after the first glass [ o p e n ]

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The afternoon was drawing slowly into twilight, orange lazily fading into a blue spell meant to settle into the shadows of the land. It could have been a peaceful time, and yet the air crackled slightly. Nothing was safe here, really, and when one thought about it, it left them with very few choices when it came to actions and demeanor.

This was not something Absinthe necessarily cared much about, nor something she could change even if she had wanted to, which she did indeed not.

She laid in the shadow of a low growing plant, not that the shade was needed, simply to observe the river from a distance. Her body was emaciated, skinny to the point of just before ones hair begins to become flat and listless. Her eyes shone in some manner, impossible for even the most experienced soothsayer to decipher. She did not smile, but she did not frown. She was still.

The youngling drew in a breath of the air around her. There was the scent of a cat in the air, she could tell, but she could not tell who it was or where they might have been. Still, she spoke, her voice strangely soft and lilting.

"Hello, traveler."

as wished they were | as they are not | as they are
and that is the scariest of all

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flaws

I yawned as I crawled away from the shadowed halls of an old building.  Crumbling roof, molded walls, and ivy infested floors decked the whole place out in a lovely "old fashioned" style.  I grimaced at the way the slick linoleum ground felt grainy to the touch.  Pulled up squares of fungus growing carpet littered all around.  The damp scent of well, "someone marking their territory" made me cringe and wrinkle my nose.

I stepped outside, away from what looked to be an old hospital-- not that I knew what it even was-- and headed out into the grasses.  Stubby trees with winding, spindly branches dotted the field.  The rush of a distant river seeming to add into the serenity of it all.  The thought of this being serene made me want to laugh.  Life as it was now- no, as it would forever be, was like our own personal torture pit with tools of despair perfectly selected to fit our tastes.

I headed towards the sounds of the gurgling river just ahead.  The smell of damp rocks and moss had me grinning as I moved faster.  Sitting in a land of disinfectant and mold could only let you be so sane.  I grinned lightly as I caught a whiff of another creature.  My eyes widened with delight as I heard a voice.  "Hmm, traveler?  I'd like to call myself more of a hobbyist in doing so, but whatever tickles your fancy."

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Absinthe cocked her head as though the cat had seen her, although they obviously had not. Her lips curled up slightly in either an odd smirk or a show of distaste.

"What in life are we not hobbyists at, dear traveler?" she asked, moving through the bushes soundlessly, almost that her disembodied voice was the only thing moving. "Living, I believe, is a great hobby of mine. I'm not sure I excel at it, but then, no one does in the end."

Now a definite sound and sign of madness came up from her in the form of a very odd giggling cackle. She emerged from the bushes, now directly behind the cat. "I, dear traveler, am Absinthe, and I will take you wonderful places."

as wished they were | as they are not | as they are
and that is the scariest of all