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10-07-2015, 08:25 AM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
"I don't want to be fearsome anymore," he said, lipping at the branch, teasing the blue into his mouth. It tasted dry and tart and sour all at the same time, but he forgot all about that—he forgot all about everything as he glanced up from beneath white lashes. She was.. well, damn, she just was, draped in moon-gray and celestial scars, her eyes full of starlight and fucking infinity.
She seemed softer, somehow, like the knives in her gaze had gone dull, or been hidden away again—like.. like she'd taken her armor off. Like she'd let go of something, something she had clutched so hard to her breast she probably hadn't even known of it, like a weight being lifted after so many years that it simply felt like soaring—
Like he had felt, standing before the Council and finally admitting his mistakes.
He had lived with that guilt and shame so long he had not known how hard it had been to bear, and yet he was stupid enough to keep bearing it because he didn't know anything else. Habit was a powerful and damning thing.
What clung so closely to her? Which shadows veiled her eyes, and gave the stars in them such razor sharp edges? And yet her breath was soft in the fog, just a deepening of the white, proof of her mortality—just like the gentle curve of her back wasproof of her sin shut the fuck up.
There were no sins here and would be no sinning.
His heart had turned to ice for a moment, a deep and dark plunge through the planes of his mind, but—but there was something there, something in his veins (—something in his mouth), something soft and slow and lazy and something so resistant he felt numb for a lot longer than he thought was necessary.
Probably a good thing, because the celestial being peering down at him said “Maybe - if you throw a coin in me I will fulfill your wish.” and the only thing he could think was what in all seven hells did you just say?.
And the infinity of stars kept looking at him.
The violet of her eyes studded with burning crystals, so smooth now, smooth like the slow warmth moving through his veins with each sluggish beat of his heart. “But it would seem you have found a good beginning to a fairy tale,” and still he wondered what it had to do with him being fearsome. Was she talking about redemption? Of how the tarnished Knight in his blackened armor had to go on an epic crusade to cleanse his name, and scour the blood and scars from his sword?
Maybe he wasn't doing enough. Maybe he wasn't good enough to shake off his villainous past, to clear his name for good and break free from the black-iron shackles keeping him in the dark—
Her halo was dripping light, like tears or sweat or falling stars, gilt droplets falling into—nothing. His eyes widened, and the halo shimmered in the focus of his gaze—wobbled, bled, moved, glowing brighter and brighter as it came closer, each exhalation forcing the fog—the shadow—up and brightening its light with a backwards kind of logic that made perfect sense to the warped tunnels of his mind.
That which used to be straight, and crystalline, was crooked, blurred, like frosted glass, but somehow that made perfect sense too.
Just like the violet hold of stars he fell into when his gaze slipped down again—a rushing void in which to hide his soul, breathing into her like he had never done anything else—like his soul had never been anywhere else but slipping into her lungs like spider-silk and starlight—
"If you would not be fearsome, what would you be instead?”
What was it that you let go of, earlier? What was it that blunted the edges in your eyes? It was still there, in the way she looked, the way she spoke, the way her eyes glittered like something so far out of his reach, but—but suddenly she had become .. reachable. The pale muzzle pressed against his dark one was warm, plush, soft and solid, her breath the sweetest thing. It swam in his veins with the slow blue monster, and the stars.
"Yours?" he mumbled dumbly, unaware of the word slowly rolling off his tongue to become food for the fog.
[ @Maren <3 ]
She seemed softer, somehow, like the knives in her gaze had gone dull, or been hidden away again—like.. like she'd taken her armor off. Like she'd let go of something, something she had clutched so hard to her breast she probably hadn't even known of it, like a weight being lifted after so many years that it simply felt like soaring—
Like he had felt, standing before the Council and finally admitting his mistakes.
He had lived with that guilt and shame so long he had not known how hard it had been to bear, and yet he was stupid enough to keep bearing it because he didn't know anything else. Habit was a powerful and damning thing.
What clung so closely to her? Which shadows veiled her eyes, and gave the stars in them such razor sharp edges? And yet her breath was soft in the fog, just a deepening of the white, proof of her mortality—just like the gentle curve of her back was
There were no sins here and would be no sinning.
His heart had turned to ice for a moment, a deep and dark plunge through the planes of his mind, but—but there was something there, something in his veins (—something in his mouth), something soft and slow and lazy and something so resistant he felt numb for a lot longer than he thought was necessary.
Probably a good thing, because the celestial being peering down at him said “Maybe - if you throw a coin in me I will fulfill your wish.” and the only thing he could think was what in all seven hells did you just say?.
And the infinity of stars kept looking at him.
The violet of her eyes studded with burning crystals, so smooth now, smooth like the slow warmth moving through his veins with each sluggish beat of his heart. “But it would seem you have found a good beginning to a fairy tale,” and still he wondered what it had to do with him being fearsome. Was she talking about redemption? Of how the tarnished Knight in his blackened armor had to go on an epic crusade to cleanse his name, and scour the blood and scars from his sword?
Maybe he wasn't doing enough. Maybe he wasn't good enough to shake off his villainous past, to clear his name for good and break free from the black-iron shackles keeping him in the dark—
Her halo was dripping light, like tears or sweat or falling stars, gilt droplets falling into—nothing. His eyes widened, and the halo shimmered in the focus of his gaze—wobbled, bled, moved, glowing brighter and brighter as it came closer, each exhalation forcing the fog—the shadow—up and brightening its light with a backwards kind of logic that made perfect sense to the warped tunnels of his mind.
That which used to be straight, and crystalline, was crooked, blurred, like frosted glass, but somehow that made perfect sense too.
Just like the violet hold of stars he fell into when his gaze slipped down again—a rushing void in which to hide his soul, breathing into her like he had never done anything else—like his soul had never been anywhere else but slipping into her lungs like spider-silk and starlight—
"If you would not be fearsome, what would you be instead?”
What was it that you let go of, earlier? What was it that blunted the edges in your eyes? It was still there, in the way she looked, the way she spoke, the way her eyes glittered like something so far out of his reach, but—but suddenly she had become .. reachable. The pale muzzle pressed against his dark one was warm, plush, soft and solid, her breath the sweetest thing. It swam in his veins with the slow blue monster, and the stars.
"Yours?" he mumbled dumbly, unaware of the word slowly rolling off his tongue to become food for the fog.
[ @Maren <3 ]
man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
