scarlet blue [star squad day 3]
Jul 28, 2017 19:58:05 GMT -5
Post by kousei ♚ on Jul 28, 2017 19:58:05 GMT -5
R | F |
I need a sign or a signal
I've overthought everything I can think of
Into symbol
I need the coat and your jacket
And the remnants of your cigarette packet
{ ★ }
I've overthought everything I can think of
Into symbol
I need the coat and your jacket
And the remnants of your cigarette packet
{ ★ }
I scream when salted blue fury rushes up to meet me, any sense of cohesion felt in the split second between the startling ring of the gunshot and the non cyclical tearing of vocab chords at the sense of panic that arises when one step takes me from gunshots, anchor chains and careers who take is lost. A split second is all that's needed for my glance to catch the light flicker from his eyes in an instant when mystery boy was thrown from the boat with nothing but his anchor in his hands and death buried in his skull.
I become him.
Blue tendrils grip my clothing and the thrashing spurred on by a frantic sense of panic is blinding, free hand holding my spear deathly tight yet every flinch and twitch of muscle are only calls for help silenced by a mix of panic flooding my veins and adrenaline accelerating my heart to exponential velocities.
He's there; the flicker in mystery boys eyes between my spear sinking into his stomach and the bullet in the center of his skull.
I just want to breathe before I drown.
Yet any semblance of composure is quickly shattered by the sound of a second bullet hole and and the familiar sound of skeleton shattering drowning my thrashing in the water. This isn't factory fumes mixing with cigarette smoke to cloak me in a smokescreen so that not even I can distinguish the outline of my figure from the euphoria of delusion. This is sea salt and grey clouds, clouding my vision and sea blue tendrils gripping my neck and tugging at my clothes.
"Clem! Ember-"
(-ly)
I'm cut off by the way they tighten yet they don't pull me further down into the deep they way mystery boy's body sunk like he was nothing but dead weight, pulled to the deep by the weight of his double-edged sword that couldn't even protect him from death before he could find his footing. In the back of my mind it's clear that had it not been for gifts from wealth I'd taken for granted for the past three days I would've sunk like him with nothing but a gurgle to be my lasting impression on the earth.
('Relax.')
I repeat the sentiment in the back of my head until the incomplete sentences and thrashing comes to a slow and gradual stop, panic in the presence of the polarized fading with each passing repetition -- calming down becomes a cyclic process.
Movement automatic, I claw myself forwards towards the boat and grip the ladder --
BANG!
(Cannon fire)
Repetition, repetition, repetition -- I drag myself up the cannon.
('Relax.')
I pull myself up, neck craning to the side to find the fleeing forms of Hero and Lux and ears twitching to the sobs of Emberly and the water dripping from every point on my body; from the tip of my spear to my overhanging hair. I twirl on my heels to the sobbing, Emberly crouched over Clem's crumpled figure. Truth be told, I don't hold hope in my heart that she'll rise from her ashes with any semblance of a phoenix, I haven't held the power smoke and color in days.
My hands curl into fists as they shake; I (could have would have) should have done more.
The grey clouds looming become more prominent -- this isn't factory smoke.
"Emberly we need to-" and I cut myself off, desperation dying on the tip of my tongue at the way her chest caves in and trickles of warm crimson dance on the corner of her lip.
Eight and blood trails; I should've done more for the person who preserved my cyclic heartbeat.
"I- I-" but the words escape the tip of my tongue, I resist the urge to crumple to the ground and hope leave myself open for despair. Our pyramid of supplies, my uneven heartbeat, our unit -- she was meant to be the foundations for everything we built together. The ability to weather any coming storm and make sure we would survive the end of summer even with only bleeding hearts sewn on our sleeves.
And when the foundation crumbles, how will the structure survive to the end of summer?
"Emberly we need to fucking go!"
The storm only seems to grow closer with every passing heartbeat Emberly Lowe fails to revive.
{ ★ }
I wanna go
So what'd you say
When you gonna let me know
If you give a damn about me
I wanna go
So what'd you say
When you gonna let me know
If you give a damn about me