[just prompts] saved
Jul. 27th, 2009 06:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magic_fratboyNOTE: Takes place early this morning. As always, Zee is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
zee_ali and is used with much love & some permission. ;p
The shell in the bed is a ghost, pale papery skin against black sheets, head pillowed on red. He breathes, he sleeps, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even stir to let his body find a more comfortable position, so the muscles tense and bunch over two days until the shell isn’t much more than a wooden board. Warm hands come now and again to move him, ease the knotted muscles to softness again, but the tension’s never far.
Inside the shell, a man is fighting for his life.
The healing sleep is covering a war for human souls, fought not with weapons and blood but pure energy. Light dawns, darkness snuffs it out. A diamond glitters and it turns instantly to coal. It’s Hell on earth, but the light of the flames isn’t quite enough to make the dim the smell of sulfur and brimstone. The cycle has his chest rising and falling, leaves him running for his life until he’s buried so far in himself he’s not sure he can ever fight his way back out.
Surrender.
Never.
* * * * * * * * * *
The warm body at the shell’s side doesn’t move as sheets rustle, as a breeze creeps through the room…cold, harsh. She shivers, never waking.
* * * * * * * * * *
There are flashes, from time to time, cool winds that soothe his soot-streaked cheeks, stars that shine in a black and empty sky. He follows them from time to time, inching his way back towards the road leading to the world. When the hands come to massage stiff muscles, the heat turns cool and he can see. When there are sounds in his ears, hands joined by tiny fingers and words of love, constellations become visible, showing him the way.
Give up.
Make me.
I think I already have.
* * * * * * * * * *
In the hallway, the breeze stirs the hair on Prometheus’s head. In his place, blocking the path to the nursery, he rouses abruptly and stands, lips curled back from his teeth in a low snarl.
A shadow passes over him as his eyes flare amber in the dark.
* * * * * * * * * *
It’s so dark, but he’s getting closer. Somehow, he knows it’s dark both inside and out. He can see where he’s at now, a rough dirt path with the faintest tint of dawn on the horizon. Storm clouds hover at his back, trying to overtake him. He’s running at top speed, hoping to make a break for that distant line dusted with rose and gold…the horizon is unreachable in the real world, but here it’s the line between where he is and where he needs to be.
This is the price you pay for their lives.
I don’t believe that.
It doesn’t matter what you believe.
No…it matters what they believe.
The horizon draws closer without moving. Rose fades to gold and grey, the flames have long since died. Early morning is cold, unforgiving. Still, it has its blessings in the ability to move and see. It held the promise of healing warmth and new beginnings just within reach.
Believe…
Through the flames, he reached for the sun. When he drew them back, he held tightly to a perfect ray of rosy morning light.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Tommy? Tommy…”
The room was cool and dark. The light was warm in his arms…rosy in a soft, fleecy pair of pink footy pajamas with grasping hands that found his cheeks, patting gently with a soft coo of concern.
Awareness came back to him slowly as he held onto the ray of light…the infant he held against his chest, while another radiant beam leaned into him. Energy was pouring from her body to his, feeding him…awakening him.
“Come on, baby…that’s it…believe, come on…”
Blinking slowly, the shell licked its lips and stared at the nearby window, watching the sun rise before them.
“Tata?” Mayilia asked, patting his cheek again.
It took all his strength to find enough coherence to kiss her forehead, eyes riveted to the window.
“Come to bed, Tommy.” Ziyah whispered.
“Can I bring her?”
Finally facing her, he found tears of relief and sorrow streaming from her eyes as she nodded.
“Yes, you can. I think it’d all do us some good.”
Nodding, the shell just remembering his name to be Tommy Karras allowed himself to be led back to the bedroom, his daughter clutched tight in his arms.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 733
zee_ali and is used with much love & some permission. ;pThe shell in the bed is a ghost, pale papery skin against black sheets, head pillowed on red. He breathes, he sleeps, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even stir to let his body find a more comfortable position, so the muscles tense and bunch over two days until the shell isn’t much more than a wooden board. Warm hands come now and again to move him, ease the knotted muscles to softness again, but the tension’s never far.
Inside the shell, a man is fighting for his life.
The healing sleep is covering a war for human souls, fought not with weapons and blood but pure energy. Light dawns, darkness snuffs it out. A diamond glitters and it turns instantly to coal. It’s Hell on earth, but the light of the flames isn’t quite enough to make the dim the smell of sulfur and brimstone. The cycle has his chest rising and falling, leaves him running for his life until he’s buried so far in himself he’s not sure he can ever fight his way back out.
Surrender.
Never.
The warm body at the shell’s side doesn’t move as sheets rustle, as a breeze creeps through the room…cold, harsh. She shivers, never waking.
There are flashes, from time to time, cool winds that soothe his soot-streaked cheeks, stars that shine in a black and empty sky. He follows them from time to time, inching his way back towards the road leading to the world. When the hands come to massage stiff muscles, the heat turns cool and he can see. When there are sounds in his ears, hands joined by tiny fingers and words of love, constellations become visible, showing him the way.
Give up.
Make me.
I think I already have.
In the hallway, the breeze stirs the hair on Prometheus’s head. In his place, blocking the path to the nursery, he rouses abruptly and stands, lips curled back from his teeth in a low snarl.
A shadow passes over him as his eyes flare amber in the dark.
It’s so dark, but he’s getting closer. Somehow, he knows it’s dark both inside and out. He can see where he’s at now, a rough dirt path with the faintest tint of dawn on the horizon. Storm clouds hover at his back, trying to overtake him. He’s running at top speed, hoping to make a break for that distant line dusted with rose and gold…the horizon is unreachable in the real world, but here it’s the line between where he is and where he needs to be.
This is the price you pay for their lives.
I don’t believe that.
It doesn’t matter what you believe.
No…it matters what they believe.
The horizon draws closer without moving. Rose fades to gold and grey, the flames have long since died. Early morning is cold, unforgiving. Still, it has its blessings in the ability to move and see. It held the promise of healing warmth and new beginnings just within reach.
Believe…
Through the flames, he reached for the sun. When he drew them back, he held tightly to a perfect ray of rosy morning light.
“Tommy? Tommy…”
The room was cool and dark. The light was warm in his arms…rosy in a soft, fleecy pair of pink footy pajamas with grasping hands that found his cheeks, patting gently with a soft coo of concern.
Awareness came back to him slowly as he held onto the ray of light…the infant he held against his chest, while another radiant beam leaned into him. Energy was pouring from her body to his, feeding him…awakening him.
“Come on, baby…that’s it…believe, come on…”
Blinking slowly, the shell licked its lips and stared at the nearby window, watching the sun rise before them.
“Tata?” Mayilia asked, patting his cheek again.
It took all his strength to find enough coherence to kiss her forehead, eyes riveted to the window.
“Come to bed, Tommy.” Ziyah whispered.
“Can I bring her?”
Finally facing her, he found tears of relief and sorrow streaming from her eyes as she nodded.
“Yes, you can. I think it’d all do us some good.”
Nodding, the shell just remembering his name to be Tommy Karras allowed himself to be led back to the bedroom, his daughter clutched tight in his arms.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 733
