RelationshipsUntitled he rather likes, but can't figure out why. Perhaps it's the sculpture's unrelenting good nature. Others who he remembers vaguely, but can't put name or face to, include D?, Grace and Twin. |
I dreamt of the most fantastical place I could, of a place without need or want, without rule, and when I fell from the Dreamtime, there I was. And there I was. Which of me was me? The mirror image or the mirror?
Somewhere in the chaos of Downwarp he built himself a home, a cozy little den of iniquity and opiates amidst the bustle of Eisenstimmen and Gridspeakers, a glossy, refined jewel nestled into a decayed setting. And there he waits, rarely venturing from his comfortable chaise.
Someday I will find my way back, but I am sure it will only make me wish for another place to call my home.
Not one, but two strange cryptid felines compose this being. Two separate bodies, but one consciousness, Helix Black and Helix White are Marozi, a little-known species of African feline, which may or may not exist at all. They appear to be some combination of lion and leopard, having features of both, and their size and stature seems somewhere between the two, an aesthetic balance of lean muscle and powerful bulk, with strong, broad shoulders and lithe runners' legs.
Both halves of Helix have a thick pelt speckled with leopard-like spots, of a colour corresponding to their designation -- White is white with charcoal-grey spots, Black is black with dusty white spots. Despite their masculinity, and their lionish heritage, neither of them have manes. Instead, they both sport long dreadlocks of the same colour as their pelts, with small objects are braided into them, an EE-PROM chip here, a mouse skull there; a curious metallic-looking feather, a small processor chip of some kind and several bells. Rounded ears, each pierced with a silver crescent, stand up from the twins' heads.
Black outlines the twins' eyes, the blind-white left eye ringed with a jagged starburst pattern. The right eyes, vibrant yellow for Helix Black and glittering red for Helix White, have no pupils, just a series of black lines and concentric broken circles, like a crosshair, and a tiny, un-moving, black dot where the pupil would be. The twins both smile at the same time and in the same fashion, revealing the silvered upper and lower canines that lie behind black/white lips, the lower of which are pierced with a slender silver spike.
Their clothing is patchworked, bits of vinyl and latex strung together with glowing red laces. Each sleeveless 'shirt' has a high collar, and is laced together over the left shoulder, the red lace curiously seeming to attach shirt to skin as well as holding the fabric together. The scrapwork garment fits tight over the chest, and forms a pair of flaps as it flows over the torso, creating the impression of a loincloth, almost. Over this each twin wears a tattered black nylon tactical vest, pockets bulging with mysterious contents. Beneath the vest and shirt, a pair of ragged cargo pants, cut off at just above the knee to make shorts. Between the shorts and the boots, several inches of black-red-yellow striped leggings are visible. Both pairs of boots are heavy, black-leather and reach to just below the knee, held on by an intimidating array of straps, buckles and zippers.
Bare arms are decorated by a few concessions. A strip of red cloth is wound around each twin's left bicep, its ends hanging free. Below that, a thinner black cord with a tiny bell on each end, and a series of random, multicoloured beads above the bells. Left forearms are wrapped in a sheath of leather, seamless and black with inch-tall steel spikes studding it. Both right wrists bear an assortment of spiked and studded cuffs, and one single-ring bondage cuff which Helix seems to care for especially. Each finger bears a plain silver ring that spans the distance between first and second knuckle, and the palm of both twins' left hands has a tattoo which reads 'Our Only Silence Is Death'. A motley group of necklaces wind around the twins' necks, one heavy shot-bead chain, a large Iron Cross on a black cord, what appears to be a bird skull of some sort on a leather thong, and a bright-red ball gag on a buckled leather strap.
Helix seems to have returned. Tucked away somewhere on his person is a small vial of greenish-blue, cloudy liquid, and he speaks of having found the way 'back'.
Untitled he rather likes, but can't figure out why. Perhaps it's the sculpture's unrelenting good nature.
Others who he remembers vaguely, but can't put name or face to, include D?, Grace and Twin.
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