Fuck yeah, I thought reverently to myself as the cloud I stood on floated calmly and magisterially down to earth. Before me everything was placed like a map; I was so high up that something like vertigo could have, should have, instantly gripped me and caused something like panic, but instead I felt this….lurch like if I jumped from that cloud, mid-way between heaven and earth—well, something told me I could carry myself on air, that I could hang from it somehow, floating and gliding and sliding on the thermals. Like I had wings or some shit. But that’s dumb so I stopped thinking about it, and the cloud floated down and it was awesome, and when I landed my hooves skirted blue flames and holy lava, a sacred place with no room for my un…sacred thoughts. ….fuck yeah.

It was like….something about that place up high was a bubble of great a shield against the world and all the shit it comes with, which it inevitably does. I touched the ground and I was still happy, but that happiness was partitioned now in my head, making room for the other stuff I had briefly, wonderfully forgotten; the confusion, the anguish, the task my Pa had set me—which caused even more anguish and confusion. And I don’t know why, but even though I hoped that my Bro had followed me down here, the anguish in me wanted him to have flown away, far away from me, and I don’t know why, but if I were him, I wouldn’t have thought to trust me.

“….Mesec?” I called, turning. And amazingly, somehow it was that moment in my life, my entire life of fuck-ups and consequences, that I realized I don’t know how to talk to people. I opened my mouth and kind of stopped—and something in the back of my head noticed the running theme. Shit, I thought. How do you even investigate motherfuckers? I can’t just say, “’Ey man, you’re Ma’s up to some bad juju and my Pa needs me to snoop around so I need you to spill some.” And I was thinking about that and some more stuff kind of bubbled up in my head, thoughts like this…poisonous kind of jealousy etching in the back of my eyes that I hated to have, but I had nonetheless. Bro had a Ma that wasn’t my Ma, a Ma he had known since the day he was born. A Ma he could tell me about.

But I still didn’t know what to say and, come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. “So…um…” I said, smooth as all get-out and obviously not awkward in the slightest. “How….how are you?” Because there was a plague and some darkness and some disappearances poppin’ around since the last time I saw him, so I guessed that was the most appropriate thing to start with.


( @[Mesec]--I hope you don't mind me posting this! This was the thread we talked about sometime before! :) )




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