Thunderstorms
Throughout the embrace of dark clouds that clung to the gray belt of sky overheard, a crackle of thunder sounded it’s reverberating dance into the distance whereupon it resounded into echoed boom. Rain patted down heavily, claiming everything within it’s grasp from turbulent ocean to cliff side and beyond. Heavy droplets collected upon and ran down the wide brim of hat worn by the figure whom stood at that precipice in her lonesome; welcoming the approaching storm rather than shying away from it. Lightning flashed as though it were the punctuation mark to her private thoughts - there were few things more powerful than the sea. A fickle mistress in her own right.
Power. It was a thought that came and went with the same consideration one might give the wax and wane of the moon. It meant everything and nothing to Odette. Even as the turquoise gems of her gaze turned outward to rest upon the horizon in habitual tendency, it was a thought she toyed with as so many times before. Lifting a handful of scarred digits upward, the highlander grasped at the head-wear that adorned her golden crown and removed it thus, placing the worn hat upon the nearby wooden post. The outpouring of heavens above was quick to lay claim upon blonde locks that cascaded freely, tugging sunny strands into gentle waltz on the wind.
Allowing her long russet lashes to draw shut, the shapely siren lifted her rounded chin and freckled cheeks toward the rain as though it were the warmth of a lover’s breath. Here, things were simple. Odette loathed tyranny, despised greed, and implored freedom. She had no need for power, nor had she ever sought it. There was no desire to be given it, at least not in a traditional sense of lording over another.
Yet there were certain ironies that were not lost on her - success, protection, defense - none of these were possible without it. The highlander had worked hard, strived to grow into the woman she’d become and taken control of her own destiny to reach it. It stirred the same thoughts it always had. What of those who had not the power to stand for themselves? Or those she desired to protect? What of the child who lay their head upon pillow at night, oblivious to the horrors that, if Odette had her way, would never be seen? Already she toyed with morality to stand by her beliefs, but how far was she willing to go?
The thunder growled above as though in response to her thoughts, uncaring and unrestrained in it’s onward roll, much like time itself. Power, strength, came in all shapes and sizes. Perhaps it was motivation and intent that dictated the difference between selfishness and selflessness. Or, perhaps, she was attempting to find some justification for the deeds done in goodly context.
Power. It was a thought that came and went with the same consideration one might give the wax and wane of the moon. It meant everything and nothing to Odette. Even as the turquoise gems of her gaze turned outward to rest upon the horizon in habitual tendency, it was a thought she toyed with as so many times before. Lifting a handful of scarred digits upward, the highlander grasped at the head-wear that adorned her golden crown and removed it thus, placing the worn hat upon the nearby wooden post. The outpouring of heavens above was quick to lay claim upon blonde locks that cascaded freely, tugging sunny strands into gentle waltz on the wind.
Allowing her long russet lashes to draw shut, the shapely siren lifted her rounded chin and freckled cheeks toward the rain as though it were the warmth of a lover’s breath. Here, things were simple. Odette loathed tyranny, despised greed, and implored freedom. She had no need for power, nor had she ever sought it. There was no desire to be given it, at least not in a traditional sense of lording over another.
Yet there were certain ironies that were not lost on her - success, protection, defense - none of these were possible without it. The highlander had worked hard, strived to grow into the woman she’d become and taken control of her own destiny to reach it. It stirred the same thoughts it always had. What of those who had not the power to stand for themselves? Or those she desired to protect? What of the child who lay their head upon pillow at night, oblivious to the horrors that, if Odette had her way, would never be seen? Already she toyed with morality to stand by her beliefs, but how far was she willing to go?
The thunder growled above as though in response to her thoughts, uncaring and unrestrained in it’s onward roll, much like time itself. Power, strength, came in all shapes and sizes. Perhaps it was motivation and intent that dictated the difference between selfishness and selflessness. Or, perhaps, she was attempting to find some justification for the deeds done in goodly context.
"When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw."
-|| Odette Saoirse | Femme Fatale | Balmung | Wikiâ†Leave rumors! | The Hands of Edelweiss ||-
-|| Odette Saoirse | Femme Fatale | Balmung | Wikiâ†Leave rumors! | The Hands of Edelweiss ||-