Personal Message
Park Hyemin
Sapioual
31 December, 1906
Vampire
Botanist
❝. numb. and stupid. desecrated innocence.
used bodies lingering in scintillating neon lights.
disheveled sheets. empty, ever-changing embraces.
hollow orbs of obsidian. flawed alabaster, marred skin and amethyst kisses.
ruthless teeth tearing at her flesh and sinking in. deeper and deeper.❞
she is a dreamer, a soul-searcher and a wanderer.
drifting along with the breeze, deep in thought, her heart desperately craving solace
and her eyes telling tales of starless nights and long forgotten hope.
Background;
"This is why dreams can be such dangerous things: they smolder on like a fire does, and sometimes they consume us completely. It all begins with a simple idea; dully throbbing in the back of your mind until the virus seeps through your veins. Resilient. Highly contagious. And even the smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you."
The cultivation of a flower, albeit artificial, is a tedious and painful procedure. Even the most promising sprout requires a prelude composed of multitudinous essentials: myriads of faithfully honoured traditions demand to be executed with reverence and meticulous precision before she can be presented to the public, breathtaking and in full bloom.
Only gradually [...] Encased by miscellaneous layers of exquisite silk refined with lavish broderie, only the faintest traces of alabaster flesh were revealed to entice and mesmerize her prestigious customers. Her tresses, cascades of sable satin, draped across the crown of her head and adorned by sublime ornaments which accentuated her beauty in the most sophisticated modesty. A chrysanthemum withered in comparison to her intricate delicacy...
[To Be Continued].
Personality;
She has such a pretty mouth for such a bitter girl; a lucent roseate that contradicts the labyrinth of noxious thorns that is her mind. Her heart died a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
[To Be Continued]
Plots;
001. Birth of a Lotus.
Even though the lotus is brought to life beneath the depths of the filth and decay, hidden in the muddy sediment until she ascends from the stygian water like a marvelous phoenix from its ashes, neither her graceful beauty nor her unceasing growth are affected by her origins - juvenile petals untainted by the greedily devouring dirt.
I was your lotus, your masterpiece. A creation awakened from the fatal kiss of a breathtakingly beautiful death, reborn in fast flowing streams of pulsating scarlet and lured by a frozen touch into the realms of nocturnal ecstasy and exuberant decadence.
[To Be Continued]
Vampire/Male/Ambivalent Relationship; Tragedy; Suspense; Angst; Betrayal
002. Thirst
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la
mort
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The Devil is real. And he's not a crimson creature with horns and a tail. He can be breathtakingly beautiful. once a fallen angel, he used to be God's favorite.
The living cling to life above all,
but the trophy misprized is to die in peace.
