Skin is a sensual disease (Damien)

[Rose Decumbry]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] It’d been awhile since she’d been too any beach, really. The last time had been what…ninety something years ago? Damn sires and damn immortality. Though, it did have its perks most of the time. Her blond hair whipped behind her, as she sat there crouched on border of the river beach, peering into its small ocean. Who knew why she’d located to Paris, maybe because they respected privacy? If only she could move her home here, she’d be content. But Rose couldn’t do that regardless if she had the choice. Her entire life, built up around her estate, and she’d be more than damned if she’d give it up. More than once people had tried to convince her to move out, and it hadn’t ended well for those select. She didn’t take kindly to people telling her what to do in the first place, which was why she didn’t have a manager. Rose would be held for countless acts of murder, which would lead back to her bloody and violent past. A gentle spine ran through her gut, a smile on her inner self. Her half naked body shifted, so that she lay facing the night. The most sun she’d get would be from a rub on tan. Even at the cynic humor, she couldn’t help but chortle to herself. She was alone, like she was most of the time. Unable to hold a man, without taking the kindest sip from his throat, or other parts. Yet another rush of excitement caressed her body. What was with her emotions tonight, they were taking a new high? No matter to her though, she enjoyed being alone. A sigh escaped the back of her throat, her bathing suit catching sand. Why had she even bought a swimsuit? Oh right, people suspected that she was human and not some supernatural creature that could only come out at night. Why couldn’t she have been bitten by a werewolf? She already knew that answer though; she didn’t want to die. At times maybe she did, but she’d regret her thoughts or words. She liked living even though it wasn’t natural. She liked being able to fake breathing, and pretending that injuries hurt, because it made her feel human. Possibly the closest she could get, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. Rose let her eyes fall close, enjoying the silence. Her guard was down, probably a mistake to those. But not for her, she was aged, and knew how to react quickly in hunted situations. Though she doubted she was being hunted. Rose probably already would have caught on, and disposed of her stalker. In fact, most recently she had avoided most trouble and dangerous situations. The wild and thorny rose had quieted down, at least for the time being. Her body was laying out full, showing off the curves of her toned muscles, and the smallest of curves in the outline of her body. Even if someone did happen to walk across her path, they’d more than likely be stunned. To see what they imagined to be a sleeping beauty. And more than likely, they would try to take advantage of her, her petite complex and all. Even though they were under an illusion and Rose would catch a free meal without even trying. Life was good when you were beautiful and dead. ----------------------------------------------- Wearing this with a count of 559