Bleeding Light

In the arch of her back,
At the corner of his mind,
With all the things they have lost
and dare not hope to find
lies one last chance at redemption
flickering slowly out of sight
But he resolutely faces the other way,
while she stands, blinded by the light.

It was so much brighter once,
before her eyes grew used to this dark
whilst he nourished the flame as long as he could,
until the constant vigilance left its mark
And now he stands, unmoved, decided,
even as she begs him to reconsider
As the flame of all that once was lies dying,
promising to leave them both embittered.

Why won’t he listen? Why won’t he save it?
Girl, wipe those questions of grief off your face
What you weep for is long long gone
nor will this once raging fire leave a trace.
Except that scar, around your heart,
where the wire cut you deepest
There is no shame in falling down,
when the height you chose was the steepest.

I know you won’t stop wishing for miracles,
nor stop needing the way he breathes
I wish I could show you the truth,
because, in the end, everyone leaves.
But you know that, my dearest girl,
Isn’t that why you bleed yourself to sleep?
Ah, you’ll miss the pain when the numbness starts,
Remember not to go too deep.

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~ Mono no Aware ~

Something about this picture is just *too* precious.

World Class

World Class

It’s like all these years, the determined Prince marched on into war after war, watching his once proud army bleed and fall; saving them from utter defeat so often, but always moving further and further away from the dream and realm of victory..

Until the Empire sent forth its finest general, a horrific injury keeping him off the battlefield, but his mind as sharp as ever. The Empire thought it was just getting rid of a non-soldier in armor; transferring him to a war-front that was almost certainly lost.

But… from the moment the Prince and the General first met, they recognized something in one another that they both desperately needed; a relentless hunger for victory.

The General, he devised strategies for harder battles, filled up gaps in the army that prevented them from defeating smaller/weaker opponents, came up with tactics for every situation, and pushed every single soldier towards the best that he could be.

The Prince, for the first time in too long, flanked on all sides by an army finally worthy of him, led forth his young charges into battle after battle. And, inspired by his steely eyed determination, battle after battle, they emerged victorious.

Together, the Prince and the General, they reined in the younger boys, transforming their anger and frustration into an indomitable spirit of conquest. And, soon, the news spread like wildfire.

The Reds were on the March.

And they were Invincible.

And so, these two, surrounded at last by the fine young soldiers that they themselves had created, marched on towards their common goal. For the first time in too long, both for the General as for the Prince, Victory awaited.

[So, this hug. After a difficult battle.
“Thank you.. for winning that.”, said the General to his Prince.
The Prince shook his fair head and smiled nobly in return, “No.. Thank you.”
..
And not so far away, a lonely Victory shivered beautifully in her tower of glass, even as the men who had abducted her all these years ago stood ready for the final onslaught.
“My Steven and Brendan will come”, she whispered. And even though the men holding her captive laughed and mocked her, you could hear the fear in their voices.

Because they too had heard of the men in that army. The unstoppable Suraez. The faster than lightening Sterling. The always on target Sturridge. The mage-like Coutinho. The frightening Skrtel. And a whole bunch of other soldiers who only got stronger and better and faster with every day.

An army of red, led by two determined men.

Victory was rightfully theirs.]

In Love and War

“Get the fuck out of my fucking house.”

She shrunk away from him, turning away so he wouldn’t see the tears filling up her eyes. She needn’t have bothered, as a moment later, the door had slammed loud behind him, and his angry footsteps faded away from where she knelt. Her stifled cries turned to sobs, but only for a minute. Had she not cried enough for this? Had these stone floors not drunk enough of her tears?

She limped to the door, and bolted it from the inside. She was safe now, at least until he decided to return. She had to be gone before that, she thought dully. Gone somewhere far. Where he couldn’t find her.

The mob stormed the village, screaming obscenities and firing indiscriminately as they came. The villagers ran about in panic, many getting slaughtered in their futile attempts to protect their families and children. Shops and houses were set on fire, and the people seeking shelter inside were hunted down and killed as they ran from the burning buildings. An infant wailed endlessly somewhere in the distance. A dark haired boy darted across the burning streets, two younger children in tow, making his way towards the college at the center of their once-quiet settlement. The college of Magic. Abruptly the wailing infant fell silent, and the three children shuddered to think of what that meant.

A loud crash brought forth a strangled sob from her throat. Until she realized it was only their cat. It made its way over and licked her bruised knuckles. “Hey, kitty cat”, she whispered, stroking its soft fur. The cat purred and rubbed against her, and she thought of how they had first found the kitten. Alone and lost in the middle of a fierce thunderstorm, it had taken shelter under his car, meowing piteously until they had found her. At first, he had insisted that they leave it outside in a box, and she had managed to convince him to let it spend the remainder of the stormy night in a corner of his house. The next day she had come home from work to find him fast asleep on the sofa, with the kitten curled up on his chest, also asleep. They had been nearly inseparable since.

She shook her head, as if trying to clear it, and rose up to put out some food for the cat. That’s when she saw the flowers he must have brought home that morning, and her heart ached. Everything was so confusing. How did things get to this? When did they stop laughing at shadows and chasing falling stars?

The boy managed to reach the college grounds undetected, and pulled his young charges inside the gate. Here he stopped to catch his breath, and the two children looked about themselves in awe. Civilians were generally not allowed inside the campus of the infamous college of magic. Though the Council maintained that it was for their own safety, rumor had it that some of the students and teachers at the college dabbled in.. more than just the white arts.

“Alistair, take Nova to Professor Edward. He should be at the top of the North Tower. If anyone stops you, show them this.” Saying so, the older boy pushed a small rock into the younger boy’s hands, even as the young girl looked on, startled. “Nova,” he started, and she backed away from him. “That’s not my name”, she whispered, her eyes locked on to the parchment he held in his hand. “Listen to me, Nova”, he said, louder than he had intended. And now it was Alistair’s turn to watch as she backed further away from the older boy. “We’re not going in without you”, she said, looking past him and into the fires scattered just outside the gates. The older boy looked upset, and bowed his head. But when he looked up again, he was smiling. That made Nova begin to cry, and that made Alistair want to cry as well. But he held on to the rock in his hand tighter instead, and grit his teeth to help fight back the unwelcome tears. “I’ll be alright, Princess”, the dark haired boy assured her, and taking two steps forward, he suddenly knelt in front of her. “Please take the scroll”, he said, head bowed and hand outstretched. Nova hesitated, then reached out and plucked the parchment from his fingers. He looked up and smiled, and asked her to dry her eyes.