La Danse Macabre
POSTED ON Jan 20, 2019 8:20:27 GMT
Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2019 8:20:27 GMT
The sheer unrivaled beauty that was life and death... Grows stale over time. Let us not lie to ourselves here. From the miracle of childbirth, to the great unknown which lies beyond, and every dull little tale in between. It wears the mind quite thin, wouldn't you agree? Do you take the time every hour, of every day, of every year, to just acknowledge just how awe-inspiring it is that this or that human is here or there or anywhere, inspite of all existential odds? Death and degeneracy around every corner, every iota of the universe attempting to expulge us all from the land, and yet... Here we are. No? No, it really isn't something you our myself would put constant unending thought to, despite how positively miraculous it truly is... Do you know why? Because it's grown stale. Millions of living creatures amble about for roughly a millennia each, and yet... Eh? Been there, done that. You see life and death all day, every day. Everyone slowly living and contrariwise slowly dying. Life and death are so boring, so dull, so basic... "So? Why not dance with it?" The dance of death... La Danse Macabre... Beautiful... Treacherous... Tip toeing along the thin lines of live, almost creaking over that line and plummeting into the despair of death and.... What next? That's what's so exhilarating about it. The Unknown. The very distinct possibility of death, yet just barely... You live. You've won! You live! You're alive! Oh, what fun! The rush of adrenaline, uncaring as to what comes next. An existential nihilism like no other, and what a joy it is. To actually enjoy life before the sweet relief of death. Living in harmony with both, a sway to the left, and sway to the right, you spin the sultry maiden of death around, daintily dropping her to the floor, but catching her amidst the waist just before her delicate skin touched marble... There was an art in what Salazar did. A harmonious melody, beautiful yet brash. He boldly embraced what few else would. His philosophy, his passion, his love... The dance of death. He did so enjoy teetering between the two. Tonight would be no different, though he's expected a relatively mundane task. Digging up the rotting corpse of one, Beatrice LaBirch did not seem as though it would be a particularly stimulating task. Yet he knew, after a bit of research, he wanted, nay needed the LaBirch family ring. Another stunning piece to his simply sublime collection! And so, there he was. Guised in his usual shimmering velvet tunic, he hummed quite the delightful little melody as his rusty little shovel dragged across the dirt. Shoes mudded up as they stepped through sludge and mud and slithered through withering grass. The grim grinning mask of his tilted to the left upon view of a shabby little headstone etched with old Bea's name. With a jolly camp, he delightfully hummed aloud as his shovel struck dirt. Lightening and thunder clashed and barked amongst the grimy grey clouds, as if the gods themselves were not pleading, but demanding that the Skub boy cease and desist the most heinous of crimes. Not a drop of rain pelted him that night, yet a moist and foreboding fog rolled across the land that night. Wind howled, lightening twitched, and thunder barked, it was as if every natural force imaginable was scolding the Crimson Masque for this vile deed. Yet, he jovially trudged on, planting shovel into dirt and subsequently plopping said dirt to the side. This continued on for little more than ten agonizing minutes of menial labor until at long last a *THUD* The pale grinning mask on his face perfectly encapsulated the glee he had at that very moment. The tips of his white gloves slithered under cracks of her wooden sarcophagus, tearing it off with a creak.
The creature which greeted the Masque from within that coffin was... Long past expiration. Thunder and lightening ROARED through the skies. Wind thrashed against the trees as if a million church choirs shrieked out in agony all at once. The agonizing cries of nature went unheard, and Salazar, lovingly cradled it's mangled head. Coddling it like a mother would a newborn child. The blank and soulless eyes of his mask met her lifeless gaze. One eye an empty shriveled up socket, surrounded by tender fleshy splotches of dead wrinkled skin. The other had an eye, blank and soulless, with a cloudy, milky like haze swirling around in it. His fingers delicately clenched into thin splotches grey shriveled up strands of hair, and delicately handling the tender, gibbous, mulching grey flesh underneath. The undying grin of his mask stared into (though kept at a very safe distance away from) the dead, tender jawline of hers. Lips having already withered away, all that remained were yellowed and rotting teeth, mounted upon mangled and torn gums. "Ma-ha-ha-haaaaa! Ooooooh, my dear... You've aged so horribly! Horribly! Horribly! I fear!" The stench was a horrendous alchemical concoction, an aroma so foul, I dare not elaborate upon any further. Yet, the gentleman that he is, he endured the smell for the sake of pleasantries with this Hylian, long since passed. "Hideous! Hideous! Hideous! Tch, tch, tch, oh my dear, dear, dear... Poverty has stricken you of life, looks, and love! Ma-ha-ha-haaa!" With surgical precision, he gently wrapped his glover around her small wrinkled hand, and pulled her up. She slouched back immediately, and he gently placed her frail corpse against the headstone. "Mayhaps? My dear? Mayhaps the last of the Lee Skubs could replicate that lost sensation of youthful vitality?"
Her lifeless body nestled itself within the cozy bed of grass and slouched lazily against her own headstone. A blank and inanimate expression as her mouth fell agape. Salazar tilted his head lightly, and delicately extended his right hand for her. Innocently, the cad swept her up with a twirl. She fell back like a rag doll, her feet hovering above dirt as she twirled aside. A white glove had delicately nestled itself within the side of her pelvis, pressed cozily against her tattered dress. Another glove delicately wrapped itself around her small and frail hand. With a profound and inexplicable euphoria, he whisked her off her feet, sweeping her across the dirt, small particles of dust daintily dancing beneath her. Left to right, right to left, they circled about swaying daintily under the pale moonlight. Tiptoeing here, tiptoeing there, they stepped and twirled, stepped and twirled, circling her now battered grave site thrice. Tiptoeing here, tiptoeing there, they stepped and danced, and pranced. A swift breeze whirled reality away, and at that very moment the delusional mind of Salazar Lee Skub whisked the pair away to fantasy land of his own mind. It was absolutely magical. Tufts of grass withered and wilted away within a matter of mere moments, his shoes tapping against and echoing across empty fields of marble flooring. Hundreds of other feet tapped and twirled in unison with his. A ball room dance of one hundred skeleton men, tapping their boney feet against the ground and rattling harmoniously in their dance. Neighboring tree bark twisted and contorted into magnificent, chiseled columns as Salazar and the bone men tiptoed by; and the blackened sky flushed into a pale golden white, a shimmering ceiling that was above even the expenditures of the King of Hyrule himself. An endless ballroom, the likes of which only the diluted mind of Salazar himself could've conjured up. His fantastical would soon fade off, and the grim reality that their dance simply went circles around her headstone settled back in. It was as if all light had suddenly been expunged, leaving the world in a sudden crippling darkness. Quietly, he looked to her frail hand, admiring the shimmering jewel resting on her middle finger. "My... My dear..." He announced as though he were shocked by the revelation of this beloved trinket "What an arousing ring you've got here... Surely this would be ample compensation for our dance of death?" Holding her hand up, the rogue put his mask up, just above his pale lips, and lightly smooched her knuckles "Splendid! Splendid! I'll take it post haste! Though... If I'm being quite candid... I did not entirely unenjoy our lovely encounter this evening..." He grinned scandalously as he once more guised his face, lightly tugging at the ring, sliding it from her finger on to his. "Oh! Madam, you flatter! Perhaps one more dance, then I shall scatter!" With childish delight, he whisked the corpse of it's feet once more. "Shall we, madame?"
The creature which greeted the Masque from within that coffin was... Long past expiration. Thunder and lightening ROARED through the skies. Wind thrashed against the trees as if a million church choirs shrieked out in agony all at once. The agonizing cries of nature went unheard, and Salazar, lovingly cradled it's mangled head. Coddling it like a mother would a newborn child. The blank and soulless eyes of his mask met her lifeless gaze. One eye an empty shriveled up socket, surrounded by tender fleshy splotches of dead wrinkled skin. The other had an eye, blank and soulless, with a cloudy, milky like haze swirling around in it. His fingers delicately clenched into thin splotches grey shriveled up strands of hair, and delicately handling the tender, gibbous, mulching grey flesh underneath. The undying grin of his mask stared into (though kept at a very safe distance away from) the dead, tender jawline of hers. Lips having already withered away, all that remained were yellowed and rotting teeth, mounted upon mangled and torn gums. "Ma-ha-ha-haaaaa! Ooooooh, my dear... You've aged so horribly! Horribly! Horribly! I fear!" The stench was a horrendous alchemical concoction, an aroma so foul, I dare not elaborate upon any further. Yet, the gentleman that he is, he endured the smell for the sake of pleasantries with this Hylian, long since passed. "Hideous! Hideous! Hideous! Tch, tch, tch, oh my dear, dear, dear... Poverty has stricken you of life, looks, and love! Ma-ha-ha-haaa!" With surgical precision, he gently wrapped his glover around her small wrinkled hand, and pulled her up. She slouched back immediately, and he gently placed her frail corpse against the headstone. "Mayhaps? My dear? Mayhaps the last of the Lee Skubs could replicate that lost sensation of youthful vitality?"
Danse Macabre - By Camille Saint-Saëns
"Ma-ha-ha-haaaaa! Will you? Won't you? Will you? Won't you? Won't you join the dance?"
"Ma-ha-ha-haaaaa! Will you? Won't you? Will you? Won't you? Won't you join the dance?"
Her lifeless body nestled itself within the cozy bed of grass and slouched lazily against her own headstone. A blank and inanimate expression as her mouth fell agape. Salazar tilted his head lightly, and delicately extended his right hand for her. Innocently, the cad swept her up with a twirl. She fell back like a rag doll, her feet hovering above dirt as she twirled aside. A white glove had delicately nestled itself within the side of her pelvis, pressed cozily against her tattered dress. Another glove delicately wrapped itself around her small and frail hand. With a profound and inexplicable euphoria, he whisked her off her feet, sweeping her across the dirt, small particles of dust daintily dancing beneath her. Left to right, right to left, they circled about swaying daintily under the pale moonlight. Tiptoeing here, tiptoeing there, they stepped and twirled, stepped and twirled, circling her now battered grave site thrice. Tiptoeing here, tiptoeing there, they stepped and danced, and pranced. A swift breeze whirled reality away, and at that very moment the delusional mind of Salazar Lee Skub whisked the pair away to fantasy land of his own mind. It was absolutely magical. Tufts of grass withered and wilted away within a matter of mere moments, his shoes tapping against and echoing across empty fields of marble flooring. Hundreds of other feet tapped and twirled in unison with his. A ball room dance of one hundred skeleton men, tapping their boney feet against the ground and rattling harmoniously in their dance. Neighboring tree bark twisted and contorted into magnificent, chiseled columns as Salazar and the bone men tiptoed by; and the blackened sky flushed into a pale golden white, a shimmering ceiling that was above even the expenditures of the King of Hyrule himself. An endless ballroom, the likes of which only the diluted mind of Salazar himself could've conjured up. His fantastical would soon fade off, and the grim reality that their dance simply went circles around her headstone settled back in. It was as if all light had suddenly been expunged, leaving the world in a sudden crippling darkness. Quietly, he looked to her frail hand, admiring the shimmering jewel resting on her middle finger. "My... My dear..." He announced as though he were shocked by the revelation of this beloved trinket "What an arousing ring you've got here... Surely this would be ample compensation for our dance of death?" Holding her hand up, the rogue put his mask up, just above his pale lips, and lightly smooched her knuckles "Splendid! Splendid! I'll take it post haste! Though... If I'm being quite candid... I did not entirely unenjoy our lovely encounter this evening..." He grinned scandalously as he once more guised his face, lightly tugging at the ring, sliding it from her finger on to his. "Oh! Madam, you flatter! Perhaps one more dance, then I shall scatter!" With childish delight, he whisked the corpse of it's feet once more. "Shall we, madame?"
| @vladimir |