Post by .conniption;;erika on Mar 8, 2008 18:51:53 GMT -5
Give us this day our daily dose of faux a f f l i c t i o n
B A S I C
Name:
Erika Leanne Bransom, pachow! Call me erik or die, well actually be mauled by a cookie. O.o
Age:
nineteen, unfortunately.
Height:
five feet plus five inches, damn straight.
Gender:
gal; it has it's advantages...occasionally.
Ethnicity:
slightly Caucasian I suppose.
Birthdate:
july eighteenth...cheesenip.
Y O U
Class:
middle, more or most likely less.
Intelligence:
one could say she is of average intelligence, though what you don't know is that Erika is quite smart. A straight A student all her life. However unlike some she doesn't flaunt it or hide it, instead Erika gives the credit to her well of random facts. Yes, yes, random facts. It's her, truly what were you expecting?
Talents && Hobbies:
most find that Erik has many interesting talents, all of which are beneficial in their own way. A terrific cook, an interest and skill passed down from her mom. A few more talents include drawing, her aspiration to someday run her own restaurant and have her paintings in an art gallery, or sell some sketches for money. Then there is always her writing, most finding her stories, poems, and songs quite captivating, innovating, or some have even called a few inspiring, however she plans to go no where with her writing, more or less it's out of habit/hobby then anything. Next there is a life long accomplishment; ballet, she has been doing ballet since she was two, though quit about three years ago, now she does it just for fun. Last on the list of talents is the drums, Erika taught herself at the age of ten to play the drums, joining the schools drum line in high school. At one point she was even in a band, though it has always only been for fun. A habit picked up as a child has turned into a hobby, an obsession at times; cleaning, her pet peeve being disorder, well in her house at least, though her car is another matter, so long as her house is clean and organized she's good. Next wood be singing, more often then not you'll find Erik singing along to a song on the radio or playing in a club or various other places, it's also not uncommon to hear her singing a song stuck in her head, just of the blue. Next is meditation, a daily ritual, finding it helps her. Lastly horseback riding has been a long term hobby, she started when she was five and hasn't stopped since owning two of her own; a ten year old percheron named Augustin and a five month old mini shetland cross named nemo.
Clothing && Accessories:
What ever suits her fancy at random moments, she's not exactly the most fashionable, if it looks fun and is comfortable she'll wear it. Jeans are the typical uniform for her, the tops varying. Although apparel isn't her forte she has far too many clothes, most of which she hardly ever wears, though it's always nice to have random things handy. Accessories on the hand are her favorite, she love playing with make up and looking silly as well as finding amusing earrings or necklaces, never leaving the house with out wearing her hundreds of jelly bracelets most being black but varying. Now that is her obsession; jelly bracelets. An entire droor in her burow is dedicated to her millions of jelly bracelets all different colors. Along with that she quite likes shoes, all different kinds, if they look cute and kind of fit she'll get them.
Tastes:
shiny things are always a bonus, but that's besides the point, she likes unique things. Bright colors or dark colors, if it looks fun it suits her. All in all it depends on her mood, which is a wild card each and every day, so good luck.
F A V O R I T E S
Book:
Honestly there are too many to name, however two of her favorite authors are edgar allen poe & ellen hopkins. Erika enjoys realistic fiction works more or less, it depends though, oddly enough it seems to her like a good book will choose you. The main reason why she spends hours in a book store looking for a new read.
Band:
many, many, many, many different bands have her admiration, though she particularly likes semi precious weapons, cambiata, pierce the vail, cute is what we aim for, lannen fall, sparks the rescue, and underoath.
Place:
no where, Erika likes to drive to no where, making a point to get lost, why? Well does she truly need a reason?
Color:
none really, she likes all colors, each having there own significance.
Food:
chicken, cheese, & cinnamon sugar wraps.
Drink:
lots but the top three would have to be green tea, Vodka, & bacardi rum 151.
Activity:
horse back riding, dancing like a mad fiend, ballet.
Out on the Town:
book stores, clubs, going to go see a good band, most places that find fake IDs convincing.
P H Y S I C A L
Eyes:
Erika has what they call 'doe eyes'. They are big and brown, so dark at a quick glance some mistake them for black, though they are plain they are quite pretty.
Complexion:
Teeth:
Every dentists dream, they are a blinding white and are perfectly straight, they are simply a perfect of teeth. However she never really shows them off, preferring to smile without them.
Hair:
A chaotic mess of thick naturally curly locks that stop just a little past her shoulder, though she changes it a lot, so you never really know what's next for her ebony stands.
Posture:
Impeccable posture, this attributed to step mother as well as years of ballet.
Most Noticeable:
It depends really, it's between her legs, her eyes, and her hair.
Extra:
A pierced belly button and pierced ears are always nice, throw in a tattoo or two and tada; you've got erik.
M E N T A L
Aspirations:
As a child she desired to become the prima ballerina, then the drummer of a band, and now finally she has decided what she wants for her future; to open up her own restaurant or cafe and possibly become an artist.
Flaws:
Has a tendency to take things too lightly resulting in her needing a little help in realizing the true gravity of a situation. For instance if she falls down three flights of stairs and her ankle is broken she'll most likely be in pain but she'd also laugh and think she's just being absurd. Or if someone was flirting with her she'd be completely oblivious to the fact no matter how obvious it was.
Strengths:
Sticking by someone when they need her even if they don't think they do, seeing people for what they are, and confidence.
Fear:
It may sound odd, but giving up is her biggest fear, you see she has it in her head that giving up/giving in would make her end up like her parents, stuck in the same old town for her whole life and eventually leading the life of her mother, something neither wanted for her.
Habits:
cleaning excessively so, singing along with songs, biting her nails, and never knowing/caring when she's had too much to drink.
Responsibility:
Very responsible, surprisingly enough.
Generosity && Confidence:
confidence plays a big part in her genetic make up, and she is anything but stingy.
Humor:
A very fond lover of laughing, also her sarcasm can be humorous at times.
Attitude:
Queen bitch herself, well at times, more or less she doesn't have an issue with you unless you have an issue with her or one of her friends, then beware. One things for sure she has no qualms with putting her fist in someones face.
B A C K G R O U N D
Mother:
Aliza Marie Morrin
Father:
Michigan Allan Bransom
Parents' Occupations:
mother; waitress
father; lawyer
Parents' Status && Relationship:
mother; deceased
father; rich and arrogant
they were never married nor did they ever 'love' each other, it was merely a fling resulting in a kid.
Parents' Residence:
Cincinnati, Ohio
H I S T O R Y && GENERAL
Erika Leanne Bransom, a product of a faulty condom. Mr. Michigan Bransom, a successful young lawyer from Connecticut, in his late thirties, married, three kids. Ms. Aliza Morrin, waitress, twenty three, single, no kids, no aspirations, no hope of anything but a mediocre life, well that's what she thought. A cold day in December found the two adults in a hotel room, though that wouldn't be their last time, nope. She was under the impression that he was single and he was under the impression that he didn't really care. Well it wasn't long after that Ms. Morrin found out Mr. Bransom was married and not long after that they both found out that she was indeed pregnant. Born two months early the tiny little mishap was an unwelcome but still somehow loved surprise. Michigan put his name on the birth certificate not wanting to ditch his kid, convicing himself that he wasn't like that. Mrs. Bransom knew about the baby and although wasn't thrilled decided she'd except the child being the mother of three boys she had always wanted a girl. An agreement was reached, Michigan & Sarah Bransom would gain custody of Erika every week end while during the week she lived with Aliza Morrin.
There was no doubt that Erika was loved, especially by her mother. Her memories and dreams filled with her mother even now, looking back on the days of baking cookies and coloring at one of the booths at the diner. However Erika never liked her father much and she deeply despised her step mother, the evil woman pushing her to do better then any other, the reason why ballet was the focus of her young years, the cause of her strive for excellence in school. Much of her life was split, happy fun filled frivolous days spent with her young mother and prim, proper, awful weekends spent with her step mother, her father too busy to spend time with his daughter, no doubt screwing some other woman. A bittersweet childhood, one she can't quite decide her opinion of.
At age nine her world crashed and burned, biting her right in the arse. Her mother was on her way to pick her up from her father's, it was sunday night, six o'clok sharp, she was never late, but that night she was. Erika's mother never showed up, the little girl never saw her again. She wasn't allowed to go to the funeral, her step mother refusing to let her go, the cook convinced that it would cause her to turn into one of those serial killers, ya her step mother was rather pathetic. Erika spent the next eleven years of her life in the hell whole that was her father's house, constantly tortured and hounded by her step mother, overly out casted by her half brothers. School seemed to be her only sanctuary, there she was free to be herself, well so long as she got good grades. There Sarah Bransom couldn't sink those claws into her. High school by far was the best, partying, hanging out, being herself. Before long Erika was in pretty much ever club trying to waist time after school, spending the remaining time at the barn or at a friend's house, usually Valera's.
As soon as she turned eighteen she was out of there, moving into a new apartment the very same day, disowning her father and his stuck up family, legally emancipating
herself a few months later, though keeping her name knowing her mother would want that. For the next year or so she spent lived in Cincinnati, deciding randomly one day to move, feeling the urge for change, so now Erika has joined her friend her in Glen Oaks, hoping this place might provide the change she's in need of.
S A M P L E P O S T
this is from another rpg, it's kind of old and for a completely different character so if you would like a new one don't hesitate to ask
Name:
Erika Leanne Bransom, pachow! Call me erik or die, well actually be mauled by a cookie. O.o
Age:
nineteen, unfortunately.
Height:
five feet plus five inches, damn straight.
Gender:
gal; it has it's advantages...occasionally.
Ethnicity:
slightly Caucasian I suppose.
Birthdate:
july eighteenth...cheesenip.
Y O U
Class:
middle, more or most likely less.
Intelligence:
one could say she is of average intelligence, though what you don't know is that Erika is quite smart. A straight A student all her life. However unlike some she doesn't flaunt it or hide it, instead Erika gives the credit to her well of random facts. Yes, yes, random facts. It's her, truly what were you expecting?
Talents && Hobbies:
most find that Erik has many interesting talents, all of which are beneficial in their own way. A terrific cook, an interest and skill passed down from her mom. A few more talents include drawing, her aspiration to someday run her own restaurant and have her paintings in an art gallery, or sell some sketches for money. Then there is always her writing, most finding her stories, poems, and songs quite captivating, innovating, or some have even called a few inspiring, however she plans to go no where with her writing, more or less it's out of habit/hobby then anything. Next there is a life long accomplishment; ballet, she has been doing ballet since she was two, though quit about three years ago, now she does it just for fun. Last on the list of talents is the drums, Erika taught herself at the age of ten to play the drums, joining the schools drum line in high school. At one point she was even in a band, though it has always only been for fun. A habit picked up as a child has turned into a hobby, an obsession at times; cleaning, her pet peeve being disorder, well in her house at least, though her car is another matter, so long as her house is clean and organized she's good. Next wood be singing, more often then not you'll find Erik singing along to a song on the radio or playing in a club or various other places, it's also not uncommon to hear her singing a song stuck in her head, just of the blue. Next is meditation, a daily ritual, finding it helps her. Lastly horseback riding has been a long term hobby, she started when she was five and hasn't stopped since owning two of her own; a ten year old percheron named Augustin and a five month old mini shetland cross named nemo.
Clothing && Accessories:
What ever suits her fancy at random moments, she's not exactly the most fashionable, if it looks fun and is comfortable she'll wear it. Jeans are the typical uniform for her, the tops varying. Although apparel isn't her forte she has far too many clothes, most of which she hardly ever wears, though it's always nice to have random things handy. Accessories on the hand are her favorite, she love playing with make up and looking silly as well as finding amusing earrings or necklaces, never leaving the house with out wearing her hundreds of jelly bracelets most being black but varying. Now that is her obsession; jelly bracelets. An entire droor in her burow is dedicated to her millions of jelly bracelets all different colors. Along with that she quite likes shoes, all different kinds, if they look cute and kind of fit she'll get them.
Tastes:
shiny things are always a bonus, but that's besides the point, she likes unique things. Bright colors or dark colors, if it looks fun it suits her. All in all it depends on her mood, which is a wild card each and every day, so good luck.
F A V O R I T E S
Book:
Honestly there are too many to name, however two of her favorite authors are edgar allen poe & ellen hopkins. Erika enjoys realistic fiction works more or less, it depends though, oddly enough it seems to her like a good book will choose you. The main reason why she spends hours in a book store looking for a new read.
Band:
many, many, many, many different bands have her admiration, though she particularly likes semi precious weapons, cambiata, pierce the vail, cute is what we aim for, lannen fall, sparks the rescue, and underoath.
Place:
no where, Erika likes to drive to no where, making a point to get lost, why? Well does she truly need a reason?
Color:
none really, she likes all colors, each having there own significance.
Food:
chicken, cheese, & cinnamon sugar wraps.
Drink:
lots but the top three would have to be green tea, Vodka, & bacardi rum 151.
Activity:
horse back riding, dancing like a mad fiend, ballet.
Out on the Town:
book stores, clubs, going to go see a good band, most places that find fake IDs convincing.
P H Y S I C A L
Eyes:
Erika has what they call 'doe eyes'. They are big and brown, so dark at a quick glance some mistake them for black, though they are plain they are quite pretty.
Complexion:
Teeth:
Every dentists dream, they are a blinding white and are perfectly straight, they are simply a perfect of teeth. However she never really shows them off, preferring to smile without them.
Hair:
A chaotic mess of thick naturally curly locks that stop just a little past her shoulder, though she changes it a lot, so you never really know what's next for her ebony stands.
Posture:
Impeccable posture, this attributed to step mother as well as years of ballet.
Most Noticeable:
It depends really, it's between her legs, her eyes, and her hair.
Extra:
A pierced belly button and pierced ears are always nice, throw in a tattoo or two and tada; you've got erik.
M E N T A L
Aspirations:
As a child she desired to become the prima ballerina, then the drummer of a band, and now finally she has decided what she wants for her future; to open up her own restaurant or cafe and possibly become an artist.
Flaws:
Has a tendency to take things too lightly resulting in her needing a little help in realizing the true gravity of a situation. For instance if she falls down three flights of stairs and her ankle is broken she'll most likely be in pain but she'd also laugh and think she's just being absurd. Or if someone was flirting with her she'd be completely oblivious to the fact no matter how obvious it was.
Strengths:
Sticking by someone when they need her even if they don't think they do, seeing people for what they are, and confidence.
Fear:
It may sound odd, but giving up is her biggest fear, you see she has it in her head that giving up/giving in would make her end up like her parents, stuck in the same old town for her whole life and eventually leading the life of her mother, something neither wanted for her.
Habits:
cleaning excessively so, singing along with songs, biting her nails, and never knowing/caring when she's had too much to drink.
Responsibility:
Very responsible, surprisingly enough.
Generosity && Confidence:
confidence plays a big part in her genetic make up, and she is anything but stingy.
Humor:
A very fond lover of laughing, also her sarcasm can be humorous at times.
Attitude:
Queen bitch herself, well at times, more or less she doesn't have an issue with you unless you have an issue with her or one of her friends, then beware. One things for sure she has no qualms with putting her fist in someones face.
B A C K G R O U N D
Mother:
Aliza Marie Morrin
Father:
Michigan Allan Bransom
Parents' Occupations:
mother; waitress
father; lawyer
Parents' Status && Relationship:
mother; deceased
father; rich and arrogant
they were never married nor did they ever 'love' each other, it was merely a fling resulting in a kid.
Parents' Residence:
Cincinnati, Ohio
H I S T O R Y && GENERAL
Erika Leanne Bransom, a product of a faulty condom. Mr. Michigan Bransom, a successful young lawyer from Connecticut, in his late thirties, married, three kids. Ms. Aliza Morrin, waitress, twenty three, single, no kids, no aspirations, no hope of anything but a mediocre life, well that's what she thought. A cold day in December found the two adults in a hotel room, though that wouldn't be their last time, nope. She was under the impression that he was single and he was under the impression that he didn't really care. Well it wasn't long after that Ms. Morrin found out Mr. Bransom was married and not long after that they both found out that she was indeed pregnant. Born two months early the tiny little mishap was an unwelcome but still somehow loved surprise. Michigan put his name on the birth certificate not wanting to ditch his kid, convicing himself that he wasn't like that. Mrs. Bransom knew about the baby and although wasn't thrilled decided she'd except the child being the mother of three boys she had always wanted a girl. An agreement was reached, Michigan & Sarah Bransom would gain custody of Erika every week end while during the week she lived with Aliza Morrin.
There was no doubt that Erika was loved, especially by her mother. Her memories and dreams filled with her mother even now, looking back on the days of baking cookies and coloring at one of the booths at the diner. However Erika never liked her father much and she deeply despised her step mother, the evil woman pushing her to do better then any other, the reason why ballet was the focus of her young years, the cause of her strive for excellence in school. Much of her life was split, happy fun filled frivolous days spent with her young mother and prim, proper, awful weekends spent with her step mother, her father too busy to spend time with his daughter, no doubt screwing some other woman. A bittersweet childhood, one she can't quite decide her opinion of.
At age nine her world crashed and burned, biting her right in the arse. Her mother was on her way to pick her up from her father's, it was sunday night, six o'clok sharp, she was never late, but that night she was. Erika's mother never showed up, the little girl never saw her again. She wasn't allowed to go to the funeral, her step mother refusing to let her go, the cook convinced that it would cause her to turn into one of those serial killers, ya her step mother was rather pathetic. Erika spent the next eleven years of her life in the hell whole that was her father's house, constantly tortured and hounded by her step mother, overly out casted by her half brothers. School seemed to be her only sanctuary, there she was free to be herself, well so long as she got good grades. There Sarah Bransom couldn't sink those claws into her. High school by far was the best, partying, hanging out, being herself. Before long Erika was in pretty much ever club trying to waist time after school, spending the remaining time at the barn or at a friend's house, usually Valera's.
As soon as she turned eighteen she was out of there, moving into a new apartment the very same day, disowning her father and his stuck up family, legally emancipating
herself a few months later, though keeping her name knowing her mother would want that. For the next year or so she spent lived in Cincinnati, deciding randomly one day to move, feeling the urge for change, so now Erika has joined her friend her in Glen Oaks, hoping this place might provide the change she's in need of.
S A M P L E P O S T
this is from another rpg, it's kind of old and for a completely different character so if you would like a new one don't hesitate to ask
Black locks were curled and fashioned in a way of simplicity, ebony hue contrasting greatly against her snow like complexion. The look was only matched by the startlingly pallid blue orbs which mirrored all she set them upon, somehow sights within the placid pools, where they became lost, as if she had never seen them at all. Her apparel was far to average for her cherub face, the layers drowning out her picture esq frame, making her simpler. Plainer. More mortal like. The apron around her waist seeming out of place, looking as if she were ready to cook or clean. The chiseled features beautiful but solid, giving a sturdy, meaning look to her face. The edges of her soft pale red lips twinged slightly at the sight, parting and stretching into a grin so glorious it would melt a glacier at first glance. The merciless cries brought a seeming glow to her face, brightening her, cheeks burning slightly flush, the youth of the new born rejuvenating her at it's very glimpse. The child was wrapped quickly, saving it's bare flesh from frost of an open window. A hand reached upward and palm opened, lips were puckered and brought to the flesh upon her open hand. Air escaped her warmly, masking as a draft, slamming the shutters shut, hiding the newly born child from the frost that lurked just out of reach. The babe was swaddled in it's mother's arms, the woman's worn looking youthful face far too warm and delightful to match the ghastly appearance the act of child birth had given her. It brought cheer to the goddess Emminay to see the new kindred spirits happy, the new human's sobs ceasing slowly. Hurriedly the goddess approached the dieing fire a quick gesture bringing back to life the further lighten the room and scare the chill from the families back. The new mother was unaware of the goddess smiling down upon them, unaware of the way Emminay admired the babe's fair hair, even though the amount of the stuff was little and barely visible. The new mother was unknowing of how the figure wanted to reach out and cradle the wrinkled weeping bundle in her arms. The woman was so unaware of the goddess blessing the new born as it entered this earth, how she watched to ensure that both remained safe as the infant and mother both experienced a thing that could not compare to any other event.
The unseen Deity approached the bed side slowly, watching the child and mother as they bonded over words unspoken, it was a rare event that she descended to witness a birth. It was a special cause however, this babe had a plan set for him, he had a journey like know other, and so he was blessed by the goddess, a thing most welcoming, a thing of safe passage and best wishes. After he would descend into manhood she no longer would have a staked claim on him for no longer would her be in her charge, so her blessing was all that she could give. She reached the bedside and admired the child, her arm extended, hovering over the child afraid to touch the babe in fear of harming him. Instead she extended a finger and wiped away a stray tear snapping her hand back in a movement far to quick, no mortal would have noticed as she consumed the tear, her action far too quick as well as ridiculous, the salty liquid staling her mouth. A murmur was heard from the child in reflex to the goddess' touch, a finger crossed her lips and a faint hush sound escaped her, the sound warm and melodic, like a summer breeze taking shape as a lullaby. The infant slept on, but now Emminay's placid pools were centered on the child's mother. The young thing was weak, fragile, breakable, breaking her life thread with every breathe. Unfortunately the woman's fate had been sealed with the child's conception, now there was but one order to be carried out. A midwife rushed to the bedside stealing the babe away to it's crib, fixing a concoction for the woman in hopes of making her well once more. The unseen goddess smiled warmly at the new mother, her gaze intent and dreading of what she had to do. A pale hand brushed back the eschew hair upon the new mother's brow, pale red lips pressing icily upon the womans skin, a single tear escaping the goddess' left eye. The hand moved passed the fore head to her ear pulling back the hair "'tis your time Lenia" the Deity whispered faintly the wind carrying it finalizing the woman's fate. Emminay turned quickly and approached the midwife catching her from the back and whispering in her ear "go to your charge" the mid wife did just in time for the woman's heart to ware out and fade to nothing. The goddess had not been heard, but a Deity's will be done, and as the goddess of women and of the birth of life her unheard words were more then enough to force bidding to be done.
The child went into up roar when the heart beat of his mother, his life giver, ceased. The bond severed abruptly, a bond that had been formed but newly remained strong none the less, that is until the youthful, lifeless woman took her end with her far beyond the nile of the dead into the deathly hollows where she would now call home. The goddess watched as the midwife scurried over to tend to the child, the only thing left of the corpse on the bed. Emminay turned her back on the seen walking back to the shadows to disappear once more unto her home, the words falling from her mouth obscure and odd
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named Night,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule —
From a wild weird clime, that lieth, sublime,
Out of Space — out of Time.
They made no sense. Or did they?
poem credit to EA Poe's Dream-land, first part
The unseen Deity approached the bed side slowly, watching the child and mother as they bonded over words unspoken, it was a rare event that she descended to witness a birth. It was a special cause however, this babe had a plan set for him, he had a journey like know other, and so he was blessed by the goddess, a thing most welcoming, a thing of safe passage and best wishes. After he would descend into manhood she no longer would have a staked claim on him for no longer would her be in her charge, so her blessing was all that she could give. She reached the bedside and admired the child, her arm extended, hovering over the child afraid to touch the babe in fear of harming him. Instead she extended a finger and wiped away a stray tear snapping her hand back in a movement far to quick, no mortal would have noticed as she consumed the tear, her action far too quick as well as ridiculous, the salty liquid staling her mouth. A murmur was heard from the child in reflex to the goddess' touch, a finger crossed her lips and a faint hush sound escaped her, the sound warm and melodic, like a summer breeze taking shape as a lullaby. The infant slept on, but now Emminay's placid pools were centered on the child's mother. The young thing was weak, fragile, breakable, breaking her life thread with every breathe. Unfortunately the woman's fate had been sealed with the child's conception, now there was but one order to be carried out. A midwife rushed to the bedside stealing the babe away to it's crib, fixing a concoction for the woman in hopes of making her well once more. The unseen goddess smiled warmly at the new mother, her gaze intent and dreading of what she had to do. A pale hand brushed back the eschew hair upon the new mother's brow, pale red lips pressing icily upon the womans skin, a single tear escaping the goddess' left eye. The hand moved passed the fore head to her ear pulling back the hair "'tis your time Lenia" the Deity whispered faintly the wind carrying it finalizing the woman's fate. Emminay turned quickly and approached the midwife catching her from the back and whispering in her ear "go to your charge" the mid wife did just in time for the woman's heart to ware out and fade to nothing. The goddess had not been heard, but a Deity's will be done, and as the goddess of women and of the birth of life her unheard words were more then enough to force bidding to be done.
The child went into up roar when the heart beat of his mother, his life giver, ceased. The bond severed abruptly, a bond that had been formed but newly remained strong none the less, that is until the youthful, lifeless woman took her end with her far beyond the nile of the dead into the deathly hollows where she would now call home. The goddess watched as the midwife scurried over to tend to the child, the only thing left of the corpse on the bed. Emminay turned her back on the seen walking back to the shadows to disappear once more unto her home, the words falling from her mouth obscure and odd
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named Night,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule —
From a wild weird clime, that lieth, sublime,
Out of Space — out of Time.
They made no sense. Or did they?
poem credit to EA Poe's Dream-land, first part
