03-24-2018, 01:20 AM
Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
Her green eyes go over my body as if she has a right to me, a right to my pain. Before, I would have shown her the same fire as in the field; but as I stand before her now, feeling the loss of my child without having actually birthed her myself, I can only stare. Listen to her plea. Listen to the whistle of the void as it courses through me, around me, until there's nothing left.
"You lost them in the first place," I deadpan. "Why involve me." It's a statement, not a question. As she stands there, seeming softer than last we spoke, I wonder if she can see my hardened edges, the razors that now combine to form my whole exterior. And yet as I watch her watching me, as if there's hope, as if this life isn't meaningless, a part of me gives. A latch somewhere, deep inside, clicks; and the razors unravel.
"I don't know what I want yet. But you'll give it to me when I do."
Taking a shaking inhale, I step closer to her, feeling the exhaustion of the past day dragging us closer to the realm where we may glimpse her children. Our proximity thickens the air around us. Eyelids drooping, I reach out to touch her, but pause, realizing that she'll have no idea of what's to come. No idea of what's about to become.
"I'm taking you to another realm. You'll be able to call up an image of your children, to converse with them. Perhaps you'll learn something. I am simply a... medium. I will bring you there, and hold you there, but it is you who will find your children. Not me." Gazing at her heavily, I take one more breath, and close the distance between us.
What feels like hours pass before the world begins to form around us (and perhaps it has been hours after all - hours of true sleep as my body and mind regroup, checking to see what has been damaged or lost in the trauma before pulling together to transport us one step further than sleep). Her neck is moist beneath my lips, and I nudge her gently, waking her. I cannot distinguish the world around - no, that will be for her to see.
"You lost them in the first place," I deadpan. "Why involve me." It's a statement, not a question. As she stands there, seeming softer than last we spoke, I wonder if she can see my hardened edges, the razors that now combine to form my whole exterior. And yet as I watch her watching me, as if there's hope, as if this life isn't meaningless, a part of me gives. A latch somewhere, deep inside, clicks; and the razors unravel.
"I don't know what I want yet. But you'll give it to me when I do."
Taking a shaking inhale, I step closer to her, feeling the exhaustion of the past day dragging us closer to the realm where we may glimpse her children. Our proximity thickens the air around us. Eyelids drooping, I reach out to touch her, but pause, realizing that she'll have no idea of what's to come. No idea of what's about to become.
"I'm taking you to another realm. You'll be able to call up an image of your children, to converse with them. Perhaps you'll learn something. I am simply a... medium. I will bring you there, and hold you there, but it is you who will find your children. Not me." Gazing at her heavily, I take one more breath, and close the distance between us.
What feels like hours pass before the world begins to form around us (and perhaps it has been hours after all - hours of true sleep as my body and mind regroup, checking to see what has been damaged or lost in the trauma before pulling together to transport us one step further than sleep). Her neck is moist beneath my lips, and I nudge her gently, waking her. I cannot distinguish the world around - no, that will be for her to see.
Kagerus
sweet nothing
@[Hestia] Have fun love, you have 100% creative control over what happens next.
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
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