05-05-2014, 08:33 PM
Elias was a gargoyle on the wall, a silent watcher seemingly apathetic to the decay around him. Yet behind the rim of shadowed eyes, he was curious of Connor's fate. It wasn't a merciless countenance that cooled his heart of all care, but men who flung themselves on train tracks were not long for this world.
The train departed, and he remained where he was though Tehya discarded his outreached hand. For a moment, his brow creased with worry she might think to duplicate Connor's foolishness. If she did, she would wrench a moment of mourning from the statue abandoned to solitary on the platform, but a moment would be the extent of his grief. Neither men nor women who flung themselves on train tracks were long for this world.
She didn't. Connor was in tact. The woman saved, although the sudden ferocity with which the gentile American tackled the criminal was quite the shock. Eli had to consider Connor with fresher light. He looked like the kind of man to wear plaid shirts and dad-jeans, but appearances were misleading, apparently.
The wanton excitement flustered Tehya from the scene and she declared her intent to walk the distance to her destination. Eli shrugged, yet from the corner of his eye he watched where her shape retreated.
The echoing warning pumped fresh blood in his ears. Eli snapped his gaze around as Connor gestured overhead. At first he thought it was smoke, though there were no fire to account for it. It disobeyed the laws of circulation and coalesced into some sort of grey density that called to Eli as though he could hear it speak in his mind.
He reached out to touch it, to swipe a hand through its shape. It beckoned and for a chilling moment, Eli thought he saw a smile in the haze. 'Seize it,' were the words of its song, and Eli knew exactly what was implied. The Light pulsed in the microcosm all the brighter as shadow and shade crept ever closer.
If it were not for Tehya planting herself in front of him, he would have answered the call. He gripped her shoulders not so much lower than his own, and squeezed them beneath the slender crook of his fingers. The widening of his eyes flared them all the whiter, but they burned with every blinkless second that passed. He bent ever so slightly and spoke in her ear. "It speaks to us,"
he whispered.
"Fascinating."
The word dripped from the corners of his smile, and bred deep in the crevices of desire, he intended to do as he wished.
Quick movements rendered Tehya free of his path, and he strode forward in the absence of blockade. The air rendering the shadow in swirls and form billowed his coat from his ankles and swept his hair from his face. Yet onward Elias walked, smiling with the seeming insanity of taunting sheer death.
He thrust out his hand where the mist took form and within the cage of its center, he found solid hold. His senses said a heart of smoke pounded in his palm, yet his eyes could barely discern air from opacity of the creature. It shrieked as though clutched by the seat of its being. Eli grit his teeth, and a burn crept up his arm, leeching the veins black, wrinkling them to the surface of suddenly fragile skin. Black bored up his throat along the channels of blood. It circled his face with the grim halo of death. The heart lurched but he could withstand no longer. He released the connection.
He stumbled back, and already his coloring was returning, but the need to wretch was strong, a seasickness afflicted by something far more fearsome than the vastness of the sea. He looked upon the hand that was moments from sure power, but rather than mastery, his fingers were curled inward, the knuckles flared and red, the nails skeletal and bony. He held it to his chest protectively, and spun about to unleash hell upon the creature, but it had moved on.
Edited by Elias Donovan, May 6 2014, 03:24 PM.
The train departed, and he remained where he was though Tehya discarded his outreached hand. For a moment, his brow creased with worry she might think to duplicate Connor's foolishness. If she did, she would wrench a moment of mourning from the statue abandoned to solitary on the platform, but a moment would be the extent of his grief. Neither men nor women who flung themselves on train tracks were long for this world.
She didn't. Connor was in tact. The woman saved, although the sudden ferocity with which the gentile American tackled the criminal was quite the shock. Eli had to consider Connor with fresher light. He looked like the kind of man to wear plaid shirts and dad-jeans, but appearances were misleading, apparently.
The wanton excitement flustered Tehya from the scene and she declared her intent to walk the distance to her destination. Eli shrugged, yet from the corner of his eye he watched where her shape retreated.
The echoing warning pumped fresh blood in his ears. Eli snapped his gaze around as Connor gestured overhead. At first he thought it was smoke, though there were no fire to account for it. It disobeyed the laws of circulation and coalesced into some sort of grey density that called to Eli as though he could hear it speak in his mind.
He reached out to touch it, to swipe a hand through its shape. It beckoned and for a chilling moment, Eli thought he saw a smile in the haze. 'Seize it,' were the words of its song, and Eli knew exactly what was implied. The Light pulsed in the microcosm all the brighter as shadow and shade crept ever closer.
If it were not for Tehya planting herself in front of him, he would have answered the call. He gripped her shoulders not so much lower than his own, and squeezed them beneath the slender crook of his fingers. The widening of his eyes flared them all the whiter, but they burned with every blinkless second that passed. He bent ever so slightly and spoke in her ear. "It speaks to us,"
he whispered.
"Fascinating."
The word dripped from the corners of his smile, and bred deep in the crevices of desire, he intended to do as he wished.
Quick movements rendered Tehya free of his path, and he strode forward in the absence of blockade. The air rendering the shadow in swirls and form billowed his coat from his ankles and swept his hair from his face. Yet onward Elias walked, smiling with the seeming insanity of taunting sheer death.
He thrust out his hand where the mist took form and within the cage of its center, he found solid hold. His senses said a heart of smoke pounded in his palm, yet his eyes could barely discern air from opacity of the creature. It shrieked as though clutched by the seat of its being. Eli grit his teeth, and a burn crept up his arm, leeching the veins black, wrinkling them to the surface of suddenly fragile skin. Black bored up his throat along the channels of blood. It circled his face with the grim halo of death. The heart lurched but he could withstand no longer. He released the connection.
He stumbled back, and already his coloring was returning, but the need to wretch was strong, a seasickness afflicted by something far more fearsome than the vastness of the sea. He looked upon the hand that was moments from sure power, but rather than mastery, his fingers were curled inward, the knuckles flared and red, the nails skeletal and bony. He held it to his chest protectively, and spun about to unleash hell upon the creature, but it had moved on.
Edited by Elias Donovan, May 6 2014, 03:24 PM.