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Shio · November 19, 2006, 08:04 AM

One by one, the scintillating spikes, steel tipped with the finest of silver, fell to the loamy forest floor. Shio breathed deeply of its intoxicating scent, her head spinning, the thoughts of her mind crashing upon the banks of her consciousness like the waves on the shore. Orbs of clear aquamarine fixed upon the deep scars that she had left upon her portable wooden target -- the girl would never have the courage to wound one of those ominous trees, scrutinizing carefully their accuracy. The eyes... She had finally hit them correctly, it seemed, driving deeply enough to cause more than simple blindness.

A wicked, chesire smile spread across her delicate featers, the last needle spinning rapidly atwixt toned fingers. She had been taught well, no matter how much she was beginning to hate, even, to love her teacher, in some sickening way. After all, it was that rancid woman who had offered to become the girl's mother after practically violating her... Nall squinted her eyes shut in confusion, wiping her clammy palms off on her simple black trousers. No skin-tight leather, no nudity tonight. She had too much respect for her surroundings to do something like that, to reveal herself in such an unflattering way.

It made the white-haired shudder to think that she had even done so once, that she had overcome to the carnal desires that she had tried so hard to purge herself of... Shio took a few steps back, angrily throwing the spike that she had once so lovingly held in her hand, its brilliant balance quivering half way through the neck of the target. It was amazing, really, what anger could do, what power she could harness when the vile thing took over her body, her soul...

The fallen noble grimaced, her head hanging in shame, the frightening power suddenly draining from her emaciated form. What of all the things that she had left behind to choose this path, the way of the assassin, the way of which her hated family would have approved? The lowest form of acceptability... The trash of the upper class. Certainly, those who condoned her former goals would have recoiled in disgust at the events that had transpired over the last few days; it took all of Shio's willpower not to do so, herself.

Gently, as if carried by a tide, her mind wandered back to Vortex, back to the strangers that had deigned to help such a worthless abomination. Anastasia, Tanya, the half-elven man... Poor, dead Minhiriath, the one who had made the biggest difference in her life, the one who had given her what she had so actively sought: validity. Was it the woman's ghost that haunted her now, her bloody spirit looking for revenge, hurting the one who had done nothing to help her in her greatest time of need?

Shio looked despairingly towards the star-studded sky, its inky blackness casting a shadow over her infantile eyes, the ebony tears that trickled down her cheeks.

"Where are you now, Arwenamin?"

Ssss...

The spike hissed through the air, weaker this time, but more accurate. Shio saw the poison spread from its tip through the imaginary man's veins, its deadliness killing him slowly, softly.

Regrettably.

"Nae saian luume', Minhiriath."

Sut an?

Orn Usstan el 'zil al?

November 19, 2006, 08:04 AM	#2 (permalink)
Shio Retired Join Date: Feb 2006 Location: Vortex Posts: 278	One by one, the scintillating spikes, steel tipped with the finest of silver, fell to the loamy forest floor. Shio breathed deeply of its intoxicating scent, her head spinning, the thoughts of her mind crashing upon the banks of her consciousness like the waves on the shore. Orbs of clear aquamarine fixed upon the deep scars that she had left upon her portable wooden target -- the girl would never have the courage to wound one of those ominous trees, scrutinizing carefully their accuracy. The eyes... She had finally hit them correctly, it seemed, driving deeply enough to cause more than simple blindness. A wicked, chesire smile spread across her delicate featers, the last needle spinning rapidly atwixt toned fingers. She had been taught well, no matter how much she was beginning to hate, even, to love her teacher, in some sickening way. After all, it was that rancid woman who had offered to become the girl's mother after practically violating her... Nall squinted her eyes shut in confusion, wiping her clammy palms off on her simple black trousers. No skin-tight leather, no nudity tonight. She had too much respect for her surroundings to do something like that, to reveal herself in such an unflattering way. It made the white-haired shudder to think that she had even done so once, that she had overcome to the carnal desires that she had tried so hard to purge herself of... Shio took a few steps back, angrily throwing the spike that she had once so lovingly held in her hand, its brilliant balance quivering half way through the neck of the target. It was amazing, really, what anger could do, what power she could harness when the vile thing took over her body, her soul... The fallen noble grimaced, her head hanging in shame, the frightening power suddenly draining from her emaciated form. What of all the things that she had left behind to choose this path, the way of the assassin, the way of which her hated family would have approved? The lowest form of acceptability... The trash of the upper class. Certainly, those who condoned her former goals would have recoiled in disgust at the events that had transpired over the last few days; it took all of Shio's willpower not to do so, herself. Gently, as if carried by a tide, her mind wandered back to Vortex, back to the strangers that had deigned to help such a worthless abomination. Anastasia, Tanya, the half-elven man... Poor, dead Minhiriath, the one who had made the biggest difference in her life, the one who had given her what she had so actively sought: validity. Was it the woman's ghost that haunted her now, her bloody spirit looking for revenge, hurting the one who had done nothing to help her in her greatest time of need? Shio looked despairingly towards the star-studded sky, its inky blackness casting a shadow over her infantile eyes, the ebony tears that trickled down her cheeks. "Where are you now, Arwenamin?" Ssss... The spike hissed through the air, weaker this time, but more accurate. Shio saw the poison spread from its tip through the imaginary man's veins, its deadliness killing him slowly, softly. Regrettably. "Nae saian luume', Minhiriath." Sut an? Orn Usstan el 'zil al?