Post by Devil May Cry//Deja Entendu on Oct 19, 2005 0:46:17 GMT -5
D.eja E.ntendu
Ah... The sweet sorrow of silence. How it brought nothing but that bitterness of boredom. Such was the emotion, if you could call it that, running through the wench known as Deja Entendu. You may call her Deja, as most don't like taking the time of day saying her full name... This was due to the fact that, she was not much cared for by most. You see, she was cruel, and had a taste for blood that pushed her into near insanity... Or had she crossed that path long ago? Who knows these days... This psychotic vixen walked slowly across Hell's ceiling... Dragging her limbs and frame. Not due to an injury, unless of course you count severe boredom an injury. And what better thing to cure this 'disease' than mingling with a foolish brute? Ah yes... An odd nature those brute's were. Caring only for the size of their harems, about the beauty of a vix... etc. Well, Deja had a mottled, mist washed pelt, that from a first glance, would tell you that she was in fact not a darkling. Just one of her unique traits that distinguished her from the usual dark hued canvas of the others that were drawn to the shadows... Unlike most others, she held a certain grace... Yes, her Arabic frame and lineage gave her a leg up in that department. Her strides were long, and smooth. She almost always had her skull tucked neatly on that perfectly arched serpentine... She was marked with a few scars, but none too noticeable. She had been in fights, yet, was still young. Much worse lay ahead for this one... Her impulsive nature, would drag her into the most psychotic of things... As usual.
And now... The beginning steps of the ritual that had gone on for ages before her, and would most likely continue long after her death. She came to a halt. The muscles in her nose tensed, revealing those terrifying, bloodstained fangs... They parted, and a chilling scream was shoved into the icy air around her. It tortured the skies, even if only for a moment... The sound was like poison, now infecting the auds of whoever heard it... A song of death. Yet, somehow enticing. She lifted a dagger, and slammed it back down upon this forsaken earth... Only to scar it, showing her impatience. Though silent by nature, the ache of boredom would even make the quietest beast turn more loud and boisterous than any other. Such was the curse that lay upon the vixen now...
"Come out come out wherever you are..."
Those near silent words, were relentless and cold... Nothing but a mere taunt...