Boundary of Emptiness
Author: tsunderes
Character/Fandom: Diva/Blood+
Prompt: 04. binary system;
Word Count: 1064
Summary: Diva prepares for a dinner party, but there's a small accident.
Author Notes/Warnings: Death, blood, violence, etc.
Diva dipped her fingers into the blood.
Tracing circles lightly in the blood, she then smeared her pinky across her lower lip.
Glancing up to the mirror, it looked like a bright shade of lipstick.
A droplet flowed down to her chin, and she smiled.
"How beautiful."
"Madame, you'll look as beautiful ever in this gown."
Diva just nodded absently as the two maids prepared the dress and its various things for her. She sat in her underclothes in a chair off to the side, looking out the window distantly. The two maids looked at her, then to each other, exchanging nervous glances. Something terrible had happened to their mistress, but she would never give them as much of a hint why. They were rarely allowed to see her at all, as she locked herself up in her room all day, but when they did, they could not help but think of a remark Jill had made.
She really did look like an elegant doll, sitting there. Her face was devoid of expression, but still absolutely perfect in every way, and sitting in this big, lonely dollhouse, she was a princess. But they couldn't say a word about that. Jill and Claire liked their jobs too much for that. It worried them to see her like this, less out of concern for her, and more out of concern for their jobs.
However, for now, they had to do as they had been told. They held the expensive, vintage dress in their hands as they delicately brushed the fabric to clean and soften it before it was put on her. It seemed to be made of jewels, like the fabric had been dipped in gold and silver, then left to dry in the sun until every light that touched the fabric made it glitter. The long, luxuriant fur coat that went with it was no less impressive, and each of them very carefully prepared the dress.
Jill was the one that spoke first, since she held the dress. "Miss Goldsmith, it's ready. Would you rather go in the bathroom to change?"
They both watched curiously as she seemed to be torn from her distant thoughts, and her both bright and dulled blue eyes met theirs, as if she was surprised to see them. She stood gracefully, walking closer.
"I would. Thank you," she responded politely, but it still felt just as distant and unfeeling. Jill and Claire once again exchanged nervous glances, and Jill led Diva into the bathroom.
"I think it'll look really beautiful on you, dear. You'll stand out at your dinner party for sure!" Jill said cheerfully, but Diva just moved to the counter, starting to busy herself with makeup.
"You think so?"
"I'm sure of it! With as beautiful as you are, you're sure to attract a wonderful boyfriend, or even husband," Jill said. It was, to her, a brave statement, since they were sure that was what was the matter. Their poor mistress was ill with a broken heart.
"I'm not interested. I don't really like being tied down," Diva said coolly, brushing blush onto her pale cheeks, turning them rosy.
Jill frowned, feeling thwarted, and set the dress over her arm until she finished applying her makeup. Once she turned to face her, Jill was taken aback by her appearance once more. With the colors suddenly applied, it seemed that she was even more of a doll. Her skin was so pale that it was the color of porcelain. She wondered if perhaps she really was ill, but didn't get a chance to speak. Diva had already started to take of the top of her underclothes.
The interesting thing about the dress was that it was both beautiful, and slightly dangerous, in a way. Jill moved the dress to start to put it over her mistress' head, but recoiled, making a pained noise. Diva looked with disinterest, but her eyes widened to see Jill holding her finger.
A small cut had been formed, and bubbles of blood swelled about the light cut. She realized in an instant that she hadn't eaten at all since Crane offered her the glasses of foreign blood.
It didn't run like water. It was thicker than that, and flowed slowly, almost with leisure, until it finally dripped down the drain. White tiles were covered by droplets of red, making it look like a pattern. It seemed natural to have the bright crimson against such soft ivory. There was nothing usual about that.
But laying on the floor, that was unnatural. Corpses were unsightly, and not nearly as artistic as the blood that spilled from them. But she didn't look at the corpse. The puddles of blood that slipped down the slightest slope, they were the interesting part. She didn't make a noise, just kept the slight smile on her face. She kneeled, and felt the warmth of fresh blood against her knees, staining the light blue fabric that she wore. That was just as unsightly.
"J-Jill!" Claire screamed from the doorway, and Diva looked up with a small noise of surprise.
Silence filled the house once more, and Diva glanced in the mirror calmly, watching Claire's blood slide down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, all down until it dripped on the floor. She thought that they looked like ribbons, but it still wasn't as beautiful as she would have liked.
She stepped over the corpse, taking a towel and brushing the ribbons away and slipping off the rest of her clothes to go change into her gown. There was an oppressive silence as she moved the fabric across her skin, stretching and twisting to get into it without tearing the delicate fabric. It settled comfortably on her shoulders, and Diva smiled contently.
Diva shrugged the heavy coat onto her shoulders, looking into the mirror once more before she stepped out of her room. Diva realized, distantly, that something was missing. She stepped into the bathroom once more, looking indifferently at the two bodies collapsed over each other with expressions of terror upon their faces.
A distant memory came to her, and Diva smiled absently. Picking up the corners of her dress carefully, she dipped just the very tips of her fingers into the pools of blood. She took all the care as a woman might normally, smearing the sanguine lipstick across her lips as she looked at her eerily smiling reflection in the mirror. A droplet flowed down to her chin, and she smiled.
"How beautiful."
Character/Fandom: Diva/Blood+
Prompt: 04. binary system;
Word Count: 1064
Summary: Diva prepares for a dinner party, but there's a small accident.
Author Notes/Warnings: Death, blood, violence, etc.
Diva dipped her fingers into the blood.
Tracing circles lightly in the blood, she then smeared her pinky across her lower lip.
Glancing up to the mirror, it looked like a bright shade of lipstick.
A droplet flowed down to her chin, and she smiled.
"How beautiful."
"Madame, you'll look as beautiful ever in this gown."
Diva just nodded absently as the two maids prepared the dress and its various things for her. She sat in her underclothes in a chair off to the side, looking out the window distantly. The two maids looked at her, then to each other, exchanging nervous glances. Something terrible had happened to their mistress, but she would never give them as much of a hint why. They were rarely allowed to see her at all, as she locked herself up in her room all day, but when they did, they could not help but think of a remark Jill had made.
She really did look like an elegant doll, sitting there. Her face was devoid of expression, but still absolutely perfect in every way, and sitting in this big, lonely dollhouse, she was a princess. But they couldn't say a word about that. Jill and Claire liked their jobs too much for that. It worried them to see her like this, less out of concern for her, and more out of concern for their jobs.
However, for now, they had to do as they had been told. They held the expensive, vintage dress in their hands as they delicately brushed the fabric to clean and soften it before it was put on her. It seemed to be made of jewels, like the fabric had been dipped in gold and silver, then left to dry in the sun until every light that touched the fabric made it glitter. The long, luxuriant fur coat that went with it was no less impressive, and each of them very carefully prepared the dress.
Jill was the one that spoke first, since she held the dress. "Miss Goldsmith, it's ready. Would you rather go in the bathroom to change?"
They both watched curiously as she seemed to be torn from her distant thoughts, and her both bright and dulled blue eyes met theirs, as if she was surprised to see them. She stood gracefully, walking closer.
"I would. Thank you," she responded politely, but it still felt just as distant and unfeeling. Jill and Claire once again exchanged nervous glances, and Jill led Diva into the bathroom.
"I think it'll look really beautiful on you, dear. You'll stand out at your dinner party for sure!" Jill said cheerfully, but Diva just moved to the counter, starting to busy herself with makeup.
"You think so?"
"I'm sure of it! With as beautiful as you are, you're sure to attract a wonderful boyfriend, or even husband," Jill said. It was, to her, a brave statement, since they were sure that was what was the matter. Their poor mistress was ill with a broken heart.
"I'm not interested. I don't really like being tied down," Diva said coolly, brushing blush onto her pale cheeks, turning them rosy.
Jill frowned, feeling thwarted, and set the dress over her arm until she finished applying her makeup. Once she turned to face her, Jill was taken aback by her appearance once more. With the colors suddenly applied, it seemed that she was even more of a doll. Her skin was so pale that it was the color of porcelain. She wondered if perhaps she really was ill, but didn't get a chance to speak. Diva had already started to take of the top of her underclothes.
The interesting thing about the dress was that it was both beautiful, and slightly dangerous, in a way. Jill moved the dress to start to put it over her mistress' head, but recoiled, making a pained noise. Diva looked with disinterest, but her eyes widened to see Jill holding her finger.
A small cut had been formed, and bubbles of blood swelled about the light cut. She realized in an instant that she hadn't eaten at all since Crane offered her the glasses of foreign blood.
It didn't run like water. It was thicker than that, and flowed slowly, almost with leisure, until it finally dripped down the drain. White tiles were covered by droplets of red, making it look like a pattern. It seemed natural to have the bright crimson against such soft ivory. There was nothing usual about that.
But laying on the floor, that was unnatural. Corpses were unsightly, and not nearly as artistic as the blood that spilled from them. But she didn't look at the corpse. The puddles of blood that slipped down the slightest slope, they were the interesting part. She didn't make a noise, just kept the slight smile on her face. She kneeled, and felt the warmth of fresh blood against her knees, staining the light blue fabric that she wore. That was just as unsightly.
"J-Jill!" Claire screamed from the doorway, and Diva looked up with a small noise of surprise.
Silence filled the house once more, and Diva glanced in the mirror calmly, watching Claire's blood slide down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, all down until it dripped on the floor. She thought that they looked like ribbons, but it still wasn't as beautiful as she would have liked.
She stepped over the corpse, taking a towel and brushing the ribbons away and slipping off the rest of her clothes to go change into her gown. There was an oppressive silence as she moved the fabric across her skin, stretching and twisting to get into it without tearing the delicate fabric. It settled comfortably on her shoulders, and Diva smiled contently.
Diva shrugged the heavy coat onto her shoulders, looking into the mirror once more before she stepped out of her room. Diva realized, distantly, that something was missing. She stepped into the bathroom once more, looking indifferently at the two bodies collapsed over each other with expressions of terror upon their faces.
A distant memory came to her, and Diva smiled absently. Picking up the corners of her dress carefully, she dipped just the very tips of her fingers into the pools of blood. She took all the care as a woman might normally, smearing the sanguine lipstick across her lips as she looked at her eerily smiling reflection in the mirror. A droplet flowed down to her chin, and she smiled.
"How beautiful."