Blackest Night |Xenith|

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

use or abuse me, just do something with me

The young girl stood in the center of her room, paint spilled and canvas's torn, brushes snapped in her frustration. She had managed to hit the side of her head on one of the edges of the canvas as she was tearing things down, a trickle of blood from a cut and a bruise forming against her eye. She quickly snatched her door open, not bothering to grab her jacket or her shoes. She ran barefoot to the main building, slipping in and rushing up to the art rooms. She needed to work this out and she didn;t want to be in her room. Sure she still had supplies in her room but those would take time to actually pull out to use. She opened the door to the room and rushed swiftly, her feet giving small tops on the ground.

She pulled out a canvas and a selection of paints and brushes and she set about her work. She was painting, not breathing much and not focusing on her surroundings. Before her brush the canvas layed out a scene. A celestial dragon, the universe in his hands and swirling around him, he looked around, even prouder was the woman behind him, standing on seemingly nothing, in her hand a leash. The leash was attached to the dragons throat, keeping him leashed to the seemingly human girl. She felt her hand twitch and she stepped back from the mostly finished painting.

She took a deep breath, her breathing slightly labored. It was a sight to see, a breathless girl splashed in paint staring at a simple canvas. She wore a pair of black jeans that hugged at her hips and a shredded tanktop that showed her scarred arms and sides, this was something she usually wouldnt have left the house in, but she was in a rush, she NEEDED to paint more, to create, to quiet the storm inside her mind. So she rushed to the closet once more, coming away with a canvas and charcoal this time, the girl simply looked as if she was in some need of someone to calm her neurotic ass down.

358 wORDS ✖ Xenith Melanthios ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) aye cutie

CODED BY REM OF WW

[Xenith Melanthios]

THERE'S A PLACE IN THE DARK HORROR STORIES GO TO HIDE

Long quiet hours had passed since the halls emptied and the florescent lights overhead had calmed and blackened. A tall, though slim man eyed the still low hanging moon as he finished his most recent cup of coffee in the now empty teacher's lounge, all exhaustion from his longer than usual day gone as suddenly as the lights had died. Some small part of him wondered how long he had been sitting there; hadn't he just been talking with one of his colleagues about a few particularly troublesome students? He couldn't quite remember, and he pulled the sleeve of his dark blue over shirt down to wipe a stain from his jeans before giving it much thought. Whatever ideas he had formed in the following seconds were quickly washed away when an all too familiar tingling, almost like someone running a hand along his skin, ran through the back of his mind and alerted him to the presence of someone else. Four rooms down the hall. In his studio.

With a small sigh and questioning thought as to who could need him at such a late hour he stood, leaving his empty coffee cup in the sink and his sunglasses on the counter. As he walked he found a slight comfort in the fact that whomever wished to find him knew enough to keep the lights off. His surprise at the room before him was somewhat stunted from the state the room was in.

He eyed the strange young girl silently before returning his gaze to her painting. Grim, yet expectant. He whistled lowly at the work before moving inside the room. He found himself focusing on the uses of color, the worlds she had depicted just within the hands of the beast, not to mention how she had painted herself as holding the great thing's chain. Had he not known better he would have reached out, congratulated her or even offered to buy the piece.

Instead, given how he had never seen this strange woman before he simply said "I need more talent like yours. Why are you not in my class? You obviously enjoy painting so why have I never met you?" His voice was booming in the previously silent room, making him lower his head slightly before he could say anything else. The way he spoke gave him a friendly feel, though his voice itself was scratchy and under used. He finally looked at the girl long enough to catch her scars and clothes before returning his gaze to the painting, confident the poor light would mask his piqued curiosity.

Words X @username will tag X Notes here

♥

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

use or abuse me, just do something with me

The wide eyed gaze of the girl snapped up the moment she heard a voice, her hands trembling much like her legs. She dropped the supplies from the start it gave her and she swallowed the lump in her throat down. She hadn't expected someone to be here, or even come here at all. With trembling fingers she dropped to one knee and snatched to gather the supplies that she had tossed, she quickly knocked the previous panting off of the easel and placed down the new and fresh canvas, her fingers tracing the piece of charcoal she had grabbed in her haste.

She took a moment to turn his words over in her head before she let out a sound almost like a scoff, if it were more bold it probably could have been seen as one. "...Talent this is all fucking trash.... theres no emotion... no feeling.. its .. it's all dead..." She spat the words out, her voice coming off small and hoarse. She finally took the time to look up at the person, setting the stick of charcoal down and turning her form more towards him. The darkness was something she could deal with, it wasn't utterly pitch black thanks to the moon outside, she could see shapes still pretty well.

And oh boy did his shape quite literally make her jaw drop. He looked like some blackened being stalking the shadows and living with them. He was gorgeous that was sure, and that sparked her desire for him, well more specifically to draw him. "...I...I need to draw you.. I'll do anything.. Just.. Please.. You're perfect.." Her eyes went wide as she snatched the coal and set out on the canvas without another thought to it. Her fingers finally steadying, no shake or waver within them.

She was pleased she had picked charcoal, it could capture the blackness that surrounded the man, this time over a celestial theme, she had taken on a Desert one. The mans form on her canvas placed in the clothing of a desert wanderer, rags and armor adorning his body and blades lifted in a flurry around him, the desert was black as night and she drew the shadows twisting around the man, at his feet lay an oasis, a life giving body before him. As she slowed her strokes, the edge coming off of her little episode she looked up to him.

"I'm...Shaan.. I'm...not in any of the art classes here... Or clubs.... I'm not talented... I just... do art.. to forget.." She let her eyes drop back to the canvas, the urge to jump right into another medium, maybe a sculpture of him? Maybe some sort of scorch art... or.. maybe she could think of something even more unique/ She looked down at her arm and the canvas... just maybe.

475 wORDS ✖ Xenith Melanthios ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

CODED BY REM OF WW

[Xenith Melanthios]

THERE'S A PLACE IN THE DARK HORROR STORIES GO TO HIDE

In his years, Xen had seen plenty of people doubt their talent or equate it as a form of meaningless release. Hell, he did it to himself sometimes. Seeing this girl's adamant rejection of her work, however, still shocked him, for her next action was to immediately  counter herself. The initial shock passed in time to see her add the shadows to her painting, to see his power reflected by someone who had no idea who or what he was. "I've never seen dead art, but of this is it then I have to say; I'm impressed." After just a few short moments his shame caught up with him, stealing away his voice. The instinctual urge to pull his dark arms in close fought with him for a few moments before he turned from the girl.

In the end he reasoned his own need to have this girl in his class. "Dead art" or not she had a talent he hadn't seen in a while. Even without her obvious talent he noticed something else odd about her. "I'm Melanthios, The art teacher at Bellefonte, obviously. Regarding your work I'd like to see you in my class. At any time during hours. I think you'd excel under the right circumstances, even more than you already do." He paused for just a moment, looking the girl over, as if digesting her last few words. "I know good, I know talent. I want you in my class. If you paint like this" He gestured to both canvases "I'd love to see how you draw or sculpt."

283 Words X Shaan C. Vladislav X ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) you're cute

♥

[Shaan C. Vladislav]

use or abuse me, just do something with me

Her hollow eyes gazed at the man as he spoke, she assumed it would be the only way to keep him to stay, to get him to agree to this. "Fine.. Tomorrow.. I'll be there.. Just let me.. " Her voice trailed off as she moved closet to the man, within a few inches of him and leaning up on the tips of her toes to look closer at his face, biting her lower lip and letting her gaze trail him up and down, it was a loving and gentle gaze, of course it would be, right now he was her muse.

She studied every detail of his face and backed up a few steps, she reached into her pocket and took out the razor she kept in a small box. The girl with a swift motion jerk it down from elbow to wrist, the crimson flowing out from her arm. Her eyes looked at the man as she moved slowly, walking to grab another canvas. "...Do you like dancing... do you dance..?" She asked as she set the canvas up and slowly, with a small breath, focused her power, the blood slowly twisting and bending from her arm towards the canvas.

It was a slow motion, her eyes wide and distant as the blood slowly picked up speed, before long it was thrashing tendrils, painting out a display below her. It was of the man, most obviously so, however it was being painted as him dancing with a woman, her arms covered in scars and bruises, the mans cheek streaked with the same tone as her lipstick. The two were embraced, dancing in a close montage. Their dance floor? The stars themselves painted in hues of red. So often the blood would only graze lightly, or it would soak the canvas, making lights and shadows within the painting.

Her exhausted eyes looked up at the man, her blank gaze focused on him. "...You can see anything.. if i can use you as a muse."

337 wORDS ✖ Xenith Melanthios ✖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ..look in a mirror you meeko

CODED BY REM OF WW