Post by ᴄʀʏsᴛᴀʟғʀᴏsᴛ on Sept 25, 2013 1:46:42 GMT -5
Multicolored lights flashed upon the hardwoods of the living room, though the furniture had been moved for the event. A party; something the male held every single night in order to keep himself sane. It was hard being different. And though in this world everyone was different, he felt he had been secluded for a reason. Maybe because of his past. Maybe because of his present. He knew he wasn't doing much to keep himself concealed, but... What was the point in staying hidden? He had hid for so many years now... So many years... He was tired of it. He wanted to be seen. To be heard. Maybe...
And then as soon as the hopeful thought appeared it vanished. The brunette shook his head, softly gelled spikes moving gently due to the movement. He swirled a black-nailed fingertip lightly along the rim of his textured glass, staring into its alcoholic depths as if looking for a solution to his life's problems. No one would be able to understand him. It had happened so long ago, no one probably could. It wasn't as if it was written down in any records. It wasn't important enough to be. But he knew.
Phoenix knew. He knew the truth of his life. Of what a monster he was. And as cliche as it may sound, he was one. At least, in his eyes he was. What he had done when he was only eight... No one could come back from that alive, or even sane. That's why he had these parties. He surrounded himself in the laughter, the lust, the music, in order to drown out the depressing and sadistic side of himself so he didn't end up cutting more marks into his arms and legs. So he didn't end up putting himself through hell in order to make himself feel better for just an hour.
Damn, he was dark. And yet, so were his memories.
---
TJ loved Downworlder parties. He knew he should stay away, that most Downworlders hated his kind, but mundane parties were just no fun. Shadowhunters didn't throw the greatest parties, either. They were all uptight and proper, not a real bash like this place. He stepped inside and looked around, a faint grin on his lips. He wore tight black jeans and a black shirt. He liked wearing black, whether or not he was wearing hunting gear. His eyes scanned the crowd. Most of the eyes that met his glared back at him. He just chuckled to himself and wandered across the floor, the crowd parting for him as he passed. He stood out like a sore thumb.
And then as soon as the hopeful thought appeared it vanished. The brunette shook his head, softly gelled spikes moving gently due to the movement. He swirled a black-nailed fingertip lightly along the rim of his textured glass, staring into its alcoholic depths as if looking for a solution to his life's problems. No one would be able to understand him. It had happened so long ago, no one probably could. It wasn't as if it was written down in any records. It wasn't important enough to be. But he knew.
Phoenix knew. He knew the truth of his life. Of what a monster he was. And as cliche as it may sound, he was one. At least, in his eyes he was. What he had done when he was only eight... No one could come back from that alive, or even sane. That's why he had these parties. He surrounded himself in the laughter, the lust, the music, in order to drown out the depressing and sadistic side of himself so he didn't end up cutting more marks into his arms and legs. So he didn't end up putting himself through hell in order to make himself feel better for just an hour.
Damn, he was dark. And yet, so were his memories.
---
TJ loved Downworlder parties. He knew he should stay away, that most Downworlders hated his kind, but mundane parties were just no fun. Shadowhunters didn't throw the greatest parties, either. They were all uptight and proper, not a real bash like this place. He stepped inside and looked around, a faint grin on his lips. He wore tight black jeans and a black shirt. He liked wearing black, whether or not he was wearing hunting gear. His eyes scanned the crowd. Most of the eyes that met his glared back at him. He just chuckled to himself and wandered across the floor, the crowd parting for him as he passed. He stood out like a sore thumb.
