because i could not
stop for death
stop for death
T
he flowers are beautiful. He had never seen their like before; and Ipomoea had seen a lot of flowers. These are special, beautiful and cold and utterly magical. As he walks amongst them the wind sets them t dancing, and as they dance -
- they sing.
They’re gemstones come to life, sprouting from the earth with petals of every color imaginable. Their music enchants him, draws him deeper into their midst, and as he does they bend on long, thin stalks to touch him as he passes.
Oh, how each touch thrills and terrifies him. His blood is rushing, his heart beating faster and faster, leaping wildly against the cages of his ribs. He makes no effort to calm it, preferring to let it run away inside of him. His blood is singing to the tune the flowers make, and each touch is them pressing a word into his mind for his blood to speak in turn.
They’re only flowers, he thinks to himself in wonder. They shouldn’t act this way.
But they do - oh, they rage and laugh and dance and sing and cry alongside his own tired soul, and as they do, they tell him of the tragedies that have taken place here, the blood that’s been shed on the steppe. It’s why they’re here after all - a testament to violence, a living memory of the lives that lost a game they had no right to play. A silver queen, a golden crow. A piebald child, an orphan running wild through the streets, a highborn girl burned by flame…
Their faces are bright in his mind, his magic seeping out into the field, the flowers pressing hungrily into him. They’re swallowing me whole, he has time to think, before he goes willingly down into their arms. The ground is cold against his skin, and overhead, the sky begins to shed soft, frozen tears upon the world.
And Ipomoea lays among the god-touched flowers, as dreams turn to nightmares and nightmares turn to dreams.
@Ipomoea "speaks" notes
***STAFF EDIT
@ipomoea has rolled a 5! He has been awarded +1 EXP point for interacting with the flowers.
