prismakaos | (no subject)

This entry consists of hastily-written bad love poetry, as written by Vanya Firesinger to Iveran Nightwing. For more context, this is from the WoW campaign that Sarah was running (f-locked http://kalliplokime.livejournal.com/250894.html) wherein my character (night elf tinker named Vanya Firesinger, abused as a child, given over to the Cult of the Damned, and generally crazy) fell in (lust|love|obsession) with Iveran Nightwing (a druid working for a different evil cult, who had a propensity for turning into a raven and being generally snarky, but couldn't hold his alcohol). After failing to complete her ultimate goal, she went back to work as a tinker for the Cult, and sent him bad and somewhat creepy love poetry. See below:

--------------

Gears and Oil

Here we sit
I stare at you
Face ink-splattered

There you sit
Ignoring me
Haughty and cold

What if...
...I molded you?
...made you mechanical?

What if...
...you molded me?
...turned me wild?

Would we not fit together
Like oil and gears,
Like wolves of a pack?

--------------

Ink-stained

Once I drew a grey machine,
Now I draw a black raven;
Once full of sour gasoline,
Now seeking just a haven.

My fingers encased in ink,
Your voice came as I drew,
(And made it harder to think)
"No one would marry you."

Scars don't heal, words hurt more;
Sir Nightwing destroys ev'ry prayer.
Want to tie you to the floor,
Rip your heart out, call it fair.

Yet, I want your feath'ry caress,
Bear hug, wolf tongue, night elf dance.
(My heart isn't mine now, I confess.)
Please, just give me one more chance.

---------------

A Truth.

Blood, pain, sweat, tears
Ink, oil, paper, gears
Feathers and magic
Iron and tech
No difference will exist
When we two make one

---------------

Uh-huh. Don't let Vanya come after you. Trust me.