hallelujah
I found
jesus when
i drowned
I found
jesus when
i drowned
She hadn’t wanted to come here at all: it reminded her too much of him, of them. It stank of all the times she had raced along the cliff’s edge with Asterion or watched Cirrus turn cartwheels in the sky; even when she closed her eyes and pictured it, nothing close to the real thing, it made her ribs hurt. Her heart still smarted like an open cut. The salt from the wind off the ocean would not do anything, she was nearly sure, but tear at what little scab had begun to form.
But today she’d woken up before the sky was even blue. and started moving toward the sea before she could even think about it. Felt the tides tugging like a fist at the hook in her chest. It was as hardy and divine as an omen, with a refusal to be disobeyed, and not an uncommon thing for Marisol to wake up to nowadays. At this point the urge was often unignorable, no matter how early or late it was, how much she should have been doing: there was little to be done about it except listen and return home as quickly as possible, gods willing without missing anything.
Overhead the sky is turning pink, orange, purple as the sun crawls up, and despite herself Mari wants to smile as she watches. It is beautiful. And to be here, watching, is a bittersweet thing. I wish you were here, she thinks briefly, and falters in step as she moves closer to the sea. The air is bright and sharp with salt now, burning the insides of her nostrils, and clouds are falling away as the horizon glows brighter and brighter until the sky is clear and no stars are left.
Now that it’s light out she can see the shadow of someone standing against the backlit sea, and she does not even have the energy to be disappointed that she is not alone.
“Good morning,” calls the Commander, and slows to a relaxed walk. She is equal parts surprised and relieved to see, as she comes closer, that the figure is Rhone: they don’t know each other well, but truly, he is the only member of Terrastella with a level head at the moment. They are all too young, too manic, and more than anything too distraught. Without a firm hand and a soft voice they will never make it through this. And Rhone has both those things in spades.
“Speaking.”
But today she’d woken up before the sky was even blue. and started moving toward the sea before she could even think about it. Felt the tides tugging like a fist at the hook in her chest. It was as hardy and divine as an omen, with a refusal to be disobeyed, and not an uncommon thing for Marisol to wake up to nowadays. At this point the urge was often unignorable, no matter how early or late it was, how much she should have been doing: there was little to be done about it except listen and return home as quickly as possible, gods willing without missing anything.
Overhead the sky is turning pink, orange, purple as the sun crawls up, and despite herself Mari wants to smile as she watches. It is beautiful. And to be here, watching, is a bittersweet thing. I wish you were here, she thinks briefly, and falters in step as she moves closer to the sea. The air is bright and sharp with salt now, burning the insides of her nostrils, and clouds are falling away as the horizon glows brighter and brighter until the sky is clear and no stars are left.
Now that it’s light out she can see the shadow of someone standing against the backlit sea, and she does not even have the energy to be disappointed that she is not alone.
“Good morning,” calls the Commander, and slows to a relaxed walk. She is equal parts surprised and relieved to see, as she comes closer, that the figure is Rhone: they don’t know each other well, but truly, he is the only member of Terrastella with a level head at the moment. They are all too young, too manic, and more than anything too distraught. Without a firm hand and a soft voice they will never make it through this. And Rhone has both those things in spades.
![[Image: ddg6quy-9d15dab5-339c-4b09-8b57-20a99fda...jvUop12efQ]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/c175b84a-409b-40aa-8b86-49ed65b989ee/ddg6quy-9d15dab5-339c-4b09-8b57-20a99fda550e.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcL2MxNzViODRhLTQwOWItNDBhYS04Yjg2LTQ5ZWQ2NWI5ODllZVwvZGRnNnF1eS05ZDE1ZGFiNS0zMzljLTRiMDktOGI1Ny0yMGE5OWZkYTU1MGUucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.j-t9RuUsmMyaVL-O1rvZqbyyPYdOvtjHLjvUop12efQ)
