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i am the vanguard of your destruction
And that was that—a cascade of sparks, a fortress tumbling down, glaciers crashing into the sea to send up a spray of water as the secrets tumbled into the deep (—like blood soaking into sand).
His vision was split into darkness and her (but she was dark, too, looming above him like a warped memory of something—), and for some reason, his mind whispered 'sunshine'. But there was no sunshine, just a morning too early to be bright, and a seeping sense of heartache—as if the roots deep below him fell apart and with them, the world. Black rot at the heart of everything.
And her eyes—
He frowned as they seemed to spit sparks in his vision, pulsing drunkenly to the throb of his heartbeat. Her eyes had always been weird, sort of.. inverted, in a way that wasn't normal. Brown around the edges, spark-blue in the middle; as if she needed a sign hanging around her neck saying 'my pedigree is more impressive than yours'.
She didn't need anything. She was (Roskuld) lightning and fury and a sort of fumbling, bashful love, and it didn't matter how unique her body was. Her father was an asshole anyway. She was so much more than him.
A highly biased opinion coming from someone half-unconscious on the forest floor, but hey. Spark had had his chances and thrown them all away—
His freewheeling mind was brought up short against the solid walls of her voice, his far-flying psyche fetched back by the tangibility of a question: of words forming a cage for his mind to scuttle about. “What happened? What’s wrong?” And, in a somewhat absurd fashion, his mouth opened and began to shape the words: "I'm fine."
Except—he wasn't.
Everything he had ever tried to be had landed him here: fallen by her feet, spitting out the same old lie. I'm fine. I'm perfect. I can do anything. I am the machine you want. I am the heartless killer. I am the pinnacle of evolution.
(I am the vanguard of your destruction.)
A broken, smoking ruins, concrete pillars blasted apart and the stumbling mess of his bloodied heart suspended between them, pulsating like a creature dying.
"I'm not fine," he was saying instead, voice dribbling out between his dark lips as his neck struggled to lift his heavy head. He was barely aware of himself; the furthest reaches of his body were dim, lost in the fog somewhere. Wild-eyed, he stared at her. "I keep saying but it's never true, I've never been fine—" What the hell am I even talking about..?
[ Well fuck you tag, @Roskuld || Uh I have no idea what I'm doing, k. ]
His vision was split into darkness and her (but she was dark, too, looming above him like a warped memory of something—), and for some reason, his mind whispered 'sunshine'. But there was no sunshine, just a morning too early to be bright, and a seeping sense of heartache—as if the roots deep below him fell apart and with them, the world. Black rot at the heart of everything.
And her eyes—
He frowned as they seemed to spit sparks in his vision, pulsing drunkenly to the throb of his heartbeat. Her eyes had always been weird, sort of.. inverted, in a way that wasn't normal. Brown around the edges, spark-blue in the middle; as if she needed a sign hanging around her neck saying 'my pedigree is more impressive than yours'.
She didn't need anything. She was (
A highly biased opinion coming from someone half-unconscious on the forest floor, but hey. Spark had had his chances and thrown them all away—
His freewheeling mind was brought up short against the solid walls of her voice, his far-flying psyche fetched back by the tangibility of a question: of words forming a cage for his mind to scuttle about. “What happened? What’s wrong?” And, in a somewhat absurd fashion, his mouth opened and began to shape the words: "I'm fine."
Except—he wasn't.
Everything he had ever tried to be had landed him here: fallen by her feet, spitting out the same old lie. I'm fine. I'm perfect. I can do anything. I am the machine you want. I am the heartless killer. I am the pinnacle of evolution.
(I am the vanguard of your destruction.)
A broken, smoking ruins, concrete pillars blasted apart and the stumbling mess of his bloodied heart suspended between them, pulsating like a creature dying.
"I'm not fine," he was saying instead, voice dribbling out between his dark lips as his neck struggled to lift his heavy head. He was barely aware of himself; the furthest reaches of his body were dim, lost in the fog somewhere. Wild-eyed, he stared at her. "I keep saying but it's never true, I've never been fine—" What the hell am I even talking about..?
[ Well fuck you tag, @Roskuld || Uh I have no idea what I'm doing, k. ]
