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Feb. 1st, 2005 11:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
locks_it_upDeath walks the Sunless Lands.
Somewhere on the outermost borders, where things are... thin. Thin for Death, at least. She's pretty much a black-and-white kind of girl, but even she has her gray areas.
She stands at the edge of the horizon-- if it can be called a horizon-- bathed in a dusky glow. She reaches up to touch something that could be mistaken for sky, to trace the scars there. Scars shaped like runes.
At her back, there is... absence. She turns to look, but of course it's not there. Why should it be?
The place where Nyarlathotep rests is achingly empty, like a pulled tooth.
She needs a drink.
Somewhere on the outermost borders, where things are... thin. Thin for Death, at least. She's pretty much a black-and-white kind of girl, but even she has her gray areas.
She stands at the edge of the horizon-- if it can be called a horizon-- bathed in a dusky glow. She reaches up to touch something that could be mistaken for sky, to trace the scars there. Scars shaped like runes.
At her back, there is... absence. She turns to look, but of course it's not there. Why should it be?
The place where Nyarlathotep rests is achingly empty, like a pulled tooth.
She needs a drink.
