the flowers' serenade {Perennials / Day 4}
Mar 21, 2019 17:36:41 GMT -5
Post by Arrows on Mar 21, 2019 17:36:41 GMT -5
I didn't mean to make you cry,if I'm not back again this time tomorrow,carry on, carry on,
as if nothing really matters
His body is fire and his soul smoke.
Red paints a picture of tragedy over his canvas of skin. Tears tint the youth of his innocence dripping silently through the scarlet storm. His hands shudder within the shackles of pain as his breaths break in subtle sobs. While two now travel down Hades' river, he seems to be seated next on a shadowy dock. A dangerous demon runs its claws across his fragmented frame.
He is aided by Rory onto the back of his horse.
The sun decays and their silhouettes become the only faint figures against a radiant sky. Its not long before stalks of life provide cover and Severus slips from the saddle of his horse. The ground provides a punishing embrace at his weakness while hands of kindness spare him. Even while the warmth of Rory shines with the spirit of his sister, Severus is cold. A kind of sadness settles over his thoughts, invades his heart.
Severus remembers his dreams. They seem so foreign now, something lost in the unraveling sense of existence in this arena. In his mind he can recall the sketches that line his bedroom walls and the guitar that sits warped by his bedside. He can still feel the softest fluttering of hope inside of them, but their light is dying in the darkness. Like fireflies one after another, they are disappearing into the shadows. He retreats from these thoughts back into the numbness he found earlier in the fight.
Sleep comes with succumbing to the cries of his injuries.
Morning emerges with misery in its mists. Soreness lines the scars of Severus' skin as coldness lines the exterior of his core. If the sun wasn't sitting centered in sky, Severus could have sworn his breath was frosted. Alas heat stirs sweat into the pits of his arms, another wonderful aspect of this new life. He can't remember another day where he woke up with such a downtrodden mentality. He tries to find solace in his sketches, new faces are required to remember the newest phantoms.
Nearby Raven is awake lost in the reveries of her mind, as she so often is. He staggers as he slowly steps towards the girl with hair matching the color of the night. His unstable small stature sits with a slight grunt of discomfort by her side. His fingers find the next open page of his journal.
"Who all was in the sky last night?"
It's easier to ask then which ones have died.
Her stare doesn't even slip from the wavering stalks of vegetation.
"Six more. The boy from Four, the boy Eight, the girl from Nine, the girl from Ten, and both from Eleven."
He can only remember the two that have been branded for eternity into his mind, his hands still wrapped in a sheath of their dried blood.
"Can you describe them to me one at a time?"
Her eyes flutter for a moment to his hands before resettling their gaze onward. She does as he asks, describes as he draws. Eight pages now are filled with fallen faces. Her voice is chilling but sarcastic.
"That's a bit dark for someone your age isn't it?"
He spies a trace of smirk on her face. His nerves calm.
"What isn't dark in this place?"
He's serious but his voice is filled with humor. She laughs with him.
"Fair enough."
The morning ride from camp is short, the sound of steps and voices draws them from their horses. What Severus sees brings uncertainty to his spine but gives way to his hands finding the figure of something familiar, a tuned guitar. A soft shimmer of innocence returns to his smile. Before strumming the game makers' gift Severus finds Ronan, his small hand reaching out.
"I think I'll take that smoke now."
Ronan, drunk already, hands over the toxic stick of addiction and fire lights its end. Severus' skin shifts with nervousness before rebellion inhales the poison. His body immediately rejects the unnatural offering in a fit of couching. A segment of Severus' somberness returns as he stares at the guitar.
"I think it was wrong to have dreams," Severus confesses before a second flurry of coughing, "I just need to learn to live without them."
He takes a final breath before giving up on the forced attempt. His hand, still shaking from the day before, gives Ronan the rest smoldering cigarette.
"Better to not let it go to waste."
Away from the eyes of enemies and the fright of tomorrow Severus' fingers dance over strings, a smooth song filling the space around him. He wonders if this will be the last time he hears music as his voice joins in with the melody.
"Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words, find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the train wreck..."Little high, little low,
anyway the wind blows,
doesn't really matter,
to me, to me
Lyrics -- Train Wreck by James Arthur and Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
Sev picks up a guitar and plays/sings
Also fills his water at some point!
Also fills his water at some point!