Takei
He misses color. Despite all of the other things he’s lost in the past few weeks (his friends, his lover, his island), he aches for bright, beautiful colors almost as much as he aches for them. He misses the way they drape across shapes, reflecting the light of the sun. It’s a strange thing — feeling the warmth of the sun but being unable to see the way it casts shadows on the ground. All his life Takei has been able to see the source of the heat that dapples his shoulders. Yet suddenly that knowledge has been ripped from him.
He isn’t sure what time of day it is anymore.
The voice startles Takei from his thoughts. Without his normal habits (chasing the seagulls, wading in the ocean, watching the newborns learn to walk and run and jump) he often finds himself getting lost in himself. More specifically, lost in the bottomless pit of his grief. His aching head turns toward the sound of the voice, though it’s obvious from the low, careful swing of his head that he isn’t sure exactly where the sound came from.
“Hello?” His voice echos the first, though there is the uplift of a question at the end of it. He is thrown off by his lack of sight, swimming in an unfamiliar sea. Takei blinks hard in a vain attempt at clearing the darkness from his milky eyes. “Who’s there? Who are you?” Anxiety begins to brew in his chest, sharp and bitter.
Takei knows of the predators of Beqanna. He also knows he isn’t fit enough to survive should one of them attack.
He isn’t sure what time of day it is anymore.
The voice startles Takei from his thoughts. Without his normal habits (chasing the seagulls, wading in the ocean, watching the newborns learn to walk and run and jump) he often finds himself getting lost in himself. More specifically, lost in the bottomless pit of his grief. His aching head turns toward the sound of the voice, though it’s obvious from the low, careful swing of his head that he isn’t sure exactly where the sound came from.
“Hello?” His voice echos the first, though there is the uplift of a question at the end of it. He is thrown off by his lack of sight, swimming in an unfamiliar sea. Takei blinks hard in a vain attempt at clearing the darkness from his milky eyes. “Who’s there? Who are you?” Anxiety begins to brew in his chest, sharp and bitter.
Takei knows of the predators of Beqanna. He also knows he isn’t fit enough to survive should one of them attack.
watch the mind run far away, way ahead of us
@[Scissorhands]