A young woman with piercing blue eyes in tight leather armor accentuating her body. Ribbons of red, gold and green are tied loosely on her wrists and neck. Her armor is almost white but is really a shade of lavender. Gold filigree is stitched into the wrists and skirt. The top and bottom armor are separated by a short skirt with the sides cut off and nothing but a few gold chains on her side. She wears very little but a white cloak can conceal all she is if it were pulled tight. Her lip almost always has a long slender cigarette in it and golden hoop earings are her typical style aside from armor.
The entire outfit is build to allow her to move, and it must be quite a sight to see her move. There is a serenity about her which floats around her like the smell of her perfume. You have the feeling she would help you out of trouble regardless the consequences to herself. Upon closer inspection you see her painted nails also hold words of power in each one. Upon closer inspection you see her painted nails also hold words of power in each one. No wonder she carries no weapon, she doesn't need any.
Showing posts with label Sayoko. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sayoko. Show all posts
Becoming The Heart Line
(A simple cloth bound diary sits here, waiting for someone to turn the pages, to experience what it took to walk such a hard line. You turn it open and realize it's blank! Then suddenly the pages whirl and you see a date almost 15 years ago and then you are sucked inside the diary with a popping noise and in a puff of rose petals you vanish. The white book closes and none are the wiser for you being able to gaze into the past.)
Laughter, it's from a child. A young girl runs through the tall grass of her homeland toward her father. He scoops her into his arms and twirls her about and she squeals in delight. The day is warm with a gentle breeze that cools you to contentment. Following the young girl and her father you watch the fields yield to a small cottage with a large yard. Wooden constructs are scattered about the yard. There is a man walking between the wooden constructs suspended by a rope. Carefully he places one foot in front of the other until he finds the next wooden platform. This man dressed in simple cloths just like the father and daughter smiled at them and gave a short bow to which the little girl clapped.
"I'm going to do it this time!" She exclaimed and climbed up to the man who helpeder her onto the platform.
"Remember, my angel, balance flows through you naturally. Release that which weighs you down and you won't tip over one way or the other!" The father took up a position under the rope to catch the girl if needed. The girl kicked off her shoes and socks and felt inched her way to the rope. The course fibers poked at her feet with the rope pulled so tight, but she had gotten over that a while ago. She held out her hands to steady herself then took the first step. Her legs tense and the rope shakes slightly but again she steady's herself. Another step and the girl breathes in and then steps again. About halfway through, the tight line beneath her begins to shake under her wobbling legs and after some gesticulating she falls into her fathers arms.
The image shifts and you are in a crowded market, the father and man from the last are suspended from buildings by the same kind of rope. They do tricks and juggle atop the rope. It's as if they're more at home walking the line than standing on the ground. The little girl looked upward with other onlookers and then suddenly the scene stops.
Laughter, it's from a child. A young girl runs through the tall grass of her homeland toward her father. He scoops her into his arms and twirls her about and she squeals in delight. The day is warm with a gentle breeze that cools you to contentment. Following the young girl and her father you watch the fields yield to a small cottage with a large yard. Wooden constructs are scattered about the yard. There is a man walking between the wooden constructs suspended by a rope. Carefully he places one foot in front of the other until he finds the next wooden platform. This man dressed in simple cloths just like the father and daughter smiled at them and gave a short bow to which the little girl clapped.
"I'm going to do it this time!" She exclaimed and climbed up to the man who helpeder her onto the platform.
"Remember, my angel, balance flows through you naturally. Release that which weighs you down and you won't tip over one way or the other!" The father took up a position under the rope to catch the girl if needed. The girl kicked off her shoes and socks and felt inched her way to the rope. The course fibers poked at her feet with the rope pulled so tight, but she had gotten over that a while ago. She held out her hands to steady herself then took the first step. Her legs tense and the rope shakes slightly but again she steady's herself. Another step and the girl breathes in and then steps again. About halfway through, the tight line beneath her begins to shake under her wobbling legs and after some gesticulating she falls into her fathers arms.
The image shifts and you are in a crowded market, the father and man from the last are suspended from buildings by the same kind of rope. They do tricks and juggle atop the rope. It's as if they're more at home walking the line than standing on the ground. The little girl looked upward with other onlookers and then suddenly the scene stops.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)