General of the Dark [-Open-]
Feb 26, 2016 13:31:00 GMT -7
Post by Gizelle Monnsionius on Feb 26, 2016 13:31:00 GMT -7
There was a soft bubbling sound that permeated through the dimly lit foyer. The innards of the store were small, cozy, and organized. There was not a book or paper that was unkempt from being with their brothers and sisters. The shelves were dusted on a near daily basis. And in the corner of the small room was a hearth that was always ablaze. If it were not for the storekeeper, then the store would probably be the most inviting place in town. It would sure be a safer place than those despicable bars and inns. At the very thought of those locations, Gizelle could simply only guffaw. She tended to stay well away from places like those. They promoted the worst in the human code. She had found a drunk man was a very susceptible man. He needn't charms from a woman to coax them into her bed. Just hand a willing man a flagon of ale. Her jaw clenched at the very thought. And she felt a hot rising anger begin to swell deep inside her blackened soul. She had survived this long without giving up much. For if these people uncovered her true motivations, then they would learn that she was one one of their kind. In fact she resented the species that currently resided around her. Surrounding her. Ultimately poisoning the air that she was forced to breathe. She averted her eyes from the customers that were perusing her wares. Her pale grey eyes disappearing beneath...
Thankfully her books were what made her appear normal. Of course should much prefer the ancient readings of the demonic and that of Merek: A Diminutive Collaboration of the Dark Arts. These human books were boorish and outlandish. She found the countless tales of bravery and camaraderie sickening. These polluted creatures claiming to know great riches and glory. What did they know about honor? If she had a soul to smile, then she would certainly have found that amusing. But alas, her soul was as dead as the demon that currently claimed home in this vessel. Nothing inside of her was alive. It had all decayed and became decrepit long ago. And as she let her human thoughts wander, seemingly bouncing around in her mind, the voices of her customers carried over to where she was sitting comfortably. They were looking for a certain remedy. She had lost count of how many times she had caught herself spying on them from the edge of her book. There were a man and a woman. From how they addressed each other, and their continuous hand-holding, they were a unit. A couple. It was this instance that gave them a certain aura. Gizelle, at one point during they stay, had let their appearance be much sought after by her dull grey eyes. She even had licked her upper lip from the concealment of her book. She could think of many ways that would prove useful. Perhaps she would preserve them. Maybe a meal.
She was forced to lick her lip at the thought of consuming their energies. But instead let her eyes fall to the words on their page. It was then that her fingers danced lightly along the hidden compartment of her blouse. She had personally sewn an extra pouch inside to ensure the safety of her special drink. She was designing other more intuitive ways to distribute her alluring chemicals. So far she had not needed to use the hidden stash. But one never knew amongst the unpredictability of this life. She had found the human behavior to be volatile. Oftentimes predictable. As predictable as a drunk man who lusted over a woman. To keep him warm at night. And with that Gizelle felt her nostril flare outright. Despicable, greedy little creatures. Her eyes wavered over to the male. She folded her book in her lap, keeping her place, sitting as straight as a statue, and formally drinking in his own posture from across the room. They seemed... happy. At least she thought that was what happiness looked like. Her eyes traveled between the two. She could sense the bond. It was strong, almost indomitable. She noticed the fingers interlaced and she clenched her jaw. The muscles in her cheeks becoming stiff. A strong distaste finally began to emerge. The love these creatures shared was thickening. It was polluting the air in her store. The sooner they left, then the better it would be. But still they perused, taking their time.
It was here that the woman finally looked up. Her own eyes meeting that of Gizelle, and the smile fading all at once. But Gizelle did not move one ounce of demeanor. And with a simple tug of her lover's sleeve, the man soon turned. He looked directly at Gizelle, then moved to kiss the top of his lover's head, who pressed herself inside his chest. Must be nice. He began to move in her direction. Gizelle sat perfectly still as they were upon her. He brushed the countertop with his fingertips, then making his fingers disappear in the side coat of his dress jacket. Gizelle watched those fingers as they moved across her countertop, then were altogether claimed by his jacket. She sat perfectly still. He began to form words. Silk and smooth. Proper. They were educated. Perhaps little lordlings. That caused a slight smile to twitch in her cheeks. How pleasant these two were. Maybe they would have dignified class. He professed his interest in a certain brand of drink. Gizelle listened intently. Her eyes moving from his lush face to the girl's more discreet and innocent pout. A small twitch in Gizelle's right cheek. Then the girl made her face disappear in his side. "Perhaps what you are looking for is something to give the little lady some more courage." she answered instead of giving the man what he needed. The man instead let out a small laugh as he kissed the top of her head. Quaint.
"Don't mind her," he simply said, "she is often wary of strangers. Especially those of the equal sex."
That caused Gizelle to stare long and hard at the girl. As her eyes returned to his handsome face. Then Gizelle simply pointed her eyes at the far shelf nearest the counter. "I keep them alphabetical. For your convenience." she said almost coldly. The man dipped his head and at once they made their way. It was as they turned that Gizelle found herself smiling.
Thankfully her books were what made her appear normal. Of course should much prefer the ancient readings of the demonic and that of Merek: A Diminutive Collaboration of the Dark Arts. These human books were boorish and outlandish. She found the countless tales of bravery and camaraderie sickening. These polluted creatures claiming to know great riches and glory. What did they know about honor? If she had a soul to smile, then she would certainly have found that amusing. But alas, her soul was as dead as the demon that currently claimed home in this vessel. Nothing inside of her was alive. It had all decayed and became decrepit long ago. And as she let her human thoughts wander, seemingly bouncing around in her mind, the voices of her customers carried over to where she was sitting comfortably. They were looking for a certain remedy. She had lost count of how many times she had caught herself spying on them from the edge of her book. There were a man and a woman. From how they addressed each other, and their continuous hand-holding, they were a unit. A couple. It was this instance that gave them a certain aura. Gizelle, at one point during they stay, had let their appearance be much sought after by her dull grey eyes. She even had licked her upper lip from the concealment of her book. She could think of many ways that would prove useful. Perhaps she would preserve them. Maybe a meal.
She was forced to lick her lip at the thought of consuming their energies. But instead let her eyes fall to the words on their page. It was then that her fingers danced lightly along the hidden compartment of her blouse. She had personally sewn an extra pouch inside to ensure the safety of her special drink. She was designing other more intuitive ways to distribute her alluring chemicals. So far she had not needed to use the hidden stash. But one never knew amongst the unpredictability of this life. She had found the human behavior to be volatile. Oftentimes predictable. As predictable as a drunk man who lusted over a woman. To keep him warm at night. And with that Gizelle felt her nostril flare outright. Despicable, greedy little creatures. Her eyes wavered over to the male. She folded her book in her lap, keeping her place, sitting as straight as a statue, and formally drinking in his own posture from across the room. They seemed... happy. At least she thought that was what happiness looked like. Her eyes traveled between the two. She could sense the bond. It was strong, almost indomitable. She noticed the fingers interlaced and she clenched her jaw. The muscles in her cheeks becoming stiff. A strong distaste finally began to emerge. The love these creatures shared was thickening. It was polluting the air in her store. The sooner they left, then the better it would be. But still they perused, taking their time.
It was here that the woman finally looked up. Her own eyes meeting that of Gizelle, and the smile fading all at once. But Gizelle did not move one ounce of demeanor. And with a simple tug of her lover's sleeve, the man soon turned. He looked directly at Gizelle, then moved to kiss the top of his lover's head, who pressed herself inside his chest. Must be nice. He began to move in her direction. Gizelle sat perfectly still as they were upon her. He brushed the countertop with his fingertips, then making his fingers disappear in the side coat of his dress jacket. Gizelle watched those fingers as they moved across her countertop, then were altogether claimed by his jacket. She sat perfectly still. He began to form words. Silk and smooth. Proper. They were educated. Perhaps little lordlings. That caused a slight smile to twitch in her cheeks. How pleasant these two were. Maybe they would have dignified class. He professed his interest in a certain brand of drink. Gizelle listened intently. Her eyes moving from his lush face to the girl's more discreet and innocent pout. A small twitch in Gizelle's right cheek. Then the girl made her face disappear in his side. "Perhaps what you are looking for is something to give the little lady some more courage." she answered instead of giving the man what he needed. The man instead let out a small laugh as he kissed the top of her head. Quaint.
"Don't mind her," he simply said, "she is often wary of strangers. Especially those of the equal sex."
That caused Gizelle to stare long and hard at the girl. As her eyes returned to his handsome face. Then Gizelle simply pointed her eyes at the far shelf nearest the counter. "I keep them alphabetical. For your convenience." she said almost coldly. The man dipped his head and at once they made their way. It was as they turned that Gizelle found herself smiling.
