Thread: Closed

RE Murder you, if I may This is a suggestion of what we might be doing, a post sample of sorts. I am writing from all perspectives here, and would not be encroaching on your writing once we got started. You'd be very much to involved in the prepping and outlining of the thread. Glasses on the forest floor, by her shoulder, that in turn was by the dividing line between asphalt and dirt road. Freckles were faded somethings against the more so skin, to stress the grains of black, heavy grounds holding on to her. Vivid like a piece of moon, by favor of the headlight of his silver car. He couldn't see Vienna as dry, not when she was wearing his intent, but she must be. By the science that did his bidding, she had to be completely barren. Did the artist fall in love with the tubes of paint, did he attribute azure Heaven's virtues and believe magenta tasted sweet? He was not an idiot, on top of it all. So the wind quickly climbed over her purple nipples, stiff from forgotten caress, and swirled in her exposed armpit before it left unwillingly, and he decidedly thought nothing of it but moving air. He was exposed, so close to the town that was so close to the city, but he'd counted all the returning wives and husbands, all the trucks and hybrids. There would be no one here to disturb his work. If he was the monster they'd name him in the morning, he would have turned down the atrocious light from his Mercedes and done this in the dark and lunar glow. There were no monsters like that. After a bridge with the intent of being long, her nose was rounded off. Lips at the beginning of a moan. Hair orange to her collarbones, not red. She'd taken care to be thin, which had made the breasts of the twenty-five year old woman a major source of calories for her own neglected metabolism. There was still some left, enough to turn an eye. Hipbones like tips of a crown making a shadow like a belt, proudly lifting her skin where she lay. The lack of hair over the slit he knew to harbor rosette skin again spoke of vanity, despite her innate beauty. He bent down to open her. Marla Vaughn had thought it was a step down to be investigating so far out of her precinct. The only good thing with the four o'clock call to come out to this limbo location between somewhere and nowhere was that she could hope to talk about it with Dr Lorelle, the assigned psychiatrist for her division. During the briefing, though, it got clear this would not be a case of hick-on-hick crime. Her redbull cans gave their usual jingle in the backseat as she stopped in front of the roadblock at the beginning of the turn of the main road. She still had the sweet taste on her palled as she left the door open and tossed the keys to a forensic intern. Dark hair minus one shower lay heavily on the shoulders of her replaced-by-next-salary shearling jacket as she and her sensible boots trudged by men in neon vests. She was proud of her brunette fall of strands, and needed the little confidence when the urgency hadn't afforded her time for eyeshadow. The trees, tall and old, and the cold musk of savage morning gave her comfort that she wouldn't have to worry as much about appearances now, not with a team she knew and reporters yet to catch scent. Leigh came with his usual well groomed beard and a paper cup. Marla declined with her palm and passed him, curious to see the display she'd heard about. It's not coffee. It's that power-shit the teens drink. he said. How did he not have bags under his eyes? Lodging the cup firmly between her fingers, he led her, as if this all wasn't a straight shoot to the scene already. They had propped up lights. The torches mounted on tripods blared at the human, her skin soaking in the illustrious, artificial onslaught until it pulsed with radiance. She was held up under her arms by the tree behind her, as if the arbal structure had birthed her and now wanted to show the world her beautiful torso and face. Marla held blue eyes sternly on the image. Poor Vienna Cabo really did look alive, lids light and arms crossing her stomach. In the bathroom mirror, when she herself was stark naked and unashamed, could Marla say she looked this vibrant? You smell different today, Vaughn. New shampoo? Leigh asked over his shoulder as he took out his phone, an upgrade to the notepads he used to use a year a go. Marla frowned at his question rather than the suspended body three strides from her. It was a perfume sample from the mall yesterday. She hadn't had time to do anything before she came here. Her look would tell him that kind of small talk could wait. The eruption of voices and the anxiety spreading like coffee on new jeans in the forensic crowd had her whip her head back at the supposed corpse. Vienna slowly slid her hands apart, uncrossing herself for the arrived detective, her legs taking a step in the air as her arms came further out and her eyes opened. An officer drew his gun at the awakening girl. Leigh had to say a warning. Marla didn't have the wit to do anything but take in the returned girl that held her embrace wide. How heart-wrenchingly ethereal that series of motions had been. She couldn't imagine something more welcoming. It wasn't over. The Vaughn woman took a step back and gasped when Vienna started to quiver, her dead, green eyes quaking at the brunette when gashes appeared on either side of her abdomen. The blue lips parted. Everyone met the panic in their own way when Vienna leaked white liquid to drip from her chin - from her eyes and mouth - and the wounds on her belly. A sound that must have been the remains of her dying aria gurgled free from what they would find to be sperm flooded lips. F-finish your coffee. We have to deal with this quick. Leigh said, shaking his head, his phone dangling by his side. Further ahead in the investigation, with the help from many questionable, anonymous tips, she would be given to know that the perfume sample had caused a series of chemical reactions in the wires planted inside Vienna's body. Her foe wouldn't just be evil, he would be transcendent. It's not coffee. It's she had replied to Leigh, contrary by nature as she gulped down the sickly sweetness he had provided her with and rumpled the cup. monster.