A s t a
'cause i thought i saw your soul
My gaze is narrowed as I watch those around me.
I hate how I always seem to be watching. My eyes pausing on faces of the past. It hurts you know.
Hurts to see them now. When they may catch my eye. Smile politely before walking on by, like I was a stranger, like one of my lives wasn't wrapped around theirs so title it pulled at my very core to see them.
I forgot this was why I avoided crowds. Memories of the past could come tackling in so hard that I suffocate under the weight of what once had been. What once was. What will never be again. I'm suddenly yearning for my sister's touch, her reassurance, only to remember Runa won't recognize me, she won't see me and know me and be able o soothe these thoughts. Like the others, Runa won't remember. Not yet, not now, not with out her soulmate here to unlock those flowing memories from her core, lives that they've chased each other through.
A seed of resentment grows in my belly at that thought, but I never let it blossom. I can't. I might feel jealous at times that the two have each other, but Runa's happiness is more precious and important than mine. Perhaps that's the real reason I remember when no one else does - to help others achieve lifetimes of happiness, even at the cost of my own. Sounds better than being cursed, doesn't it? I can't deny the jealousy, but I will mold it for Runa's benefit. I'm used to being alone anyway . . . I've been around for a long time in one form or another.
I have gotten oddly used to being alone.
So I don't stop watching. It's how I notice the figure that swipes the item, a small treat swept up so quickly it could have just been a figment of my imagination, if I didn't recognize the sleight of hand used to achieve the theft. A long time ago, I'd had others train me in similar manners. Swipe the wayward pieces, steal bits at a time, one item here, one item there - never a lot of the same thing. Makes it harder to notice something is gone. Especially in far older times. Times when bandanas covered my body and the sea salt tainted my scent from living in a port town, bridging the world between pirating and a street rat. Far more wild and free than I am allowed to be today.
Then I realize this being is now watching me.
He approaches and I note the way he is cautious of my horn. Good, be cautious. Especially since he would approach me when I was so foul, The problem is I both love and hate them. I respond with a snort, my eyes narrowing in annoyance at the happy crowds around us, trying to obscure pain with other emotions that would cover it well. Too many faces I recognize who will never recognize me. Loud, overcrowded. I cut my gaze back to him, And then there's the thieves stealing from stalls. I add, tone light, non-accusatory even as I stare at him with out falter. Yes, I had seen that little move of his, but I wouldn't call him out on it at least. Then he seemed to pause, frown, and at his next question I'm blinking in surprise.
I wasn't expecting it.
I laugh before I could catch myself, almost doubling over, I try not to stab others when I can. I'm fairly certain my adopted father would build a tower just to lock me into it if he heard I was out there doing things like that. I don't mention the fact that I'd still probably find ways to get out. I wonder how hard it would be to scale down the side of a tower. Would he be smart enough to put bars on those windows? Or hope the height would keep me inside? Sure, I'll take half. I reply, merely to see if he was sincere in the offer than out of real want for the treat, Name's Asta by the way. Asta Stendahl. Before I finally sigh, And I'm trying not to be too sour . . . I just wasn't prepared for . . . well . . . all of this. My gaze returns to the area around us, sweeping the stalls, and my heart clenches again as familiar faces walk past me with out even seeing me. Faces I once treasured and loved.
Strangers in a new life.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@All. Everyone Welcome. Come on in.
Notes:: So uhm, anyone can come in, I beg you, interact with girly girl here, yeah?
I hate how I always seem to be watching. My eyes pausing on faces of the past. It hurts you know.
Hurts to see them now. When they may catch my eye. Smile politely before walking on by, like I was a stranger, like one of my lives wasn't wrapped around theirs so title it pulled at my very core to see them.
I forgot this was why I avoided crowds. Memories of the past could come tackling in so hard that I suffocate under the weight of what once had been. What once was. What will never be again. I'm suddenly yearning for my sister's touch, her reassurance, only to remember Runa won't recognize me, she won't see me and know me and be able o soothe these thoughts. Like the others, Runa won't remember. Not yet, not now, not with out her soulmate here to unlock those flowing memories from her core, lives that they've chased each other through.
A seed of resentment grows in my belly at that thought, but I never let it blossom. I can't. I might feel jealous at times that the two have each other, but Runa's happiness is more precious and important than mine. Perhaps that's the real reason I remember when no one else does - to help others achieve lifetimes of happiness, even at the cost of my own. Sounds better than being cursed, doesn't it? I can't deny the jealousy, but I will mold it for Runa's benefit. I'm used to being alone anyway . . . I've been around for a long time in one form or another.
I have gotten oddly used to being alone.
So I don't stop watching. It's how I notice the figure that swipes the item, a small treat swept up so quickly it could have just been a figment of my imagination, if I didn't recognize the sleight of hand used to achieve the theft. A long time ago, I'd had others train me in similar manners. Swipe the wayward pieces, steal bits at a time, one item here, one item there - never a lot of the same thing. Makes it harder to notice something is gone. Especially in far older times. Times when bandanas covered my body and the sea salt tainted my scent from living in a port town, bridging the world between pirating and a street rat. Far more wild and free than I am allowed to be today.
Then I realize this being is now watching me.
He approaches and I note the way he is cautious of my horn. Good, be cautious. Especially since he would approach me when I was so foul, The problem is I both love and hate them. I respond with a snort, my eyes narrowing in annoyance at the happy crowds around us, trying to obscure pain with other emotions that would cover it well. Too many faces I recognize who will never recognize me. Loud, overcrowded. I cut my gaze back to him, And then there's the thieves stealing from stalls. I add, tone light, non-accusatory even as I stare at him with out falter. Yes, I had seen that little move of his, but I wouldn't call him out on it at least. Then he seemed to pause, frown, and at his next question I'm blinking in surprise.
I wasn't expecting it.
I laugh before I could catch myself, almost doubling over, I try not to stab others when I can. I'm fairly certain my adopted father would build a tower just to lock me into it if he heard I was out there doing things like that. I don't mention the fact that I'd still probably find ways to get out. I wonder how hard it would be to scale down the side of a tower. Would he be smart enough to put bars on those windows? Or hope the height would keep me inside? Sure, I'll take half. I reply, merely to see if he was sincere in the offer than out of real want for the treat, Name's Asta by the way. Asta Stendahl. Before I finally sigh, And I'm trying not to be too sour . . . I just wasn't prepared for . . . well . . . all of this. My gaze returns to the area around us, sweeping the stalls, and my heart clenches again as familiar faces walk past me with out even seeing me. Faces I once treasured and loved.
Strangers in a new life.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@All. Everyone Welcome. Come on in.
Notes:: So uhm, anyone can come in, I beg you, interact with girly girl here, yeah?
shades of jade and emerald
