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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Private  - under the skin, against the skull [fire]

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Played by Offline Syndicate [PM] Posts: 48 — Threads: 7
Signos: 10
Inactive Character
#2

we will make you think hurricanes are gentle, that pain is a gift. you will get lost in the desperation, in the longing for something that is always reaching but never able to hold

I notice him because he looks like I feel.

Overwhelmed; as if every chaotic nuance of the event is something he is experiencing for the first time. I watch, at a distance, because I do not know what to say if I were to speak. He has four wings where I have only two, but he is younger, I think. Sometimes, the bodies of other patrons limit my view: I find my world is obscured by disjointed, fire-cast shadows; by the limbs of adults, gargantuan in the setting; even by the sound of conversation and the breaking down of fires.

I can smell only smoke and clean, spring air. I already miss winter. I already miss the snow—

But I am not here for snow. In fact, I don’t know if I should be here at all. I am sure mother is worried—and I hate to worry her, I do, but the walls of Terrastella have felt too oppressive, too—

I feel like a bird that cannot fly. And so I came to the fires; I flew long and hard and fast until the festival opened up beneath me and I felt like a small god. Tonight, I am pretending to be anyone but myself; tonight, I am pretending to be the wild girls I met or Leonidas on the cliffside. Someone other, someone who—

Someone who can start a conversation without nervousness getting the best of them. I weave my way through the crowd in pursuit of him; the closer I get, the more I recognize the uncertainty, the anxiety; the more I recognize his energy above the energy of the crowd, a chaotic and dark thing. I want to ask, do you know, I feel what you feel?

Not on an empathetic level. But one more primordial. On the level of his soul, of his energy—it is cackling and black and escaping his body. I hear, phosphorus makes blue-green, calcium makes orange, sodium… 


“Sodium?” I ask, softly, from just a bit behind him. “What does sodium make?”

I have no idea what he is talking about, but for some reason that doesn’t seem to matter. 

I breathe in, and out; and do what I can to not let the energy effect me. Gatherings are the worst. Gatherings, no matter how much I meditate or prepare, make me feel just—

Well, just a little unhinged. It does not feel so severe, however, when I am regarding someone else’s struggle. 

"Speech." || @Ambrose 

CREDITS|| Avis






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RE: under the skin, against the skull [fire] - by Aeneas - 10-25-2020, 08:59 PM
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