Post by Deon on Jun 24, 2007 21:47:48 GMT -5
The cool air of her dorm room was a sharp contrast to the stiflingly hot, humid atmosphere of the outside. The air was so thick it felt like inhaling something solid. She felt like she was going to choke before she went inside for some quick relief. She had spent the morning getting rid of all of Fleta's stuff, as she had been told that her roommate was found dead in a crater at the training field the other day. Dementia couldn't help but smile darkly at the fact she no longer had someone to share her room with. Now Seaheart could come and... visit her whenever he wanted. Of course, he could have done that anyway, but it's much less messy without a roommate to worry about.
On her bed sat the only present her father had given her, wrapped in a delicate, shining paper and topped with curled silver ribbons. She knew in advance what it was going to be. Her father gave her the same thing every year, because apparently one couldn't go wrong with jewelry for a woman. Last year it was a beautiful opal necklace that changed colors in the light. The year before she received the emerald pendant that she wore to the masquerade ball. Before that he had given her a set of diamond earrings and a matching bracelet, and the year before that was a sapphire ring set in silver with her name inscribed in the band. He had given her many more trinkets, but she could no longer remember all of them. They all rested in the safe in her closet on a bed of thick black velvet fabric.
A card stuck out from the top of the present with a single word written carefully in his ornate cursive script: Sophie. Her name. Of course. She sat on her bed and stared at the shining paper for a while, looking at the distorted, blurry reflection of her face that could be seen underneath the curly ribbons that cascaded down the sides of the gift. What jewelry did he give her this time as a substitute for his love? With a sigh, she reached for the gift and picked it up, slicing the tape with her long nails. She pulled the necklace case out of its undamaged wrapping and set the paper off to the side, forgotten. The case was easily pried open by the light touch of her fingertips to reveal the stone inside. She carefully pulled the necklace out by its golden chain to get a better look.
A large ruby hung suspended from the delicate golden chain, glittering in the light from the lamp of her dorm room. It was more than a stone--it looked like a heart that was glistening with blood, more alive than the one that pulsed in her chest. The ruby sent shattered refracted light across her skin that danced across her flesh with every slight motion of the hanging stone. She carefully laid it back in its case and got up off of her bed to put it in the safe her father had sent her a while ago to join the other presents of the years, and the other substitutes for love and correspondence. The phone rang as she twisted the combination lock and searched her pockets for a key.
Ring.
She slid the key into the slot after sliding the combination lock to the correct code of numbers.
Riing.
The white box was placed as a sharp contrast on the black velvet next to a smaller silver box that contained one of her rings.
Riiing.
She shut the heavy door to the safe and rushed out of the closet to get the phone.
Riiiing.
It seemed to get more urgent with every passing ring, as if going into hysterics.
Rii--
The last ring was cut off as her finger slammed down on the speakerphone button. She stepped back to throw away the discarded wrapping paper while she was at it, one arm still extended towards the phone, while at the same time answering with a loud, unenthusiastic, "Hello?"
The roar of a bomb exploding from inside of her phone was the only response she got. The glass from her windows shattered and burst out of their panes, sending sharp shards spraying onto the ground outside. The sound was screaming, screaming in her ears, knocking out all possibility of coherent thought or action. The heat tightened the skin on her face, forming burns across her flesh. Her arm took the brunt of the explosion. It seemed to all happen in slow motion--her arm was engulfed by the bomb's gaping, hungry mouth, and its fiery teeth tore the skin off her bones, then blew apart those as well, completely severing her left arm from her body. It only took a second for the rest her frozen body to be hit by the intense energy erupting from the bomb, picking up her feeble form and sending her hurtling backwards towards the wall. Up, down, front, back, left, right--all sense of direction vanished in the utter chaos that engulfed her, leaving as quickly as her ability to think. The light temporarily blinded her, though it was not merciful enough so to dull her sense of pain into numbness, but rather made sure she felt every burning knife that was stabbed into her skin. She fell down against the charred wall, crumpled like a rag doll. She was covered in bubbling blood boiling on her burns, cut by pieces of furniture that had been reduced to splinters in the face of the bomb's might, and surrounded by small fires that were breaking out. The fire alarm erupted in a loud shriek that paled in comparison to the violent sound of the bomb's detonation that kept playing and playing again and again and again in her ears like the song of some perverse choir. The sprinkler system in her room kicked in, sending cold water down onto Dementia's body. A horrible scream left her lips as the water touched her burning wounds that were not yet able to start repairing themselves due to the suddenness and direness of her condition. Her cells were now scrambling on whatever energy she had left to cover up the wounds out of which her liquid life force was draining out too fast for her erratically beating heart to keep up with. She had no energy or concentration to devote to the rebuilding of the bloodied stump that was now her left arm--a clean white bone protruded only a few centimeters from the raw flesh like the bull's eye of a target. Her door was blasted open, but the walls were able to contain the explosion within her room. Dementia never even saw it coming.
A piece of charred metal lay on the floor, blown into the center like a leaf in the wind by the explosion. It rested on the burned carpet, bearing an inscription that flashed like fire.
THIS IS MY GIFT TO YOU
Upon examination of the other side, another set of bold letters engraved carefully into the plaque would become visible.
COBALT PELASCI
((Woah, unintentional alliterations again...))
On her bed sat the only present her father had given her, wrapped in a delicate, shining paper and topped with curled silver ribbons. She knew in advance what it was going to be. Her father gave her the same thing every year, because apparently one couldn't go wrong with jewelry for a woman. Last year it was a beautiful opal necklace that changed colors in the light. The year before she received the emerald pendant that she wore to the masquerade ball. Before that he had given her a set of diamond earrings and a matching bracelet, and the year before that was a sapphire ring set in silver with her name inscribed in the band. He had given her many more trinkets, but she could no longer remember all of them. They all rested in the safe in her closet on a bed of thick black velvet fabric.
A card stuck out from the top of the present with a single word written carefully in his ornate cursive script: Sophie. Her name. Of course. She sat on her bed and stared at the shining paper for a while, looking at the distorted, blurry reflection of her face that could be seen underneath the curly ribbons that cascaded down the sides of the gift. What jewelry did he give her this time as a substitute for his love? With a sigh, she reached for the gift and picked it up, slicing the tape with her long nails. She pulled the necklace case out of its undamaged wrapping and set the paper off to the side, forgotten. The case was easily pried open by the light touch of her fingertips to reveal the stone inside. She carefully pulled the necklace out by its golden chain to get a better look.
A large ruby hung suspended from the delicate golden chain, glittering in the light from the lamp of her dorm room. It was more than a stone--it looked like a heart that was glistening with blood, more alive than the one that pulsed in her chest. The ruby sent shattered refracted light across her skin that danced across her flesh with every slight motion of the hanging stone. She carefully laid it back in its case and got up off of her bed to put it in the safe her father had sent her a while ago to join the other presents of the years, and the other substitutes for love and correspondence. The phone rang as she twisted the combination lock and searched her pockets for a key.
Ring.
She slid the key into the slot after sliding the combination lock to the correct code of numbers.
Riing.
The white box was placed as a sharp contrast on the black velvet next to a smaller silver box that contained one of her rings.
Riiing.
She shut the heavy door to the safe and rushed out of the closet to get the phone.
Riiiing.
It seemed to get more urgent with every passing ring, as if going into hysterics.
Rii--
The last ring was cut off as her finger slammed down on the speakerphone button. She stepped back to throw away the discarded wrapping paper while she was at it, one arm still extended towards the phone, while at the same time answering with a loud, unenthusiastic, "Hello?"
The roar of a bomb exploding from inside of her phone was the only response she got. The glass from her windows shattered and burst out of their panes, sending sharp shards spraying onto the ground outside. The sound was screaming, screaming in her ears, knocking out all possibility of coherent thought or action. The heat tightened the skin on her face, forming burns across her flesh. Her arm took the brunt of the explosion. It seemed to all happen in slow motion--her arm was engulfed by the bomb's gaping, hungry mouth, and its fiery teeth tore the skin off her bones, then blew apart those as well, completely severing her left arm from her body. It only took a second for the rest her frozen body to be hit by the intense energy erupting from the bomb, picking up her feeble form and sending her hurtling backwards towards the wall. Up, down, front, back, left, right--all sense of direction vanished in the utter chaos that engulfed her, leaving as quickly as her ability to think. The light temporarily blinded her, though it was not merciful enough so to dull her sense of pain into numbness, but rather made sure she felt every burning knife that was stabbed into her skin. She fell down against the charred wall, crumpled like a rag doll. She was covered in bubbling blood boiling on her burns, cut by pieces of furniture that had been reduced to splinters in the face of the bomb's might, and surrounded by small fires that were breaking out. The fire alarm erupted in a loud shriek that paled in comparison to the violent sound of the bomb's detonation that kept playing and playing again and again and again in her ears like the song of some perverse choir. The sprinkler system in her room kicked in, sending cold water down onto Dementia's body. A horrible scream left her lips as the water touched her burning wounds that were not yet able to start repairing themselves due to the suddenness and direness of her condition. Her cells were now scrambling on whatever energy she had left to cover up the wounds out of which her liquid life force was draining out too fast for her erratically beating heart to keep up with. She had no energy or concentration to devote to the rebuilding of the bloodied stump that was now her left arm--a clean white bone protruded only a few centimeters from the raw flesh like the bull's eye of a target. Her door was blasted open, but the walls were able to contain the explosion within her room. Dementia never even saw it coming.
A piece of charred metal lay on the floor, blown into the center like a leaf in the wind by the explosion. It rested on the burned carpet, bearing an inscription that flashed like fire.
THIS IS MY GIFT TO YOU
Upon examination of the other side, another set of bold letters engraved carefully into the plaque would become visible.
COBALT PELASCI
((Woah, unintentional alliterations again...))
