08-11-2018, 10:29 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]Five years.
Time was nothing more than a speck to them, each year passing by scarcely slower than a minute. Thousands of years had passed by in terms of the mortal realm when they had started to exist as a sentient, physical being. Millions had passed in their intangible state. Five years was nothing, had been nothing to them for the longest of times...
They never expected five years to go by so painstakingly slow, each second passing like molasses as they searched and searched and searched for something they had lost the hope they would ever find. Time was nothing to them, never had been and most likely never again would be... but during those five years it had been everything. Each second was counted, each day marked down as another that they could not find Bo in. They had been in the hospital for one year, searching for the remaining four, and although their better judgement told them that Bubs was surely dead... they couldn't believe it. They wouldn't believe it.
So for years they continued, dropping their spot as one of the most feared Yakuza leaders across the nation to make way for a never ending search. They had taken on many odd jobs, their amassed fortune keeping them alive... and eventually, one day, all of their time had amounted into something worthwhile. A hint. A subtle whisper of the former mafia boss still living, existing among others almost like a cryptid, there but unseen unless he wished to be. It had been enough for them. It had been more than enough, and before they had even considered the idea that it was a trap they were on the run once more, trying to find that which they had lost.
The world was no merciful place, however. It had been a trap, no matter how much truth there was to it, and it had taken all the strength that they had to kill those who had come after them. They were not the same as they had been once, their strength all but gone due to days spent unable to take care of themselves while thinking of nothing but Bo.
But he had arrived. He had been there, had managed to find them... and this time, he could do something to save them.
If someone found them fast enough. Lirim knew the taste and smell and sensation of death; they had felt it once before, and this was nothing new to them. But they had lost the will to cry, to try and do anything more than allow themselves to be dragged along, just vaguely able to register their husband's frantic cries for help. Their eyes were already closing, the blood slowing down to a trickle not because it was clogging but because they had little of it left to spare.
They could do nothing but strain upwards, hoping that, if they were to die, that at least they could give Bo one last kiss. But the energy to do so wasn't there, and all they managed to do was lose more blood as they struggled to lean upwards.
Time was nothing more than a speck to them, each year passing by scarcely slower than a minute. Thousands of years had passed by in terms of the mortal realm when they had started to exist as a sentient, physical being. Millions had passed in their intangible state. Five years was nothing, had been nothing to them for the longest of times...
They never expected five years to go by so painstakingly slow, each second passing like molasses as they searched and searched and searched for something they had lost the hope they would ever find. Time was nothing to them, never had been and most likely never again would be... but during those five years it had been everything. Each second was counted, each day marked down as another that they could not find Bo in. They had been in the hospital for one year, searching for the remaining four, and although their better judgement told them that Bubs was surely dead... they couldn't believe it. They wouldn't believe it.
So for years they continued, dropping their spot as one of the most feared Yakuza leaders across the nation to make way for a never ending search. They had taken on many odd jobs, their amassed fortune keeping them alive... and eventually, one day, all of their time had amounted into something worthwhile. A hint. A subtle whisper of the former mafia boss still living, existing among others almost like a cryptid, there but unseen unless he wished to be. It had been enough for them. It had been more than enough, and before they had even considered the idea that it was a trap they were on the run once more, trying to find that which they had lost.
The world was no merciful place, however. It had been a trap, no matter how much truth there was to it, and it had taken all the strength that they had to kill those who had come after them. They were not the same as they had been once, their strength all but gone due to days spent unable to take care of themselves while thinking of nothing but Bo.
But he had arrived. He had been there, had managed to find them... and this time, he could do something to save them.
If someone found them fast enough. Lirim knew the taste and smell and sensation of death; they had felt it once before, and this was nothing new to them. But they had lost the will to cry, to try and do anything more than allow themselves to be dragged along, just vaguely able to register their husband's frantic cries for help. Their eyes were already closing, the blood slowing down to a trickle not because it was clogging but because they had little of it left to spare.
They could do nothing but strain upwards, hoping that, if they were to die, that at least they could give Bo one last kiss. But the energy to do so wasn't there, and all they managed to do was lose more blood as they struggled to lean upwards.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden