alma desamparada

It’s quite late for any visitors—not that she’d have any in the first place; she doesn’t have many friends, for she’s quite good at isolating herself. A glance at the kitchen clock further contributes to her annoyance. Two in the morning. Who on earth would wake her up now?

Wrong apartment, she figures. Zelda drapes herself in the first robe she can find, before gracing the other with a yawn and furrowed brows—though whether they were furrowed in annoyance or in concern was unclear.

“Por Dios, do you know how late it is?”

He shrugged, “that my dear, is the one part I’ve not really given much thought to.” He got up to his feet and began to wander slowly over to look at one of the windows, “don’t mind me looking around, I haven’t been in a church in…oh Gods it’s been years.” He wondered if she would pick up on his use of the plural form. He was tall, 6 foot to be exact, and he was dressed in a pair of black jeans, boots, button down shirt and a leather jacket, his clothes were soaked and water dripped from his hair. Despite being weighed down by water, his footsteps were silent, only emphasised by the sound of the water droplets landing as he moved.

Gods? She couldn’t help but hang on to that, marveled by how a single letter could make such and impact and make you wonder about the origins of a person. Who was he? Where was he from? Did his beliefs vary greatly from hers? All these questions, yet for the first time today, she stays silent, not allowing anymore intrusive comments to slip. Instead, she follows his eyes, seeing what he sees. Curious to know what he thinks. “I don’t mind at all. It’s hard not to look. It’s beautiful... at least, I think it is.” Water follows with his every step, leaving a trail of glossy droplets on the floor behind him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask before. Would you like me to bring something for you to dry yourself? We don’t have towels exactly, but I’m sure I could find something.” 

                                                   @deesamparada​

                          about :  human bio  : mutant bio  :  rules :  opens

                              promo credit: my lovely Lil  @diirtblood

“Perspective.” He said with a shrug before turning his head to look at her, a friendly smile on his lips, “the difference between a God and a Demon is a matter of perspective. My idea of virtue could be another’s idea of evil, which would in turn reverse who is the God or Demon.” A flash of lightening illuminated the windows on one side of the church, he turned his head to look at it, “it’s very…echoy in here.”

Loud and crowded places had never been her scene—when it comes to her spare time, she always goes with more subtle things, finding comfort in silence and  s o l i t u d e .  So, it’s needless to say that she feels slightly out of place in the club she’s currently in. Seeking shelter from the pelting rain had been her only reason for entering, but now that she finds herself stuck there, she can’t help but take in her surroundings with a sparking sense of intrigue. Perhaps it’s the way that she lingers close to the entrance, hesitating to go in deeper into the unknown, or perhaps it’s the way that her eyes shine with innocence and curiosity, but somehow, the fact that she doesn’t frequent places like these is o b v i o u s—and someone seems to notice this.

He followed her to the pew after taking a moment to look around the interior, “lost? Lost in thought perhaps.” He said taking a seat, his eyes still exploring everything his eyes could find. “What would you say is the difference between a God and a Demon?” He asked as his eyes found their way to the pulpit.

I’m totally not recycling my 2-year old starters 

Loki had been more or less in a daze as he stood in the rain, watching the rain, feeling the rain, at least until a voice broke him out of it. He looked around briefly to locate the source of the sound, he thought for a moment before moving to head inside, he wasn’t overly keen on going in a church but he didn’t much fancy the idea of getting sick either. “I wouldn’t object to a biting statue, that would be amusing.” He said with a smile as he stepped inside before giving her a small bow, “I’m Lolo.”

“That actually sounds rather terrifying,” she says, eyeing the statues warily now. She doesn’t have a fear of them, per se, but yet she did find herself walking briskly at night when no one else was around and the only company she had were marble faces. She smiles a little, amused at the bow — such a formal gesture made her feel sort of bashful. Should she curtsy in return? Better not. 

“Zelda,” she offers, heading towards the closest row of pews in case he wanted to sit. “You seemed a bit lost there in the rain,” she starts absentmindedly, blatantly allowing such a prying statement to pass through otherwise respectful lips. “Was something on your mind?”

“Couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been standing there for quite a while,” she shouts at the stranger, hoping to be heard over the plummeting rain. “You can come in if you’d like.” She gestures at the church’s interior from her place at the entrance. “At least until the rain passes. I assure you, the statues won’t bite.”

                      about  :  human bio  :  mutant bio  :  rules  :  opens

                           promo credit: my lovely Lil  @diirtblood

So i”m back... kinda? I just want to write man. So if i still have followers and you guys still want to plot, hmu lol i miss my delicate flower of a child