House of Seven
By: Savanna Macri
The growls came across the sky as time struck a new chord.
"He should have been here by now," Pride told the others, starting first at the frosted window, and then to the grandfather clock. The household shivered and hummed, rhythm together with every beat of the sky as their newest resident ran a tad behind. The clock ticked louder with every passing second, every instance the household feared their efforts had been left in the dust, and a chance at their own redemption was squandered.
"Maybe he stopped to get some rest," Sloth suggest where he remained perched on the steps, tints of gray and slate blue hovering around him as he pressed his head against the last column, his eyelids drooling low and ringed by oily hues of lavender and powder blue, like puffy clouds. He still tried his hardest to stay alert, at least until he was allowed to cease his efforts, but every second added a stone to his shoulders as he let a single lock of his feather-coated loose jacket wither to the floor from his shoulder, unwilling to move an inch to retrieve it. The dust across the feather remained thick and caked, specs fluttering as dull glittering in the air with a light enough movement, but Sloth never cared to clean them.
Greed made the first move to Sloth's discarded feather, snatching it quickly and stowing it away to add to his collection in the hopes of making his own coat. He snickered with the feathers in hand, the dust staining his dried skin, and he looked to the clock.
"I say we make him tip us every minute his late," he proposed with a wicked grin, exposed with the hint of laughter than came with believing the world was mad. A few diamonds dripped from his pockets, the dull chains looped around his wrists, though he stayed unshackled, key in palm, both always on display for the others to see.
Envy groaned, twirling back and forth through the entry and trailing smears of faded lime green, his eyes darting constantly to Greed's polished gold pendant that twinkled miraculously like starlight, crisp and cleansed, with a singular row of crystals on the back capping. Envy couldn't stand to look at it for long, and yet he never stopped thinking of it, never stopped stealing closer looks and delicate touches.
"If only we had that... why don't we?" he sneered as he traced the glass snake accessory drooled along his collar, his nails clinking against the vitrified animal. His voice started dry, his brows drawn downward to a narrowed point that only Wrath ever took notice of.
"I think we deserve it far more than anyone," Wrath growled. He stormed from the further extent of the entry hall, his arms crossed tightly and chin lowered, lips puckered as a pouting child, but the flames of his face never faded the look of pure destruction from his gaze Around his neck, his dark collar remained hitched, tucked to his chin, with the embedded teeth design snarling and sharpened, and while he had enough containment of himself for now, the others new he would soon take the turn and conceal his mouth with it, at least upon first arrival of the new resident, while the hammer stayed securely at his side.
Pride snapped, moving away from the others while he could. "Of course, we do," he replied sharply, "but we don't always get what we want, even though we should!" He straighten the thorn crown over his skull, flecked with patterns of ruby and gold, while his gaze insinuated through the hall like a blade, his shoulders permanently poised and certain. There wasn't much that could tear down Pride, except for the constant bumps with the other household members, the way his demands and requests flew away from them like the wind without merely a moment of capturing.
And on this day, tensions were high enough as they were in anticipation for a new resident, a new mission.
A lock of thin fabric dribbled from the arch, linking upward toward the dazzling chandelier across the upstairs floor where a slender figure illuminated against the shadows. "I could get you what you want," Lust said pointedly, his fingers stroking the top petal of the enlarged, clustered blossoms looped around his shoulder as a blanket, secluded but free. With delicate, loose precision, he glided down the staircase, trialing the glittering fabrics of his forgotten cloak by him with one hand, while tracing the flowers with the other, painting white and red.
Gluttony stumbled inward, his boots flimsy and worn, and crumbs stuck to his chin. Fresh blood glistened around his typical hands, the fingers chewed the bones, but he never made a mess of his things. "Need anything? Of course, you do, never bother!" he praised, flinging himself clumsily back into the steam and warmth of the kitchen where he had been since dusk of the prior night.
Between the time Lust slid from the stairs dressed in wispy cloaks, his eyes patient and certain, holding flimsy sheets from the bed upstairs in early dawn while ravished in Venus trapper flowers and ruby red roses that matched the color of his lips, to Gluttony, who gnawed on his fingers more, even through his gloves, and raced from the kitchen with a tray in arms, laden with junctions of fresh baked goods to give first-hand upon the next resident's arrival, the household of "Seven" had been ruthlessly chaotic, drenched in tangling hues of wild colors. Sloth was last to join, flowing lowly down into the room with others like molasses, his eyes closed most entirely while trying to keep his feathers aligned as best he could.
Since the news, the Seven all found themselves bickering over, tying themselves by strings to remain formidable. Sloth kept his chin up and eyes open, Lust cloaked himself and the flowers in heavier fabrics, Gluttony wore chain-leather over his flesh and pour pepper on his tongue, Wrath bit into his collar and latched it closed as tight as he could, Greed squeezed the shackles to lock his hands to cut into his skin, Envy stared deadly into a mirror and looped the glass snake more securely, and Pride pricked and stabbed his fingers against the thorns of his crowd.
All for the sake of the household.
Despite the mass numbers that aligned themselves into their auras toward the end of their lives, the household reputation repelled people away during livelihood, albeit, many who joined after death did so unintentionally. The human race, to which so many of the residences belonged, had been playing at children's games from the beginning, and will probably do it till the end, which is a nuisance for the few people who wind themselves into the abomination with one of the household founders, which is the very thing that led the seven founders to migrate onward into the realm of physicality, a hand still dipped below to continue their natural order.
But, of course, no one wandered in certainly, at not as long as any possibly visitors were observant and unwilling enough, too cautious and unprepared in the physical world now. The seven founders were not the most approachable types to those who held the belief system that crushed them, staining their names in wicked extremes that sent child into panic, and the Seven into isolation of hatred and dismay.
They could never alter the course in the way below, but in the physical world, they had at least obtained a new hand, as abandoned as it was for the most part. After all, the only ones that ever arrived at the physical-world household were those that didn't mind the reputation and rumors, or didn't believe a word of it. A joke told. A promise kept. Who would ever believe such a thing anyways.
And it's at that weakest point where the house had a job, destine to prove everyone wrong about their intentions, an acceptance and understanding.
The household stood firm in the storm, as it did in the sun, and the seven remained permanently inside.
There was a simple motto for the house--"Bad human nature is still human nature"--and it stood for their personal injustices set upon them through the ideology of evilness through the eyes of the grand overlord, the desire for equal acceptance and honesty. Either end, the house stood for redemption, both for visitors and for the lords inside, and now the next mission had arrived, the next phase in proving each of the Seven were not all wicked at all, but of equal remarkability as any other form of human nature, set to give upon the newcomer who would arrive with open arms.
They were running loose on time until their next resident, hopefully a resident that would stay for a long while and persist with the process, for they had their plan and posts organized enough:
Gluttony had the meals, Sloth had the feathers, Lust had the roses, Envy had the glass, Greed had the jewels, Wrath had the hammer, and Pride had the crowd.
All ready to give away to the visitor in need, where such individual natures, finally extended out as a helping hand.
Lights flickered through the storm, and the clock stopped abruptly.
The resident had finally arrived.
