03-06-2018, 08:00 PM
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.
Where his options are life and death, I have a third - dreams. Ones that I am addicted to, that leave me with withdrawals after going too long without. If he could have this third option, I wonder what he would pick - would it still be life? Or would it be a realm where anything is possible - but not real. Never real. Not for long, anyway.
He had accepted the call, one that I have heard so often now too, it's voice filled with a knowing glee that leaves me sick and hungry all at once. I can see before me the very consequences of having accepted such a life, one where the thirst is stronger than any drink can quench... I can see it in his tattered red skin, in the black of his eyes, in the way he holds himself.
And yet I see more in him too. For as he speaks, it is softly, and not in a menacing way; in a way that invites me to step closer, to ease into his personal space, comforted by this familial devil. He and Kavi are the same that way, at least in moments like these: inexplicably inviting. Except that it makes sense on Kavi - he is the essence of light and purity. Rodrik, though.
Perhaps there is purity in the darkness, too.
"I'm honoured to be the one who welcomes you back, Uncle," I murmur, smiling as he does, a shiver running over me as I recognize the expression as my father's - and as my own. But on his face, it is somehow more important - as if I shouldn't look away for its entire duration. But I lower my eyes at his final comment, not blushing but something close to it. For one such as him - a master, though of what I couldn't tell you - to say such a thing... It, too, is important.
"Thank you. I only recently acquired the spots..." I pause, open my mouth, close it again, not sure how to tell him that I shared an embrace with his mother not a year ago. His dead mother, but - she had been real, too. And not a dream. "I was able to speak with Kagerou not long ago. She wanted you to know that she loves you." It's a falsehood, she hadn't been able to speak - but I could see the words in her nutmeg eyes, identical to mine.
It's a falsehood I am happy to bear.
Slowly, as if it might take minutes, an expression of dark intrigue and curiosity overcomes my pretty face. My eyes are continually snagged on the painful wounds adorning my uncle, distracting me not because of their gore, but because of the way they glisten in the moonlight. My tongue flashes across my lips.
I am thirsty.
"Uncle..." I tilt my head, squint at him quizzically, wondering if he can sense the occult in me, too. "Do you trust me?"
He had accepted the call, one that I have heard so often now too, it's voice filled with a knowing glee that leaves me sick and hungry all at once. I can see before me the very consequences of having accepted such a life, one where the thirst is stronger than any drink can quench... I can see it in his tattered red skin, in the black of his eyes, in the way he holds himself.
And yet I see more in him too. For as he speaks, it is softly, and not in a menacing way; in a way that invites me to step closer, to ease into his personal space, comforted by this familial devil. He and Kavi are the same that way, at least in moments like these: inexplicably inviting. Except that it makes sense on Kavi - he is the essence of light and purity. Rodrik, though.
Perhaps there is purity in the darkness, too.
"I'm honoured to be the one who welcomes you back, Uncle," I murmur, smiling as he does, a shiver running over me as I recognize the expression as my father's - and as my own. But on his face, it is somehow more important - as if I shouldn't look away for its entire duration. But I lower my eyes at his final comment, not blushing but something close to it. For one such as him - a master, though of what I couldn't tell you - to say such a thing... It, too, is important.
"Thank you. I only recently acquired the spots..." I pause, open my mouth, close it again, not sure how to tell him that I shared an embrace with his mother not a year ago. His dead mother, but - she had been real, too. And not a dream. "I was able to speak with Kagerou not long ago. She wanted you to know that she loves you." It's a falsehood, she hadn't been able to speak - but I could see the words in her nutmeg eyes, identical to mine.
It's a falsehood I am happy to bear.
Slowly, as if it might take minutes, an expression of dark intrigue and curiosity overcomes my pretty face. My eyes are continually snagged on the painful wounds adorning my uncle, distracting me not because of their gore, but because of the way they glisten in the moonlight. My tongue flashes across my lips.
I am thirsty.
"Uncle..." I tilt my head, squint at him quizzically, wondering if he can sense the occult in me, too. "Do you trust me?"
Kagerus
sweet nothing
I always love it when you ghost back for a few threads Shelbi. You truly are a master at writing. I am always so humbled when I get to word with you. <3
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver