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03-16-2015, 03:15 PM
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The sky lanced with light, but it wasn’t the same sort of stuff like the aurora I had seen. This was something else a lot more violent and a lot more familiar, because I had been feeling it even before I knew I was a child of Spark; it raced through the black summer clouds that billowed overhead, a heated, angry serpent forged from blinding light. Lightning; the sky boomed and crashed with its fury, and beneath the shadow of the clouds, the world was getting flooded. I was drenched long before I saw the thing, the tower-like structure with the stained-glass shit that I couldn’t see then, not in that type of darkness. My whole body was heavy with the water dripping from my frame and my mane—which normally stuck straight up and out at all times—was so water-laden that it was finally laying down, soggy and plastered to the side of my neck. I guess sense should have told me that going underneath he tower thing would’ve been the smart idea, what with sickness ‘n shit liking to find its way into your lungs after you’ve taken a rain-bath like I was. But nah, man, I was on a mission. I was on a roll. “This is rain,” I whispered, setting the egg down in some mud so I could use my mouth again, “and this is mud. It gets like this after its all hot like it has been lately. It’ll stop soon but—hey, it feels cool, doesn’t it?” I watched the egg glisten in the light that flashed from the arching, angry sparks that danced in the sky—the egg still glistened, even when wet. I got to my knees and they were ruined and the wind howled and mud found a way to get on my neck and a little too close to my eye and I didn’t care, I didn’t care, because I was on a mission, I was on a roll. I was teaching. “Hey,” I whispered again, and even my voice was smiling. “Hey, you.” I was teaching it about everything I knew, everything I could. I taught it about leaves and trees; I taught it about the flow of a gentle stream because I was too chicken-shit to get it close to a roaring river; I even taught it about sand, sucking up my pride and taking it to the beach so that it could maybe feel sand through the brilliance of its shell. I mean—I dunno man. I dunno what I was even trying to—if the little creature even knew what was going on, if it could feel the softness of a leaf, the gentleness of water, the shittiness of sand, the refreshing cool of a wild summer storm washing you, drenching you from head to hoof. “Hey, hey you.” The egg just sat there in the mud, and the lightning crashed around us, and my heart was swelling with stuff that I couldn’t even follow. I’m not sure, I’m not sure how this little, beautiful thing of an egg could be so—could do this—could affect me like this. Like, I… …I mean… …I guess the only thing you could call it was falling in love. And it’s not like—okay, I should really shut up now, because I’m incriminating myself—but it’s not like I haven’t felt this feeling before, right? It’s just—it’s never choked me like this. It’s never pushed me to go to the beach and feel the awful sand on my knees, just to teach. It’s never propelled me to into the middle of a wild summer storm and practically drown myself, to splash myself with mud when there was a shelter not 30 paces away, just to show something in an egg the beauty of— CRACK!! I help my breath. K—KC-KCCRACK!! The lightning lanced overhead and I watched the shell shatter. And I fell in love again with what I saw. When I saw…you. You were…smaller than I expected. Like, the egg was small already, nothing more than rock-sized, really. And when you came out, you just…kinda…slithered passed the crack that had formed in the beauty of the shell, not really ruining it, but enhancing it in a way. Oh boy, but you were so confused though, and so was I, because I wasn’t understanding how I was feeling your confusion racing through me, your newness, your— --but then you looked at me— --and the thunder was crashing above us— --and the rain was pouring fucking buckets— --and the lightning danced across black clouds, angry and excited and vicious— --and you— --you were so happy. You were just this tiny little shit with a bright blue tail and I swear lizard things aren't supposed to smile but I—shit man, if lizards could smile, you were definitely doing it. And I didn’t realize I had actually fallen to my side, that I was covered in mud completely now, that I had done all this just so I could look at you closer, so my eyes could widen and I could try to get closer to you, the thing rising in my chest so large and powerful and painfuland beautiful that it couldn’t possibly belong to me. How could something so little hold so much happiness? Just to be alive? “Hey,” I said, and I don’t even know if you could hear me, my voice was so tiny and quiet, “Hey, you.” You crawled out of the shell fully and made your way to my face—and you climbed my nose and I was feeling you and you were so fucking tiny holy hell and I— --I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, or ever, or since. And I said something to you and I don’t remember what and you’re a little asshat and you’ll never, ever tell me what I said, what I named you. But that’s okay, because I don’t think I could ever stop loving like this even if I wanted to. (I named you Zchiraxicon. The lightning spoke for me. Once.) [Hatching thread for Chico!] |
