Post by Kitaro on Apr 7, 2010 22:53:49 GMT -5
mykka sheridan
IRON BARS CAN'T HOLD MY SOUL
show me what it's like to be
the last one standing and
teach me wrong from right
and i'llshow you what i can be
IRON BARS CAN'T HOLD MY SOUL
show me what it's like to be
the last one standing and
teach me wrong from right
and i'll
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It was early in the morning, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon line. The sky was still dark blue and scattered with stars, but it was lightening ever so slowly. The water of the hot spring glimmered slightly, mostly silver, but there was a tinge of orange there as well from the rising fireball in the sky. It was warm, too warm, and probably dirty, but it was better than nothing, and soon she'd have to disappear again. The woman lowered her lips to the surface, using cupped hands to bring it closer, drink it, before the night was gone and so was she.
Her white jeans were lightly powdered with sand, ash and dirt, making them seem more gray than white. The ends of her scarf were now soaked through with water, as they'd landed in the springs. Not that she cared. She'd lived this way for her whole life. It was a bit better before the disaster, when she wasn't alone, but not much.
She leaned back, staying on her knees for a moment, resting. She'd been traveling all night. The road she'd chosen had been far too open for her liking during the day. She knew she needed to get out of this town before anyone woke up and saw her, just in case, but she'd been on her feet for hours and it was nice to just rest a while.
She closed her eyes with a soft, sad sigh, and sat there for a moment before opening them and shifting her weight to get up. It was a smooth, fluid movement. The type of grace you'd expect to see from most pokemon. But, then again, her tail gave a reason for that. She had the best of both worlds in some ways, but also the worst. It was a terrible, vicious compromise, but it was one she had to make. One that every pokemorph, no matter close they were to one side of the other, had to make.
She glanced around briefly, somewhat wistful. She wanted to stay, didn't want to be alone anymore. But the chance of anyone accepting her for what she was? Minimal, at best, or so she'd been led to believe. Drying her hands on her jeans, she turned to walk out of Lavaridge.
Unfortunately, she'd left it just a bit too late.