Foot of The Cross
09-13-2013, 09:52 AM
Underneath that glamourous facade was something more sinister: it was black and wet, coiling within the confines of her subconscious cages. It was faceless and vague, but it's intentions were obvious with every contraction of her heart. Karmen homed something far more malignant than he obsession with handsome men, more poisonous than her lechery. More than filthy sex with a stranger, more than tainted romance or admiring herself in a mirror of water. Karmen lusted for power above all else, she yearned for control She had never muddled with bloodshed - not yet, for the items of her desire were usually handed to her when demanded and there was no need to get physically violent, but in a world with no mother at the whim of Karmen, no slaves or peons to kiss her feet, her habits of seizure had become murky. She was growing careless with how she might obtain her throne. The rain began to fall fast and hard, wetting her golden locks against her curvesome body. She gazed at the stranger who stood before her - a man of little words and blurred intentions. She could feel the burn in her posterior begin to dull, but she smirked nevertheless, batting her thick lashes. "I refuse to let me and my potential go to waste for anything less." Immaculate genes, a charming vocabulary, and the desire to disastrously dictate the entire world. She was not a wolf for any ordinary man to have. talking to you |