What Happens After the Sunset // VT {Alex}
May 14, 2018 12:37:49 GMT -5
Post by Arrows on May 14, 2018 12:37:49 GMT -5
Hands holding the small shape of a three year old girl stutter and shake. Warm winds winding through colorful crops bring no stop to the constant cold. Dull dead eyes look away from the hole, away from the abyss a child cascades down into. Failure fully fills the victor's shoes as like a shadow covered in familiar darkness he leaves the always growing graveyard. He ignores the ghost greeting him with a somber stare on his way from the hell he has allowed. Alone the weight of his own thoughts are strong enough to sink him further into sorrow without the assistance of Nat Krigel's presence.
In the heart of his home, hands relinquish Sonja to her Mother before silent steps take the black body of Kirito to the space of his own room. At the sill of a window cold continues to creep across Kirito's skin, continues to send swift shaking through his body. A palm painted in pain and bathed in blood presses against a pane. Water wells in the eyes of the sole survivor of the end of time, but tears do not dare to trace tracks down his cheeks. His heart heaves at the cruel contemplation of what happened to the boy who once breathed hope into the brutally broken with hands of healing. Now all that remains in a man trying to teach children to outrun death with a losing record.
Black becomes a suit of silver as the hands of a pocket watch given by the Wards strikes a new hour. You look nice. Words from another false face. Kirito pauses as his heart holds, but then breaks free from the barriers of his brain. Only several seconds of her red hair stain his sight before his body barges out the door of his room. Once upon a time he would have been enslaved by his emotions and the phantom faces which follow them. Now, he's learned to live with the ghosts and their growing numbers.
Basking beneath a shining sun the stage swelters as sweat sits heavily holding its place on Kirito's forehead. Standing before the saddened stares of a disappointed district, Kirito's eyes eliminate the giant images of the two he's most recently failed glowing before him. In several short sentences he welcomes to the stage the girl now new to the sacred circle of suffering. He welcomes a girl who like Katelyn conquered the cold and left an arena of wicked winter with her body still warm from a beating heart. He welcomes her to the life of being the one with a heart which must beat for twenty three others.
Respectful claps follow her figure off stage as Kirito's thoughts go to the district from which she came. She's the first to win from her district in over two decades. She's become the newest victor in a line of ghosts from District Twelve. Kirito wonders how the once bitterly broken Arbor has handled actually bringing back another alive. Kirito wonders if the man once cracked to his core by the number of his losses has healed even slightly by her survival.
Following the reception Kirito loses track of the newest victor. It isn't until later he discovers her returning from somewhere with Harbinger. From a distance the cold of her arena seems to stiffen Kirito's skin. Memories of Katelyn seem all too fresh within the features of Stella's face and victory. But the presence of such pain does not push Kirito away, it draws him to her side with a face and voice of understanding.
"Care to join me for a short walk?"
In the heart of his home, hands relinquish Sonja to her Mother before silent steps take the black body of Kirito to the space of his own room. At the sill of a window cold continues to creep across Kirito's skin, continues to send swift shaking through his body. A palm painted in pain and bathed in blood presses against a pane. Water wells in the eyes of the sole survivor of the end of time, but tears do not dare to trace tracks down his cheeks. His heart heaves at the cruel contemplation of what happened to the boy who once breathed hope into the brutally broken with hands of healing. Now all that remains in a man trying to teach children to outrun death with a losing record.
Black becomes a suit of silver as the hands of a pocket watch given by the Wards strikes a new hour. You look nice. Words from another false face. Kirito pauses as his heart holds, but then breaks free from the barriers of his brain. Only several seconds of her red hair stain his sight before his body barges out the door of his room. Once upon a time he would have been enslaved by his emotions and the phantom faces which follow them. Now, he's learned to live with the ghosts and their growing numbers.
Basking beneath a shining sun the stage swelters as sweat sits heavily holding its place on Kirito's forehead. Standing before the saddened stares of a disappointed district, Kirito's eyes eliminate the giant images of the two he's most recently failed glowing before him. In several short sentences he welcomes to the stage the girl now new to the sacred circle of suffering. He welcomes a girl who like Katelyn conquered the cold and left an arena of wicked winter with her body still warm from a beating heart. He welcomes her to the life of being the one with a heart which must beat for twenty three others.
Respectful claps follow her figure off stage as Kirito's thoughts go to the district from which she came. She's the first to win from her district in over two decades. She's become the newest victor in a line of ghosts from District Twelve. Kirito wonders how the once bitterly broken Arbor has handled actually bringing back another alive. Kirito wonders if the man once cracked to his core by the number of his losses has healed even slightly by her survival.
Following the reception Kirito loses track of the newest victor. It isn't until later he discovers her returning from somewhere with Harbinger. From a distance the cold of her arena seems to stiffen Kirito's skin. Memories of Katelyn seem all too fresh within the features of Stella's face and victory. But the presence of such pain does not push Kirito away, it draws him to her side with a face and voice of understanding.
"Care to join me for a short walk?"
