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05-29-2015, 12:03 AM
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Gull
“…I want to stay here.” As soon as it’s out of your mouth, the declaration surprises even you. Abruptly you fall silent, wondering: why on earth would you want to stay in this upside-down world? You have no ties here; you’re free to come and go as you please. Isn’t this the life you wanted? While you second-guess yourself, the silence between you and the god stretches thin, and you shift your weight, uncomfortable. Does he think you’re lying? Thus far, he has been carefully neutral, but you cannot ignore the flames that he can obviously manipulate, and you’d prefer that Gull Flambé isn’t on the menu tonight. But no, the more you think about it, you realize that you’re telling the truth. You do want to stay here, powers or no. You won’t let the horned bastards push you out, even if there comes a time that you have to fight to stay. If there’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn, and the thought of your life here as an act of defiance appeals immensely to you. You’ll look danger in the face and spit in its big, stupid, metaphorical eye. No boneheaded Blade Head’s going to keep you from your chance at starting over! Yeah! Taken with yourself, you puff your chest, snorting subconsciously at all of your imagined acts of rebellion. Just as you’re really starting to feel yourself though, the god interrupts your thoughts with a hypothetical situation of his own. You haven’t bored him completely, he tells you, but how will you use these supposed powers? There is a note of solemnity in his voice as he poses his question: “If you receive this gift, and you find yourself and a lover in a…complicated situation, who would be the one you saved with your newfound ability…and why?” If he intends to hit home, it works, for the question brings you back to earth with the familiar pang of loss. You know who you’d save—how many times have you replayed Her death in your head, wished you could have given Her your strength? And how long did you search for Muriel after the explosion? Perhaps a lover is not the same as a mother, but your loyalty runs the same. You may have failed them both, but the memories haunt you every night. Though the god may have exposed a more tender side of your heart, the laugh that escapes your lips is short and bitter. You may know who you’d try to save, but given your track record, you think you know how well that would go. But it doesn’t matter. You know better now than to take a lover, and so the situation will remain as the god has framed it: purely hypothetical. “I’d save this so-called lover of mine,” you reply, voice clipped for fear of it breaking. If someone could love you, she’d be worth it. You’ll never verbalize the thought, but if the god chooses to look into your mind, he’ll see. A flash of four pink wings and the whisper of Muriel’s voice are stamped into your memory. “Too bad that it’s too late for that.” "talk talk talk" |
Please do not tag Gull except for in opening posts or spars!
