Post by superstar on Jun 25, 2009 9:38:50 GMT -5
Soul Society may as well be the renowned land of the colorless and gray-scale. No textiles ran along the bare walls, no color flashed before your eyes, and certainly nothing of spectacular colors existed in such a barren land. Bare stale walls and the marble like floors were the remaining image of color that was left of Soul Society, weather it had began that way or not. That was, unless one counted the contrasting tiles of roof, which she found utterly out of place. Then again, it was soft on a persons eyes in the morning.
Soft as it was, the irony was unique, if she so did think so herself. Ivory were the walls, ivory were her long strands. And as she strode down the mimicking halls of Seireitei, each strand of silk-like hair trickled in her wake, passing behind her like the essence of her existence.
Her pale fingertips brushed against the state-pale walls like a child whom had stepped out doors for the first time. Although she quite obviously lacked the enthusiasm. Her petite chin was tucked high as if to aid her stunted height, quick as she was, agile as she was. He pale eyes did not trail off into the distance regardless of the view she was provided. Instead, they sent the endless ripples across a pond as a leaf upon landing. Her gaze brushed ever so lightly across the pale morning. Regiments of the morning haze remained thick in the air, stinging her breath as she inhaled, almost like knifes pricking the insides of her cheeks. A blank expression rested across her face, and remained so as she leaned her finger tips off the wall. The limb touched to her hand as she trailed on, steps steady, and swooping with a light agileness that sounded not once as she moved.
Specks of black bordered both her sides in thin lines, be that most were not awake in the easiest of times. Though she was, for one. And alas, her petite figure molded into the demographics of the street and Seireitei, blank was her hakama, short was her height, and unnoticeable was her presence. The streak of white flickered to her sides as she tossed the fine strands back. A blessing of a curse, quite honestly, she did not know. The lone blank print stood bold against the golden rod surface. But of course, there was things to be done, places to go, people to visit, and assignments to complete. She cannot loiter in her mornings for too long, now can she? It would become her leisure time, she decided, as the dawn reined forever longer then she had thought. This stroll too, she decided, would come to an end when the sun breaks the dawns rein. A very cheap game to play when clouds hovered above her head, fog drenched the air, and the morning tisk of cold remained fresh in her mouth.
Paint a picture through the eyes of one who cannot see, for the ears of someone who cannot hear, and with a variety of paint that is only gray.
Soft as it was, the irony was unique, if she so did think so herself. Ivory were the walls, ivory were her long strands. And as she strode down the mimicking halls of Seireitei, each strand of silk-like hair trickled in her wake, passing behind her like the essence of her existence.
Her pale fingertips brushed against the state-pale walls like a child whom had stepped out doors for the first time. Although she quite obviously lacked the enthusiasm. Her petite chin was tucked high as if to aid her stunted height, quick as she was, agile as she was. He pale eyes did not trail off into the distance regardless of the view she was provided. Instead, they sent the endless ripples across a pond as a leaf upon landing. Her gaze brushed ever so lightly across the pale morning. Regiments of the morning haze remained thick in the air, stinging her breath as she inhaled, almost like knifes pricking the insides of her cheeks. A blank expression rested across her face, and remained so as she leaned her finger tips off the wall. The limb touched to her hand as she trailed on, steps steady, and swooping with a light agileness that sounded not once as she moved.
Specks of black bordered both her sides in thin lines, be that most were not awake in the easiest of times. Though she was, for one. And alas, her petite figure molded into the demographics of the street and Seireitei, blank was her hakama, short was her height, and unnoticeable was her presence. The streak of white flickered to her sides as she tossed the fine strands back. A blessing of a curse, quite honestly, she did not know. The lone blank print stood bold against the golden rod surface. But of course, there was things to be done, places to go, people to visit, and assignments to complete. She cannot loiter in her mornings for too long, now can she? It would become her leisure time, she decided, as the dawn reined forever longer then she had thought. This stroll too, she decided, would come to an end when the sun breaks the dawns rein. A very cheap game to play when clouds hovered above her head, fog drenched the air, and the morning tisk of cold remained fresh in her mouth.
Paint a picture through the eyes of one who cannot see, for the ears of someone who cannot hear, and with a variety of paint that is only gray.
