[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by [b.r.] AQUILA on February 26, 2009, 10:02 pm, in reply to "like a polaroid picture? "
69.254.67.177
Aquila doesn't know why she comes. She just does. Her legs are numb, as is every part of her body. Those eyes flow like the waters of the ocean, and there is the distinct recognition of what she is doing. But she is not entirely in control. That is, she is in less control than usual. Aquila's movement is like that of a zombie.
As she makes her entrance, the world might as well have stopped around her. Aquila is liquid rage, a walking maelstrom. And as she moves, she moves with a distinct purpose. She hears The Savage's words and watches The Pagan deal her damage. Aquila doesn't wait her turn. Instead, she barrels into the waiting figure of the golden warrior. The full force of the ocean crashes against the skin as the earth disrupts its power. Aquila kicks, bites, snarls and breaks what she can. Hers is a damage from the depths of Solira's baleful angst.
And then she is finished, with a great heaping final blow that comes across flesh. Her eyes watch the golden warrior with shock at what she has done. They say what her mouth struggles to say: Please forgive me.
I know not what I do.
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