Log in

"Aren't boys supposed to have superior hand-eye co-ordination?" She asks, raising her eyebrows at him in disappointment. She digs her toes into the edge of the hand-me down leather couch in Ellen's New York Apartment. You see, there's this guy and truth be told, he's not anything like any of the guys she's been with. He's not rough and mean, or floaty and ethereal - he's...just a guy. Except, he's the furthest thing from 'just a guy' that she's ever known; for the past couple of weeks she's had trouble taking her eyes off him. Kaye Fierch has got it bad. If only she knew what 'it' was.

Her moment of insult costs her dearly and her onscreen character joins the ranks of the dead, following after Ichigo's. She tosses the controller aside in disgust, sighing loudly.

"This isn't exactly showing you New York."

Aug. 19th, 2009

Sleep, perchance to dream
To dream of what?
Many things, kings and queens. {Another realm.}
What find you there?
Many things foul and fair.

It's said that dreams are a reflection {only a mirror} of the soul {as twisted as you}. Dreams are another world. Another place to get lost. Another place to be found. Another place to Open Your Eyes or lose your sight forever. Sometimes when Kaye falls asleep that is what she sees. Like tangled prophecies {Discord follows, said the Thistlewitch}, like pretty baubles on a christmas tree.

I dream in COLOR now.

Things become clearer one by one as the landscape unfolds before her sleeping eyes. First there is only red, not unlike the roses of her last surreal dream, not unlike the color of her hands as she looks down at them. The landscape deepens. Tall savannah like trees stretch out beside her and Kaye takes a shaky step forward, not sure what land her booted feet would reveal. A flash of silver, long legs, lithe figure; tilted, horizontal. He is lying in a field of crimson; she runs towards him like the wind is chasing her. She can feel it whip at her back like the lash of a displeased master.

He is lying in a field of strawberries and she kneels to look at him. Pewter strands of silken hair tangle with the plant until she can't be sure if the strawberries are chained or not, everything blurs into one. There is hair all over his face, she's terrified. If she moves it, will he even be alive? He's dead to her now anyway. Kaye reaches out and is surprised to see her fingers tremble; it's only a dream, right? She smoothes the tresses from his face, revealing the features one by one. Lashes as silver as a pin, crescented on pale sunken cheeks. He has perfect lips and part of her still wants to kiss them; to feel breathless and wild as the summer sun on a stream.


He opens his eyes and they are ebony black. She can see herself reflected in the deep pool of them and suddenly she thinks of how he left her. His movement is the slow clockwork of a robot as he ghosts his fingers against her neck, when they turn hard, squeezing, she staggers backwards to her feet. He explodes in a whirl of feathers.


Funny, how even here she can feel completely confused.

She is wearing a silken dress. Her Tithe dress. {You are not the sacrifice, Little Pixie}

"K-kkkkkkkkaye." A voice echoes, repeating in a flurry of whispers. It's soft as death, too quiet to identify. She spins, caught between fear and disbelief. The lake swallows up the ground behind her and she catches a flash of red hair at the corner. No, not red. Not Janet. Orange. Strawberry blonde.

Lillies on a coffin. Broken dreams. There are worse things than dying.

For a second she can't breathe and then she is diving, water forcing itself up her nose and into her lungs. She dives just in time to see the Kelpie drag Ichigo under, mouth eternally open in a horrified scream.
Kaye's leaning against the bar, bouncing a crisp green apple against her palm. Apple goes up, apple goes down. She likes how the color of the bar lights reflect off it's surface. There's nothing to make you smile like a successful heist.

It's almost like she's back to her old self.


The cold bitterness of winter tends to drive people inside. They don't like it too much. It's harsh and uncomfortable when the burning heat of indoors brings feeling back to your extremities. So not many people are outside, in the midst of winter, despite it's frigid beauty.

Except...there's a girl. She's been there quite a long time, maybe all day, there's no way to tell. Long enough that she's stopped shivering and her fingers have taken on a faint purpling color. Long enough that she knows she's going to have a literal pain in her ass tomorrow. Kaye's been thinking. There's no place for thinking like the frozen wasteland at the back of the lake. Nothing is getting any clearer.
You know what's difficult, climbing a tree without Pixie grace. Kaye doesn't even notice the water droplets (fallen from leaves) that spatter down the back of her neck, she has to concentrate. Kick an old boot into a knot on the bark and pull with dirty hands, pull upwards, just don't let go.

It's her second attempt.


It's starting to get cold. That's the first thing Kaye notices. The way her breathe ices when it hits the air, leaving a frigid cloud. So cold that she already can't feel her fingers and it suddenly seems a bad idea to be out without a coat and sitting on the damp grass, soaking through her jeans.

But it's quieter out here and things that are missing are not so obvious. She misses the sounds, the smells, the confidence. She misses being a pixie. Most of all she misses everything being okay.


She was wearing one of Ellen's skirts, a slender black number that reached halfway down her calves. There was a cigarette burn right near the bottom, but Kaye doubted anyone would notice, or care. She felt like a grown up, in the stuffy clothing, staring at the door to the funeral parlor. In a moment she would have to go in and join them. She didn't want to feel like a grown up, she wanted to cry and refuse to go, to admit she wasn't brave at all.

Instead she just stands and stares. In a minute she will have to go in.

A lone leaf flutters to the ground across the street - a single tree standing in the concrete jungle. Kaye watches it fall, turning and twisting in it's brilliant redness. Her nails clench inwards leaving matching red marks. She'll have to go in.


A girl in false skins could sit at the Bar all day and no-one would know the difference. She could sit and brood in her silent hate; imagining a scene of pale fingers tangled in red curls, silver hair trailing around a beautiful face as they kissed. She could just sit. Sit and let the self-pity overtake her.

Just for now.


Obsession. Need. Compulsion. Hopelessness. Conflicting emotions burst within her like a supernova.

She had fallen asleep, Kaye knew, but to her it felt like entering another world. A world where everything twisted and melted and colors made no sense...but she could forget. That was enough.


It was yellow.

The chunky brick felt odd beneath her unshod feet. Burrs had collected on her stockings. Stinging, sharp, spiteful little things.

(How had they got there?)

She bent down to pick them off.

"Was it you, girl?".

Upturned eyes swivelled and she half expected to see pink-tinged rain.

"Oh..." A frog.

Green and fat it clashed hideously with the path. Kaye reached out for it, swimming black and white nonsense obscuring her eyes. Somehow, dream logic she supposed, she was holding it. Could feel the slick wetness of it, but not her hands. They were fuzzy and thick; fake things attached to her arms. Seemings...

"It is rare we leave one of our own behind, but when we do, the child's fey nature becomes harder and harder to conceal as it grows. In the end, they all return to faery."

like her.

"Don't tell me you fell for it?" It gave a self-righteous ribbit and hopped off.

"What?" Her soft voice. Soft as ash; all things insubstantial, followed it. A shaky step. Just one foot in front of the other.

Red. Up ahead. She could barely see in front of herself to make it out. Curls, she thought. Lethe, or Janet; Love and hate mingled now.

No. It wasn't that kind of dream.

Roses everywhere.

Roses everywhere

Nothing made sense. Yet when they appeared it seemed right. Kaye stamped on them, frantic to destroy every last one and their heady scent. Thorns cut into her feet, tearing her stockings. She didn't notice, or care; falling to her knees in a field of flowers.

Another trick? Fae magic that concealed truths, blinded her...

just like ♥ love ♥

"Where for art thou Romeo,
across the river wide,
Keep it in your pants dear,
or thou hast better hide."

Kaye sung out jauntily, challenging the dream; screaming the vocals.

Wind swept around her, and she screeched into it; nonsensical words. Kaye screwed her false eyes shut and when she opened them there was only blinding light.

The flowers gone, the source of illumination was merely a man. Silver-bright hair reflected the sun, glinting in her eyes. But he wore a mask and when she Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting towards him he whipped a sword at her.

En Guarde...

Slash, Parry, Riposte. Words echoed around her, felt not heard. Words she couldn't fathom the meaning of. She found a branch, picked it up and answered his challenge.

"None shall go here." Kaye said. Especially not you. The sentence was shaky. This wasn't a fairytale; it was a nightmare.

She was faster than she remembered, swinging his cuts aside with an easy grace. When a smirk lit up his eyes; she knew it was all pretend and his rapier sliced through her slender stick; came to rest on the hollow of her throat.

"Yield." Her opponent hissed.

Her throat dry, easy to cut, Kaye barely shook her head. When her fingers caught at his mask, however, they met no resistance.

It was then she realized the worst thing about dreams. Had his hair ever been silver? Because now it was ebony black.

The knight pressed forward and caught up her wrists, inhumanely strong, both sword and mask clattered to the ground. Sobbing; no escape... God, no. not this. And then he pressed his mouth to hers and she felt the iron band on his forehead begin to burn.


He was going to kill her as she'd killed him. Because he was suffocating her and she was dimly aware she couldn't concentrate. Charred flesh; the odour hit her nostrils and she gagged, giving up more precious air.

Can't breathe. Can't breathe.Can'tbreathecan'tbreathe.

The path

to reality, open your eyes

Kaye opened her eyes.

and see

canon information

Kaye enters Milliways a few days after the events at the end of 'Tithe.' SPOILER WARNINGCollapse )

Latest Month

October 2010


RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow