08-11-2018, 04:56 AM
(Edited 08-11-2018, 05:03 AM by SAYØNARALULLABY.)
[align=center][div style="width: 455px; text-align: justify; font-family: nyala; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #000"] Behind the glory gold in fire comes a fragile, little lost star. / Catching after magic dusts and silver serenity, like comfort found in counting constellations. / The star child stands besides his sister, head high and posture strong. / A mountain against the oceans. / A tree against the storms. / Ayon glances at Charon and watches her mouth moving. / He blinks, shifting his soft gaze on to the beast who inhales nicotine and exhales hurricanes before him. / He tilts his head.
January angel. / Does the kit first notice the pair of broken haloes stitched in his shoulders. / He thinks of how the beast's heart must beat to the music art of wild rains and dead seas. / Tragedy sets in between ivory ribs. / Breathing saltwater, lungs burning. / Always there. / Always a reminder given against his flesh and organs he is still alive. / Ayon takes a step closer to the older male and shifts. / January angel. / A beauty with sharp teeth and storm borne eyes.
❝ Pret..ty... ❞ mutters Ayon, his voice belonging to a ghost; cold and quiet. / He averts his eyes from the jaguar and stares at the basket. / Seeing the weapons and herbs in there, approval flickers across baby blue eyes. / He claps his forepaws a couple times, mortal veins burns with excitement, before he peeks into the container and starts examining the items, celestial mind immediately absent in the rolling waves of interest and curiosity. / World forgotten. / Lights gone.
January angel. / Does the kit first notice the pair of broken haloes stitched in his shoulders. / He thinks of how the beast's heart must beat to the music art of wild rains and dead seas. / Tragedy sets in between ivory ribs. / Breathing saltwater, lungs burning. / Always there. / Always a reminder given against his flesh and organs he is still alive. / Ayon takes a step closer to the older male and shifts. / January angel. / A beauty with sharp teeth and storm borne eyes.
❝ Pret..ty... ❞ mutters Ayon, his voice belonging to a ghost; cold and quiet. / He averts his eyes from the jaguar and stares at the basket. / Seeing the weapons and herbs in there, approval flickers across baby blue eyes. / He claps his forepaws a couple times, mortal veins burns with excitement, before he peeks into the container and starts examining the items, celestial mind immediately absent in the rolling waves of interest and curiosity. / World forgotten. / Lights gone.
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[glow=black,10,100][b]. CHOKING ON HOLLOW HALO, ABDOMEN FILLED WITH RICH ROSES [b].[i]
BROKEN BONES IN GOLD BLOOD; IS THIS WHAT IT MEANS TO BELIEVE?
[div style="margin-top: -1px; font-family: heiti sc; font-size: 10px; color: #000"]「 . AKA [color=#000]AYON . 4 MONTHS . SINNISHMARK SPAWN . PENNED BY DEVILAD; LIKEWISE THE POEM ON SIG . ICON©: SELF . 」
BROKEN BONES IN GOLD BLOOD; IS THIS WHAT IT MEANS TO BELIEVE?