on the precipice of a broken world — the roadhogs. [day 2]
Mar 11, 2022 18:36:17 GMT -5
Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Mar 11, 2022 18:36:17 GMT -5
Fatima’s iron titan bursts through the other side of the wall and ..
Everything crumbles.
He is scaling the wall when it breaks. And if it isn’t for a quick help from his instincts by making the machine scramble up, the fall would have — Rafael peers down from the edge — reduced him to a thousand pieces.
“Good job,” his tone sounds gritty on the comms. Perhaps it’s the distance, or perhaps it’s the near death experience, he isn’t exactly sure.
No, of course it was the fact that he almost died.
If it had been a second earlier, a minute ahead, it is with absolute certainty that Rafael would have joined the bent and broken ranks of the wall, a snake crushed under an earthen heel. And perhaps it’s karma, a twist of fate for his own treachery, but he’d rather believe in fairytales than something as a silly as fate. That doesn’t exist. He looks down at Fatima from the zenith. Not unless you make it yourself.
It’s a dangerous game he’s playing against dangerous opponents. If it isn’t for seventeen years of lessons under Esmeralda, he doesn’t know if he would have had it in him. But the snake den … that’s a cold place for a child to have grown up in. It changes you, twists you, corrupts you. Snakes have no heart, only venom and ambition. A mother’s love isn’t what Esmeralda bestowed him with.
But ambition?
A way of surviving bad odds?
His sweet mother taught him plenty about that.
Everything crumbles.
He is scaling the wall when it breaks. And if it isn’t for a quick help from his instincts by making the machine scramble up, the fall would have — Rafael peers down from the edge — reduced him to a thousand pieces.
“Good job,” his tone sounds gritty on the comms. Perhaps it’s the distance, or perhaps it’s the near death experience, he isn’t exactly sure.
No, of course it was the fact that he almost died.
If it had been a second earlier, a minute ahead, it is with absolute certainty that Rafael would have joined the bent and broken ranks of the wall, a snake crushed under an earthen heel. And perhaps it’s karma, a twist of fate for his own treachery, but he’d rather believe in fairytales than something as a silly as fate. That doesn’t exist. He looks down at Fatima from the zenith. Not unless you make it yourself.
It’s a dangerous game he’s playing against dangerous opponents. If it isn’t for seventeen years of lessons under Esmeralda, he doesn’t know if he would have had it in him. But the snake den … that’s a cold place for a child to have grown up in. It changes you, twists you, corrupts you. Snakes have no heart, only venom and ambition. A mother’s love isn’t what Esmeralda bestowed him with.
But ambition?
A way of surviving bad odds?
His sweet mother taught him plenty about that.
