Marley
New Member
Everyone is a bit different, that is how the great stories are made. Some are tall, some rather short. Ava was many things and more. Lanky, with blonde hair that would blind one if they gazed upon her in the summer sun. A witty smile, a twitching nose all wrapped up in a bundle of sheep's wool. This is a girl who would have captured the attention of any folk who happened to cross paths with this child. At least, this is what could have been.
See, everyone is a bit different. Ava was just a little more so. Sometimes different is not a good thing. Sometimes it leads one down dark alleys where one wished not to go. Most find themselves alone at the end. This, may or may not be one of those stories.
This night marked the beginning, where one story starts and another ends. Here, by a shimmering pool lay a mother and a bundle cooing. The woman knelt near the waters, the words of her story running thin. She unwrapped her bundle, laid the contents out upon the ground and began to sob. Small fingers tipped in ashy black entwined themselves with the woman's curly locks, her sharp blue eyes peering into the woman's own.
"There there, my sweet little one. . ." The lady cooed back, lifting the small pale child from the blanket.
In the blinding light of the new moon sky was a child born with a black heart. A heart of pure malice and cruelty. A heart that many believed to have no place among the living or the dead. A heart that the desperate mother hoped might be healed.
She dipped her child's feet into the shimmering waters. Then the legs, followed by the torso, arms, and neck until the child was submerged to the neck in the cool crystalline waters. A soft blue glow illuminated the baby and her mother. The woman smiled as she watched the magic take effect upon her dear child's heart. The black ash was swept from the infant's body, banished one speck at a time to the depths of the abyss. The color began to fill the child's heart, mind, and body. The pink glow of humanity spreading everywhere except a small mark on the child's chest. The process was nearly complete, but the mother was too late.
Ava's mother, her story ended abruptly with a lead slug rattling about inside her, dropped to the floor. The hopeful smile from her lips dissipated among the stars of the night as her child lay crying. The gun, the shotgun that had ended many stories in their tracks was smoking with another page ripped from the book of life.
That shotgun now hung above the hearth of a father, who loved his wispy haired daughter like nothing else. The daughter; unaware that the ink spilling weapon that started her own grand book was only a few feet from her own heart. A girl, on an airship, bound for adventure at every turn of the wind.
That is a Marleyesque Beginning
See, everyone is a bit different. Ava was just a little more so. Sometimes different is not a good thing. Sometimes it leads one down dark alleys where one wished not to go. Most find themselves alone at the end. This, may or may not be one of those stories.
This night marked the beginning, where one story starts and another ends. Here, by a shimmering pool lay a mother and a bundle cooing. The woman knelt near the waters, the words of her story running thin. She unwrapped her bundle, laid the contents out upon the ground and began to sob. Small fingers tipped in ashy black entwined themselves with the woman's curly locks, her sharp blue eyes peering into the woman's own.
"There there, my sweet little one. . ." The lady cooed back, lifting the small pale child from the blanket.
In the blinding light of the new moon sky was a child born with a black heart. A heart of pure malice and cruelty. A heart that many believed to have no place among the living or the dead. A heart that the desperate mother hoped might be healed.
She dipped her child's feet into the shimmering waters. Then the legs, followed by the torso, arms, and neck until the child was submerged to the neck in the cool crystalline waters. A soft blue glow illuminated the baby and her mother. The woman smiled as she watched the magic take effect upon her dear child's heart. The black ash was swept from the infant's body, banished one speck at a time to the depths of the abyss. The color began to fill the child's heart, mind, and body. The pink glow of humanity spreading everywhere except a small mark on the child's chest. The process was nearly complete, but the mother was too late.
Ava's mother, her story ended abruptly with a lead slug rattling about inside her, dropped to the floor. The hopeful smile from her lips dissipated among the stars of the night as her child lay crying. The gun, the shotgun that had ended many stories in their tracks was smoking with another page ripped from the book of life.
That shotgun now hung above the hearth of a father, who loved his wispy haired daughter like nothing else. The daughter; unaware that the ink spilling weapon that started her own grand book was only a few feet from her own heart. A girl, on an airship, bound for adventure at every turn of the wind.
That is a Marleyesque Beginning