![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm intoxicated with you
Wanted to write something original tonight, from my Pandora project, but my brain is so crapped out that I couldn't make anything of it. So I have water-logged emo Roimata instead (thank you for the suggestion, Kol ;-; )
Series: Arcadia
Character: Roimata Liron/Orpheus (two years prior to game-start)
The water was gray and black by the time it trickled this low into the city, carrying all of the sediment and grime from the upper echelons down, down to where it would pool upon the poorest and lowest. It covered the sidewalks and roads, moved as rivers of their own, sent trash scattered and sailing. The smell of rot hung thick even in the air, a fog of pollution. The young man looked half-drowned when he emerged at the downtown intersection, without a jacket, without even an umbrella. He moved as if dreaming, unaware of even his own steps, his only interest in the faces around him.
He looked for her in the main thoroughfare's crowd, cut through the thickest of it and shoved so many people in his pursuit, desperate for sight of her stained nickel hair or her nose ring or the long elegance of her neck. The crowd was big, but there were not too many people that he felt confused. He walked another circle about it to be sure, but he had lost hope in this crowd. He knew it as he knew his heart. She simply was not here.
So, he turned away. From the crowded street he retreated, running towards the smaller roads and by-ways tucked behind and between towering hovels. He had not been back to the bar in two nights, and they would not miss him for another few hours if he wished to make the best of this third day. He would not last longer than that though, he had to admit to himself. Exhaustion and sickness already numbed him, made him this fool who stumbled down barren alleyways. He came to a dead end, seeing only a blank wall at the end of this path. Just as he had seen nothing of her in all of the paths he had traveled so far.
"Addie," he whispered into the empty alley, which he knew was a piss-poor way of trying to find someone. But he couldn't bring out his voice, and hadn't since she had disappeared, not for more than whispers of her name into darkness. Sabri squeezed the antique locket in his hand, pressed it against his heart. His only comfort was that it ticked in quiet solidarity to his lifeblood's beat.
Series: Arcadia
Character: Roimata Liron/Orpheus (two years prior to game-start)
The water was gray and black by the time it trickled this low into the city, carrying all of the sediment and grime from the upper echelons down, down to where it would pool upon the poorest and lowest. It covered the sidewalks and roads, moved as rivers of their own, sent trash scattered and sailing. The smell of rot hung thick even in the air, a fog of pollution. The young man looked half-drowned when he emerged at the downtown intersection, without a jacket, without even an umbrella. He moved as if dreaming, unaware of even his own steps, his only interest in the faces around him.
He looked for her in the main thoroughfare's crowd, cut through the thickest of it and shoved so many people in his pursuit, desperate for sight of her stained nickel hair or her nose ring or the long elegance of her neck. The crowd was big, but there were not too many people that he felt confused. He walked another circle about it to be sure, but he had lost hope in this crowd. He knew it as he knew his heart. She simply was not here.
So, he turned away. From the crowded street he retreated, running towards the smaller roads and by-ways tucked behind and between towering hovels. He had not been back to the bar in two nights, and they would not miss him for another few hours if he wished to make the best of this third day. He would not last longer than that though, he had to admit to himself. Exhaustion and sickness already numbed him, made him this fool who stumbled down barren alleyways. He came to a dead end, seeing only a blank wall at the end of this path. Just as he had seen nothing of her in all of the paths he had traveled so far.
"Addie," he whispered into the empty alley, which he knew was a piss-poor way of trying to find someone. But he couldn't bring out his voice, and hadn't since she had disappeared, not for more than whispers of her name into darkness. Sabri squeezed the antique locket in his hand, pressed it against his heart. His only comfort was that it ticked in quiet solidarity to his lifeblood's beat.