Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
12/13/2023
Skarholm
2 Reviews
Translated
Show original
Skarholm
Widely traveled blue blood and guardian of the grail
The one knight of all knights has entered the hall - or was he there long before everyone else?
No one knows for sure. The attention is focused on him alone, and time loses its veil of presence.
He is dressed dark and heavy, his armor gleaming raspberry black. His mink is purple and embroidered with ripe, dark vines. They are in bloom, bearing berries and deadly nightshades that drip down from his cloak. Not a hint of frivolous decoration, but the full organic substance. Blood it has, has beaten itself in sweat. For hidden underneath, unmistakably, a body of noble strength and potency, noble flesh and muscles steeled by exertion.
The dark one changes quickly (...he would have liked to show off his origins a little more), takes the heavy robes aside and pulls out a pink perfume box from under his cloak. Thorns have pushed their way through its viewing holes and flowers are steaming out their nectar. She only idly holds together what vibrates inside her and has long since become too tight for her.
Her hands bleed from all the spikes digging into them. But everything suddenly smells of roses, light pink thorny roses. There is no decency, it would be unworthy of a grail guardian. They have soaked up sun and dew and light over countless ages, in gardens beyond the reach of man.
The room shines. Everyone recognizes that it is him. And only he can be.
One thing is certain, he will outlive everyone here. His roses will still bloom and give the world a breath, the only one, when those of the others have long since faded.
No one knows for sure. The attention is focused on him alone, and time loses its veil of presence.
He is dressed dark and heavy, his armor gleaming raspberry black. His mink is purple and embroidered with ripe, dark vines. They are in bloom, bearing berries and deadly nightshades that drip down from his cloak. Not a hint of frivolous decoration, but the full organic substance. Blood it has, has beaten itself in sweat. For hidden underneath, unmistakably, a body of noble strength and potency, noble flesh and muscles steeled by exertion.
The dark one changes quickly (...he would have liked to show off his origins a little more), takes the heavy robes aside and pulls out a pink perfume box from under his cloak. Thorns have pushed their way through its viewing holes and flowers are steaming out their nectar. She only idly holds together what vibrates inside her and has long since become too tight for her.
Her hands bleed from all the spikes digging into them. But everything suddenly smells of roses, light pink thorny roses. There is no decency, it would be unworthy of a grail guardian. They have soaked up sun and dew and light over countless ages, in gardens beyond the reach of man.
The room shines. Everyone recognizes that it is him. And only he can be.
One thing is certain, he will outlive everyone here. His roses will still bloom and give the world a breath, the only one, when those of the others have long since faded.
Owennn
