Jora Hunt
May 8th, 2003, 01:42:37 PM
OOC: Please PM me before replying.
IC:
In the dark I like to read his mind
But I’m frightened of the things that I might find.
Hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry.
He tells me tears are something to hide, something to fear
And so I keep it inside so no one can hear.
Hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry.[I]
“I never loved you. I always hated you. I don’t care if you’re in pain.”
[I]Blink
Black water streamed down pale white cheeks, stained from the kohl-outlined blue orbs. It was raining on Bimmisaari. There was no one outside. No one but her.
The rain hurt. Each teardrop that hit her skin was like a tiny fist, pummeling her waif-like body. Everything hurt. Clumps of white-blonde hair stuck to her face and created rivulets of water that fell from her chin and into her shirt; shivery goose bumps rose on her eerily lifelike skin.
In all mannerisms and effects, Jora Hunt appeared to be human.
“I always hated you. You were too warm.”
Even she had been deceived. But now much of her memory banks had been erased; all the fictional recollections of a childhood that had not been, were gone. Jora had only been alive—if you could call it that—for six standard years. Why Prastyn, her ‘husband’, had decided to tell her now was inconceivable. So was the reason she’d killed him.
”After my wife—you Jora—died, I was so very lonely. You can’t understand the degree of it…it was like being eaten alive, very slowly. I needed her back, I needed you back. And so I created her again. I created…you.”
‘Styn was probably still alive, moments away from death, his hot blood pouring from the hole in his abdomen. She’d died once. Or rather, her inspiration had. Was it as painful? Jora held one slender hand in front of her face as the dark clouds bucketed their tears down upon her.
How could something so very real…be a lie?
IC:
In the dark I like to read his mind
But I’m frightened of the things that I might find.
Hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry.
He tells me tears are something to hide, something to fear
And so I keep it inside so no one can hear.
Hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry.[I]
“I never loved you. I always hated you. I don’t care if you’re in pain.”
[I]Blink
Black water streamed down pale white cheeks, stained from the kohl-outlined blue orbs. It was raining on Bimmisaari. There was no one outside. No one but her.
The rain hurt. Each teardrop that hit her skin was like a tiny fist, pummeling her waif-like body. Everything hurt. Clumps of white-blonde hair stuck to her face and created rivulets of water that fell from her chin and into her shirt; shivery goose bumps rose on her eerily lifelike skin.
In all mannerisms and effects, Jora Hunt appeared to be human.
“I always hated you. You were too warm.”
Even she had been deceived. But now much of her memory banks had been erased; all the fictional recollections of a childhood that had not been, were gone. Jora had only been alive—if you could call it that—for six standard years. Why Prastyn, her ‘husband’, had decided to tell her now was inconceivable. So was the reason she’d killed him.
”After my wife—you Jora—died, I was so very lonely. You can’t understand the degree of it…it was like being eaten alive, very slowly. I needed her back, I needed you back. And so I created her again. I created…you.”
‘Styn was probably still alive, moments away from death, his hot blood pouring from the hole in his abdomen. She’d died once. Or rather, her inspiration had. Was it as painful? Jora held one slender hand in front of her face as the dark clouds bucketed their tears down upon her.
How could something so very real…be a lie?