Entry tags:
Shrike's Heart (#4)
It's not quite a happy smile.
"I'm sorry," she says. "There's just nothing I can do, as things are. But the way is there; it just needs to be lit."
You open your mouth—maybe to say something, or to express confusion—but you have to cough, and taste something metallic, spattering black blood onto the ground in front of you. Then you realize—blood seeps from opening wounds in your arms, your chest, your stomach, your face. It rims your eyes and trails from your nose and you feel like you're dissolving—
—and you fall through the ground like it's the surface of a lake, and go down, down, down.
> Wake Up

Re: THE BATTLEFIELD
[ another pause, and she reaches behind her shoulder to grab a lock of her hair: sure enough, as white as Shrike or Persephone's ]
.....Ah. I suppose I should have expected.
Re: THE BATTLEFIELD
Did my hair change colour too?
[Ha ha, no. But his eyes ARE red now!!]
exalted characters just talk like this.
[ a touch amused ] As white as ever.
...But your eyes have taken on the shade of spilled blood.
why...
Re: why...
Alright, so I am still not a poet. But the battlefield is on my mind—for understandable reasons.
...The point is: I think we are like her, here. Not just retracing her footsteps.
Re: why...
...Doing what she wished she could've done, maybe.
Re: why...
If this teaches her that she is not helpless in the face of such cruelty, then I will be glad of it.
Re: why...
[His jaw tightens, but - nothing to be done about it now. Heart logic. Who could say for sure.]
Re: why...
Act as you believe is just, and do not submit to hopelessness.
These qualities are in her already, when she seeks them.
Re: why...
Right... okay.