30 April 2012
That girl is just a child.
She's wearing a black Victorian-age gown that would be reserved for mourning. It's sheer silk, lace, and velvet combined. It's gothic and very beautiful, accentuating her childish hip bones and bosoms. It drifts into a tiered trail in the back, drifting behind her just as gracefully when she walks.
Her long, luscious, starless night-colored hair is wound away from her face, brushing down to her back. Her face is round and her blood-red lipstick stands out against her ever-pale skin. Her dark, nearly black, eyes look with a kid-like curiously at things. But upon further inspection, you notice they are full of things she's learned, making you wonder how she can only be a child.
But, fools, she's only a child outside. The inside tells of her age, all 150 years that she's been alive.
She touches her reflection in the mirror. She, once again, wishes to age. To become a young woman in appearance, so everyone would take her seriously. Because nobody did, save her vampiric family.
"Lisabella." the youngest of her family, William, stands beside her, too close for comfort, his lips inches from her ear.
She turns quickly and hisses at him, her fangs a menace to the newly turned boy. He startles backwards, casting her a hesitant look.
"What do you want?" Lisabella pulls on satin gloves over her pale, bony fingers.
"Master Luciel sent me to..." the boy gulps audibly as Lisabella pulls a pearl choker tight against her throat, causing visible bruises to form. "To tell you it's time to go."
"Excellent." she already knew this. Fastening the choker, the bruises disappear just as fast as they formed. She turns her full attention to the boy.
He begins to struggle under the mental strain she puts on him. After a full minute of satisfyingly watching him fight and sink against her power, she leaves him to lay on the floor, gasping.
Childish Girl • Opuss № I