snow angels — parson. & angel. [blitz]

gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
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snow angels — parson. & angel. [blitz] Jan 26, 2019 10:22:46 GMT -5

Post by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Jan 26, 2019 10:22:46 GMT -5

The past is a maelstrom of memories that ensnares me within its vortex, a cabinet of horrors that would open in my sleep and dance across brittle dreams — disguised as phantoms.

The past is in utter jumbles as a jigsaw puzzle that was nowhere near completion would be. Those hours felt like decades and those seven days felt like eons. The afterimages came in sepia fragments, like the muddled footage of a worn cassette.

All I can remember, is Parson,
and a spear through his throat.

Even after the several months that’d laboriously staggered past, it still haunts me. Even though Parson Cham sits ahead of me, cross-legged on the soft ivory snow and ineptly handcrafting snow creatures, I can still see his hollow eyes – lightless. Death does not come and leave; it remains like an accursed relic, sunken and sleeping at the bottom of a cold lake.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask him with the ghost of a smile across chapped lips.

“You should wear gloves in this weather, Cham, especially if you planned to spend the whole week making …” Head tilts as eyes make an attempt at deciphering his creation. “Little snow devils. That one,” I point at a crooked one with what seems like horns protruding from its ice skull. “Encapsulates our late Game-maker, Glamour.”

Last Edit: Jan 26, 2019 10:25:27 GMT -5 by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.

堕落天使

d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel
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call me jaded

snow angels — parson. & angel. [blitz] Jan 26, 2019 17:05:45 GMT -5

Post by d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel on Jan 26, 2019 17:05:45 GMT -5

Frozen fingers during a time that I wish would freeze. A scarce opportunity to be in the company of another, the foreign land of District Eight, the place that bonds us together. Never will we lawfully see each other’s homeland, but I guess we are wanderers in love. Only connecting with each other in a spare moment that can so easily slip us by.

The months that have dragged by have been haunting. The predicted unwelcome home by my father but I was quick on shutting the door in his face as bed was offered in Teddy’s victor house. He really is the most unlikely caretaker in this strange time, the one to swallow my nightmares and outbursts of mental loss. Death would have been a better symptom than the aftermath that I carry.

But Angel, my warmth during this cold climate that is unlikely to thaw for a long time but at least I have some comfort.

My hand cups my mouth as I cough into it, my chest has been feeling heavy for a long time, but I guess winter has its perks and the fact Angel has pointed out my lack of layers, I am really no help to my health.

”Pretty cold but I guess the worst has been done. I have survived death so I can survive a common cold.” I let slip the chuckle from my lips as I roll a ball of snow across the ground in front of me. A creation of undesirables, Angel christens one Glamour and I form a fist crushing the snow figure beneath it.

”And that is the form he deserves to be…”

A fit of coughs over powers me as both hands take hold of my mouth. Wheezing escapes from my lungs and I have really lost control. Maybe I have the flu. Oh I just need a drink. I let it pass for a moment and I eventually take control of my breath. ”I think…I guess the air here is bad, all those dirty factories.”

gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.
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snow angels — parson. & angel. [blitz] Jan 28, 2019 7:08:42 GMT -5

Post by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Jan 28, 2019 7:08:42 GMT -5

Nature is merciless. We cannot run away from the floods, or escape the savage bite of cold, or evade the imminent thunder. It sees the world in gray-scale, black and white, never fearing to destroy. As I watch the bottom of Parson's lips quiver and the pillar of his throat tremble as bouts of coughs erupt, a small fear blossoms in the chest: dormant enough to ignore yet pressing enough to be noticed.

Has Parson Cham's death awakened from its slumber? Has it began to shake its nets of seaweed and dislodged itself from the lake's bed?

Perhaps, it's the paranoia speaking, or a sharp instinct buried in the depths of my skull, but I try not to shiver with dread as I move in to hold his shoulders. Even though the woolen gloves on my hands aren't discarded, the cold from his skin is felt.

“Parson, death can come from both a spear and a cold.” Legs bend down to where Parson sat, so that our heights and frost-kissed eyelashes level other. It was strange to be taller than Parson Cham, even if it lasted for some short moments.

“I'd die if I ever lost you.” I decide not to mention how that would be my second death, and how I'd lost him once already.

Keeping Parson Cham alive in the arena was like cupping a handful of water. No matter how tightly-kept my fingers were together, he would always cascade away. Deciding not to ponder on that notion even further too, I take his bare hands and lace them with my own, gloved ones. “Come on, let's go back to our warehouse. I'll make you hot waffles there.”

Last Edit: Jan 28, 2019 7:10:56 GMT -5 by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ.

堕落天使

d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel
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call me jaded

snow angels — parson. & angel. [blitz] Feb 7, 2019 15:39:15 GMT -5

Post by d7m fraser birk ♚ frankel on Feb 7, 2019 15:39:15 GMT -5

Tainted by a foreign territory, be it in the Capitol or District Eight, I have been ruined by others. Familiar lands have kept me ticking by all these years and one step away has me crumbling. Lungs filled with cold air, attacking every system in my body. An infection ready to shut down every vital organ in its tracks or it is just a simple common virus, caught in a net that was intended for gold.

Damn nasty shit this is. Every day since the re-awakening there has been a little ache and pain somewhere, a reminder of how broken I really am. The so-called revision of my life, this isn’t who I was before.

A frozen core thawed by the company of another, our gazes are held for a moment as Angel takes a hold of my shivering hands with his own protected mittens. A train ride is going to separate us in just a few short days, who will be my guardian then?’

”I’d stay away, I might be contagious” There is really no relief from the rattle in my throat. Another burst of vibrations up my neck and I catch the cough in a fist as I push myself up onto my feet. ”But yes, I can’t say no to waffles.”

I take a moment to refrain myself, hitching a leash onto the control of my own body, one last cough as a good riddance to the nuisance virus. My hand remains locked to the Angel’s, surrendering to his lead. This is where I belong now, reborn to be at his side.