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07-16-2014, 02:23 AM
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I'm dead in the water, still looking for ya'
Delusions. Delicate disasters and darkening distances. Degraded minds couldn't deal with the images that dashed across their visions. He declares that she is the angel and her drowsy eyes droop just a little, a meek smile upon her lips. "I have no wings, darling," she murmurs - her breathing slowly speeding up from the heat which doused her frame - each of her cells desperate for the oxygen that was slowly depleting from the dry air. A delusional mind could not work well… Consistency. The calming nature of the paws as she caressed her hair and coaxed it into a braid. However, consciousness takes in the care with which Cera lifted his wing to cover her and hide her weakening frame from the heat that came with the setting sun. He speaks of honour and of happiness, and it clears away the concern which may have been flicking through her soul. "I am glad," she whispers, voice dropping lower as she shifts to topics of pain and tears begin to fall. "I could never ask you to do that…" her voice cracks in a painful way and she curls up tighter, pausing before she speaks for a moment to answer the rest of his questions. Yet the consistent swish of Ilaira's tail is more than a comfort. Flipped. He flips the future that flutters before her eyes. And then, he says that she is not alone. Figments of ideas flicker through her skull. Fragments of broken times when she had called out and no one had come to her fractured body. False professions of love. Nothing had been fair and she'd learned to accept it. Quiet whispers of thoughts sound even frailer than she feels. "I don't think that's physically possible." And thoughts flipped back to her. Sickness. Sharp breaths now as the sweat seemed to stop. There was no reprieve from the heat yet, and so her sweat glands were beginning to shut down once more. She hears the sound of the clip as it snaps into place and then the sweet sound of his voice as he starts to panic. Her muscles tremble at the simple thought of her body becoming encased in the liquid. Her eyes squeeze shut as she takes in a few more gulps of air and then allows her voice to slide out once more, "I don't wanna drown… please…" It's a broken plea, from the years of raging waters and the uncertainty of her movements when inside the liquid. Too many times she had been pulled down and carried away - too many times she'd accidentally slipped and barely been able to get back up. She didn't trust the water again - she wasn't sure she could. And, as she lay there, body trembling ferociously, she knew that she needed to get into it. She couldn't let the sickness take her again. |
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Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say
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Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say
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