(no subject)

[lilith-qliphah.livejournal.com]

Monday, October 19th
Day 141
Night

It has not been that long since I have last walked the streets of the town, I don’t think, but Ooh just look at the changes that have taken place. The death of a god never ceases to bring a smile to my face; my Djinn did a wonderful job with that one, and with the pretty witch too, pity it had to end so soon. Her gifts were magnificent and her death was also a gift that few ever receive, an end of their own choosing, and she chose well. I could say I am disappointed in her use of her gifts, but that would be a lie. I did have such high hopes when we loosed her on the town, but then that’s one of the more interesting things with free will, you never know what they will choose to do.

I have returned to the carnival this evening to see what interesting things the night might bring, if any. So far the only thing of remote interest is the increased whispers of my name on the wind. I find it both intriguing and amusing that here, my name is accompanied with suspicion as well as greed. ”Who is she really? Is she dangerous? Who cares? Thank god she’s back, we’ll make more money again.” That last one is my personal favorite. Even before I begin to dance, I send out a silent call to those who are hungry for what we offer here and smile as I see them begin to filter in. Some even stare around in wonder, trying to figure out why they felt as if they needed to be here tonight. Then my dance begins and the confusion fades, they know why they’re here and happy they came.

Born in lust, turn to dust - Born in sin, c'mon in.

OPEN TO IBLIS  CLOSED

(no subject)

[lilith-qliphah.livejournal.com]

Monday, October 19th
Day 141
Night

It has not been that long since I have last walked the streets of the town, I don’t think, but Ooh just look at the changes that have taken place. The death of a god never ceases to bring a smile to my face; my Djinn did a wonderful job with that one, and with the pretty witch too, pity it had to end so soon. Her gifts were magnificent and her death was also a gift that few ever receive, an end of their own choosing, and she chose well. I could say I am disappointed in her use of her gifts, but that would be a lie. I did have such high hopes when we loosed her on the town, but then that’s one of the more interesting things with free will, you never know what they will choose to do.

I have returned to the carnival this evening to see what interesting things the night might bring, if any. So far the only thing of remote interest is the increased whispers of my name on the wind. I find it both intriguing and amusing that here, my name is accompanied with suspicion as well as greed. ”Who is she really? Is she dangerous? Who cares? Thank god she’s back, we’ll make more money again.” That last one is my personal favorite. Even before I begin to dance, I send out a silent call to those who are hungry for what we offer here and smile as I see them begin to filter in. Some even stare around in wonder, trying to figure out why they felt as if they needed to be here tonight. Then my dance begins and the confusion fades, they know why they’re here and happy they came.

Born in lust, turn to dust - Born in sin, c'mon in.

OPEN TO IBLIS  CLOSED

O tiger's heart, wrapped in a woman's hide!

[shirlee-b.livejournal.com]

Day 141, Monday, October 19th Mid day
Middle of Fucking Nowhere

Bike looks good. I rub my thumb on the gas tank revealing its chrome shine as I kneel looking at it. This should do nicely for the rest of journey to the next settlement. Standing, I feel the corner of my mouth pull in smirk as I lift the last half-gallon bottle of liquid happiness to my mouth and pull out the cork with my teeth. I spit it out, it's not like I give a shit where it lands, and start to pour the contents into the tank.

I reach up and grab the blunt I had resting on my ear, lighting it with the zippo and inhaling slowly. Shaking the flame out, I notice the alcohol I'm pouring into the tank and stop. Bottle's half empty now, should be good enough. Fuck if I know where the cork is, and I don't want the rest to go to waste. Pinching the blunt out of my mouth, I finish the bottle quickly and throw it behind me to hear it crash against something. I wipe my mouth off with my arm and stare down the road feeling the high from the blunt and buzz from the booze start to rise.

I don't have much longer to go until the next town thanks to the donation by the hijo de puta laying dead on the ground next to me. I grab my katana leaning against the bike and stand over the bleeding marauder joto and spit on him. I don't spread my legs for pieces of shit like him or his friends. I think I made myself clear to these fuckers. Now, for the bike... For it I spread my legs to wrap tightly around the bike and feel the handles firm and hard under my grip. Catch myself grinning as I run my tongue against the bottom of my teeth, this puta better go as fast as I think it will. It starts perfectly and I waste no time punching it into high speed passing the rest of the the joto's dead friends scattered about the dirt road.

Hours later I stop the bike next to a sign. Excolo ah? Cute name. Before riding again, I take this time to light up then continue into town and adjust the sack of ammunition and guns acquired from my last stop. With my blunt hanging from my mouth, I reach into my pocket and put on my sun glasses. A gift I treasure. It's hard enough to come across good weapons, let alone little luxuries like these away from the major cities.

( ¿Qué diablos es esto? )

[Closed.]

O tiger's heart, wrapped in a woman's hide!

[shirlee-b.livejournal.com]

Day 141, Monday, October 19th Mid day
Middle of Fucking Nowhere

Bike looks good. I rub my thumb on the gas tank revealing its chrome shine as I kneel looking at it. This should do nicely for the rest of journey to the next settlement. Standing, I feel the corner of my mouth pull in smirk as I lift the last half-gallon bottle of liquid happiness to my mouth and pull out the cork with my teeth. I spit it out, it's not like I give a shit where it lands, and start to pour the contents into the tank.

I reach up and grab the blunt I had resting on my ear, lighting it with the zippo and inhaling slowly. Shaking the flame out, I notice the alcohol I'm pouring into the tank and stop. Bottle's half empty now, should be good enough. Fuck if I know where the cork is, and I don't want the rest to go to waste. Pinching the blunt out of my mouth, I finish the bottle quickly and throw it behind me to hear it crash against something. I wipe my mouth off with my arm and stare down the road feeling the high from the blunt and buzz from the booze start to rise.

I don't have much longer to go until the next town thanks to the donation by the hijo de puta laying dead on the ground next to me. I grab my katana leaning against the bike and stand over the bleeding marauder joto and spit on him. I don't spread my legs for pieces of shit like him or his friends. I think I made myself clear to these fuckers. Now, for the bike... For it I spread my legs to wrap tightly around the bike and feel the handles firm and hard under my grip. Catch myself grinning as I run my tongue against the bottom of my teeth, this puta better go as fast as I think it will. It starts perfectly and I waste no time punching it into high speed passing the rest of the the joto's dead friends scattered about the dirt road.

Hours later I stop the bike next to a sign. Excolo ah? Cute name. Before riding again, I take this time to light up then continue into town and adjust the sack of ammunition and guns acquired from my last stop. With my blunt hanging from my mouth, I reach into my pocket and put on my sun glasses. A gift I treasure. It's hard enough to come across good weapons, let alone little luxuries like these away from the major cities.

( ¿Qué diablos es esto? )

[Closed.]