- Joined
- Jan 5, 2012
- Messages
- 1,253
- Reaction score
- 93
Chained to the underbelly of Quarzite's cavernous weave, Dionysus stood pale, languished in synthetic light that basked warmth in the world's depths. Splayed over velvet, sashes hugging the contours of his nigh naked frame, a docile look of irreverence stole over him. Cupped in palms that sweated sweetly, saccharine as the blood writhing in auspicious veins. The curve of a long-stemmed pipe dangled between his fingers.
Coils of smoke rose from a helpless veneer, smog thick with the translucent rim of opiates. Heady to the breath, sticking in lungs and exhaling a longing that caught at the throat. Inescapable. Rampart intensity, a fervor that rung with the pounding steps and stone-eyed guardsmen, helmets bracing gazes with copper and trails of lattice-lit coal.
They apprised their prince from veiled safety. Guarded looks shot between glass displays, worming into the tranquility that surrounded them. Reserved. They lingered in revere. Enraptured by the slow crawl of flesh dignifying Dionysus as he flicked the ebbing flame from his inlaid pipe. Grace manifested before he moved. Attached itself, guided in causality, elicited fixation, care, in every wayward gesture. Water winding through a bejeweled aquifer. Drained of color, pallor the shade of dawn. Milky, as if to berate the light its artificial depth.
He cast himself out the slicked wake of a window, gaze set to the fawning lakes beyond. Calm, a basin of the truest blue. Reflecting light, shimmering with mineral matter caught in eternal suspension. Liquid crystal transmogrified to the shape of purity, treacherous even as its very existence promised lurking horror. A mercurial death, dissembled to base particles.
Fear existed there, in spaces unknown. Only the trail of a metal wrought platform bridged the gap between the lake's central fixture and the outside world; ever beyond, far from the scope of Dionysus' searching eyes. What he saw hungered within him. Scant desires filling the hollows of his chest, erecting need where reminiscence failed to satiate him.
His every pleasure was acted out on whim. Unfolded in tomes and holographic lettering projected onto walls, sullying the air with falsity that beckoned knowledge. Understanding. But it lacked in substantiation. Comfort nagged at him. Festered in the places where idle thoughts shriveled, wasted. Redirected by coursing prose or a gilded phrase; do not tarry, claims that influenced the font of his being.
Wishes propped him on the couch. Whispers that begged forgiveness. For his presence. As if the light of crystalline fixtures could not stave off the chill that settled in Quarzite's midst. They sustained him. Their beacon, their warmth.
Golden teardrops painted his gaze where they pleased, and his very pleasure came from its silence. Restful. Waiting. The gears of existence grinding away, urging him forth, to progress. To move. He stayed his hand, the trembling digits that obscured the last length of his pipe. Settled them in his lap.
Visitors bade his welcome.
Coils of smoke rose from a helpless veneer, smog thick with the translucent rim of opiates. Heady to the breath, sticking in lungs and exhaling a longing that caught at the throat. Inescapable. Rampart intensity, a fervor that rung with the pounding steps and stone-eyed guardsmen, helmets bracing gazes with copper and trails of lattice-lit coal.
They apprised their prince from veiled safety. Guarded looks shot between glass displays, worming into the tranquility that surrounded them. Reserved. They lingered in revere. Enraptured by the slow crawl of flesh dignifying Dionysus as he flicked the ebbing flame from his inlaid pipe. Grace manifested before he moved. Attached itself, guided in causality, elicited fixation, care, in every wayward gesture. Water winding through a bejeweled aquifer. Drained of color, pallor the shade of dawn. Milky, as if to berate the light its artificial depth.
He cast himself out the slicked wake of a window, gaze set to the fawning lakes beyond. Calm, a basin of the truest blue. Reflecting light, shimmering with mineral matter caught in eternal suspension. Liquid crystal transmogrified to the shape of purity, treacherous even as its very existence promised lurking horror. A mercurial death, dissembled to base particles.
Fear existed there, in spaces unknown. Only the trail of a metal wrought platform bridged the gap between the lake's central fixture and the outside world; ever beyond, far from the scope of Dionysus' searching eyes. What he saw hungered within him. Scant desires filling the hollows of his chest, erecting need where reminiscence failed to satiate him.
His every pleasure was acted out on whim. Unfolded in tomes and holographic lettering projected onto walls, sullying the air with falsity that beckoned knowledge. Understanding. But it lacked in substantiation. Comfort nagged at him. Festered in the places where idle thoughts shriveled, wasted. Redirected by coursing prose or a gilded phrase; do not tarry, claims that influenced the font of his being.
Wishes propped him on the couch. Whispers that begged forgiveness. For his presence. As if the light of crystalline fixtures could not stave off the chill that settled in Quarzite's midst. They sustained him. Their beacon, their warmth.
Golden teardrops painted his gaze where they pleased, and his very pleasure came from its silence. Restful. Waiting. The gears of existence grinding away, urging him forth, to progress. To move. He stayed his hand, the trembling digits that obscured the last length of his pipe. Settled them in his lap.
Visitors bade his welcome.