dolor. Proin tempor id odio eget rhoncus. In ac massa felis. Praesent eu dolor vel dui eleifend luctus. Morbi rhoncus, quam quis cursus cursus, ante turpis tempus est, et gravida quam dolor sed arcu. Etiam eu ornare tellus. Fusce consequat dignissim lacus, et efficitur eros varius ut. Praesent efficitur, ex ac viverra vehicula, ante tellus elementum quam, id tempor purus tortor ac urna.
In interdum sed ex semper malesuada. In euismod risus ut leo malesuada consectetur. Aenean viverra bibendum facilisis. Phasellus et fringilla lorem. In imperdiet lorem orci, vitae tristique ligula lobortis non. Sed tempor faucibus mi, vitae tempor tortor vulputate eget. Nunc at nisi scelerisque, convallis quam eget, lobortis velit. Nam sit amet vestibulum mauris. Aliquam ac ante massa. Phasellus id purus vitae justo accumsan scelerisque et dignissim urna. Nam tempor aliquet nulla, et vulputate leo ultrices ullamcorper. Aliquam nec neque luctus elit dictum tincidunt ut in magna. Nam non mauris dapibus, placerat ante sit amet, consectetur ipsum. Integer eget imperdiet lorem, nec luctus justo.
Shifting strands of deep auburn through golden-copper, the whole of her hair is the color of burning autumn leaves, wild and rich with red fire. Framed by it, her face is a sculpted oval of bisque porcelain, gold dusted with freckles across the sculpted cheekbones and regal nose. She has a finely shaped mouth with a deeply bowed upper lip, and a determined jawline and chin.
But it's Celandine's eyes that dominate the whole. Gabled by straight, slender and severe dark brows, they are huge, heavy-lidded and sensationally lashed. And bedded between the dark, curling lashes burns killer blues with a natural glare fit to set someone's head aflame.
She's dressed in a boy's black t-shirt, thoroughly shrunken, a thin gray V-necked pullover purchased by the half-dozen from some prep school supplier, and a new and oversized pair of black 501's, every trademark carefully removed. Even the buttons on these have been ground flat and featureless. She's a design-free zone, a one-woman school of anti.
- Mortal
- Truth
- Truth
- Supernatural
- Truth
- Truth
- Lie
“If they ask how I died, tell them: still ͘͘͘▀͘͘͘angry.” ― Richard K. Morgan, Altered Carbon
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