07-24-2018, 04:56 PM
Vera feels like it's something she shouldn't be seeing. Subconsciously, she wonders if she shouldn't have followed the music in the first place, should've instead grabbed hold of her curiosity before it got the best of her - it's a momentary loss of control that shouldn't have happened in the first place, if she'd just held on tightly enough and wrapped its unspooling threads around her fingers until her skin bled, maybe... maybe she wouldn't be in this predicament. She should've listened to her subconscious telling her not to put her nose in things where it doesn't belong, but she's grown careless, easy, letting more and more of the leash slip between her grasp until she can barely keep it hooked around her finger anymore. She should've listened to herself, she should've listened to herself, but instead she listens to the music.
She listens to the music and it has brought her to Hazel and Alex, to a u - a u - she doesn't remember what it's called, only that it starts with a u. She listens to casual, soft conversation thrown between voices, hidden from sight behind a corner - far too awkward, far too shy to know how to make her approach so instead she does what she's best at, shuts up and listens instead, sliding down the wall to pull her knees to her chest. She can't make out their words from how far away she is, only the rise and dip of their voices, but it's enough to lull her into something of a peaceful trance. The sound of people has always calmed her whenever they don't acknowledge her. The sense of longing that it brings has the unique effect of making her want to sleep through it all.
Her head begins to fall, chin pressing an indent into her pale arm, brown hair framing her face and clocking out most of the light filtering in through - through somewhere, Vera can't be bothered to look. There's shifting, scuffling, footsteps drawing closer; she breathes in the sounds, lets them echo within her hollowness until they are rebounding against her glass walls, over and over again to fill her with something a little more than crystal shards. It's a peculiar feeling but a familiar one nonetheless, reminds her of nights curled up against her door - mother outside talking, talking, talking, she doesn't understand the words she's saying because she'd been told that those are for 'adults' and that she is not allowed to know so she falls asleep instead waiting for her to come back inside.
The footsteps stop; Vera had been counting, whoever it is never reached the inside of the bunker. Curiosity is pulling at her again, harder, stronger, yanking at her until she's tilting her head up just in time to see her brother walking away. For a second, she wonders if she's hallucinating - she's been thinking, worrying about him lately - and she blinks her eyes blearily until she can see the last of his retreating back in the distance. He almost looks like he's being swallowed up by light. "Bast?" It's useless to try and use her words, useless to try and call to him, he's much too far and she's much too late.
She pushes herself to her feet unsteadily, tugging at the long, haphazard scrap of cloth she's taken to using as a coat to stare absently at the direction where he disappeared. He's gone, just like that, and Vera doesn't know where he went or even where to start looking for him. As much as she wishes otherwise, she doesn't know her brother like she should, largely because of fate's hand in separating their journeys from birth - only to reunite them when they have already grown apart. She wishes she could say she knows exactly where he is, that he'll be okay, that he'll be safe... but she can't, she can't say that and she doesn't know that and she doesn't know her brother as well as she should. She doesn't know his anguish, his conflict. Only his name.
"Bast..." Her voice tapers away into confusion, then defeat, the hand she didn't know she'd even raised falling again. A shiver, a tremble, and then she realizes she'd wandered from her hidden spot. She turns just enough to see Hazel and Alexander inside the bunker, doesn't know if they see her. She doesn't know what to do, only that she's at a loss, and that she doesn't feel like sleeping anymore.
She listens to the music and it has brought her to Hazel and Alex, to a u - a u - she doesn't remember what it's called, only that it starts with a u. She listens to casual, soft conversation thrown between voices, hidden from sight behind a corner - far too awkward, far too shy to know how to make her approach so instead she does what she's best at, shuts up and listens instead, sliding down the wall to pull her knees to her chest. She can't make out their words from how far away she is, only the rise and dip of their voices, but it's enough to lull her into something of a peaceful trance. The sound of people has always calmed her whenever they don't acknowledge her. The sense of longing that it brings has the unique effect of making her want to sleep through it all.
Her head begins to fall, chin pressing an indent into her pale arm, brown hair framing her face and clocking out most of the light filtering in through - through somewhere, Vera can't be bothered to look. There's shifting, scuffling, footsteps drawing closer; she breathes in the sounds, lets them echo within her hollowness until they are rebounding against her glass walls, over and over again to fill her with something a little more than crystal shards. It's a peculiar feeling but a familiar one nonetheless, reminds her of nights curled up against her door - mother outside talking, talking, talking, she doesn't understand the words she's saying because she'd been told that those are for 'adults' and that she is not allowed to know so she falls asleep instead waiting for her to come back inside.
The footsteps stop; Vera had been counting, whoever it is never reached the inside of the bunker. Curiosity is pulling at her again, harder, stronger, yanking at her until she's tilting her head up just in time to see her brother walking away. For a second, she wonders if she's hallucinating - she's been thinking, worrying about him lately - and she blinks her eyes blearily until she can see the last of his retreating back in the distance. He almost looks like he's being swallowed up by light. "Bast?" It's useless to try and use her words, useless to try and call to him, he's much too far and she's much too late.
She pushes herself to her feet unsteadily, tugging at the long, haphazard scrap of cloth she's taken to using as a coat to stare absently at the direction where he disappeared. He's gone, just like that, and Vera doesn't know where he went or even where to start looking for him. As much as she wishes otherwise, she doesn't know her brother like she should, largely because of fate's hand in separating their journeys from birth - only to reunite them when they have already grown apart. She wishes she could say she knows exactly where he is, that he'll be okay, that he'll be safe... but she can't, she can't say that and she doesn't know that and she doesn't know her brother as well as she should. She doesn't know his anguish, his conflict. Only his name.
"Bast..." Her voice tapers away into confusion, then defeat, the hand she didn't know she'd even raised falling again. A shiver, a tremble, and then she realizes she'd wandered from her hidden spot. She turns just enough to see Hazel and Alexander inside the bunker, doesn't know if they see her. She doesn't know what to do, only that she's at a loss, and that she doesn't feel like sleeping anymore.