Thread: Temple of the Gods

Iris parted her sweet lips, her blue shades still hidden behind the lids that concealed them, as she inhaled deeply. The scent of the surrounding candles that burned, a light welcoming all creatures into this serene place of worship, creeping into her nostrils. Sensually, they began to move. Perhaps it was her genetic makeup but the perfections of her body, her facial expressions, and her mannerisms all appeared to be more elegant and luring in nature then what she, at times, intended. The way she walked and how her hips echoed the seductive movements as she glided across the room. The way she found her lips moving as she spoke, pronouncing each syllable correctly. Or the way her lashes seem to close during a mere blink to express the beauty in the moment. Yes, they were all actions, movements, that were taken for granted but her, her form and make up, made them all the more delicious. Like a fine wine or a piece of forbidden and dark chocolate. Priced to high and unobtainable. BENEDICTA sit sancta Creatrix et Gubernatrix omnium, sancta et individua Trinitas, nunc, semper, et per infinita saecula saeculorum. A language that was thought to be long forgotten, dead, she spoke the beginning of the prayer in Latin. A language that many of the living were not use to hearing, let along expecting. Iris glanced up at the statue, her eyes parting slowly as she rested along her blue along the sorrowful, and yet powerful, statue above. Again, she lowered her head and continued. TE DEUM Patrem ingenitum, te Filium unigenitum, te Spiritum Sanctum Paraclitum, sanctam et individuam Trinitatem Her words were interrupted by a voice that she did not recognize but she did recognize the tone within it. Slowly, while still facing the statue, she stood up. The concealing white cloak soon fell off her head, revealing the long pallid tendrils. Perfect waves that lingered down the middle of her back. Iris inhaled deeply then placed one foot out to her right before turning to face the man. Being banned from Heaven, and not realizing the appearance of such, or those, like herself, she assumed it was a tracker. Someone who brought run a away slaves back to their damned future. A life full of servitude instead of freedom. His words, the cruelty behind them, must have meant that he knew about her genetic makeup. A hybrid. It was one of many facts about her that could be recalled from reading her file. Iris exhaled slowly, the rise and fall of her chest echoed in the beauty of her porcelain face as she stared at the man in silence for a moment longer. Of course she was curious as to what the second part meant. This opportunity that he spoke of. Even then, while she traced over his form and his perfect features, similar to her own, odd, she held every detail. She even held his own interest as she remained quiet a bit longer before parting her lips and speaking in the tongue in which is spoke English. Then, pray tell, explain this opportunity that you speak of. Her voice rang out in a different tone then that of the Latin. This one, this often use, perhaps overly used language, was pronounced in a tone that echoed the idea of an angelic choir. Elegant. Soft. Even alluring.