08-19-2020, 12:40 AM
THE TACTICIAN
Hybrid — three months — minnow
information — written by rhett
information — written by rhett
The water of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
Beneath the ceaseless onward march time conducted in the assemblance of fabricated seconds warped the soft crown reverence laced words had once bore about fleeting edges. A broken cry it now, befallen still lips grown cold beneath the caress of death, twisted until core was a fragmented mass, glass aching for careless curiosity.
Those who shed blood with you are more family than that who carry the same in their veins.
Yet what of the child unsullied by blood, who carried only the protective flicker innocent naivety bestowed, tempered glass slowly gathering fine cracks with each days passing. They knew of blood, their own a delicate rain when misjudgement had brought consequences of minor note, had tasted hers in the air, felt it beneath the uneven part where cooling skin had succumbed to too harsh a touch.
Family are those to whom you have chosen to make a gift of your heart. So why must they be fragile, porcelain beauty awaiting merely the hollow chime, the death knoll signifying their time had reached an end.
Few and with an ever expanding distance present between the nights when caught were even a small snippet of slumber, sand slipping through grasping fingers had it become. What little they held with tentative hope was a warped, twisted landscape, a place riddled with nothing but horror, the death that had cast a dark mask across still face of mother burned where mind may not find it. Under the bed had they taken to, within minimal space assembled the makeshift boundaries of a clumsy nest.
Never enough, cold the comfort they may claim with plush, worn and battered, given to repair as teeth pulled at seams, wanted the one awaiting burial. Dragged out in haste for departure some lodged beneath, behind left it all, familiar the actions staged. Latch lifted, the cool wind gentle in its fleeting caress along dark features grown sodden beneath tracks they knew not had come to spill, claws scraping against wood. Short the drop, enough even the small wings adorned in soft down may claim some lift, outward spread until sand cradled collapsed body.
Aching. Faint the burning protest, how the flames of budding agony licked along taunt muscle when beneath was gathered legs. Never enough rest, always pushing — stop for once child, let the world fade away. Of such they were incapable, slow their trek along shores familiar beneath golden illumination, alien now. Downward the turn umber made, shuddering each breath until —
"One, two, three…" Broken whisper adorned lips of obsidian, counted each step, useless such trivial aspect but grounding. To it mind was drawn, all else a hum lacing chained edges beating as though admittance may be given, exhaustion steadily stealing from child last ounces of strength. Had it been so easy on may they have continued, naive to all that ached with the gathered heat anger scoured taped together heart with, but the bubble is a fragile thing, innocence falling in sparkling fragments.
It was the rage written in echoing sound, forgein here where the soft hush the tide whispered against the sand prevailed, subdued beneath it, that drew them forth as though they were but a moth to a flame. Turn away, it is not your fight. Mechanical the actions, how legs grew straight, pace odd for manner they held themself was unfamiliar. Dark the scene upon which they intruded, brothers all, broken and lost on ways uniquely theirs. To Seapaw did gaze skip, perceived but could not understand how his rage and sorrow twisted together, a damning vortex tearing asunder his heart. Tended he, the approach Lovekit made one Harlow would not impede, other of more worrying note.
"Law," murmur upon tongue, all that escaped the tight cage teeth made as it faded into the deafening cry the ocean voiced alongside distraught brother. Closer did they move, dared to reach, made attempt akin to Lovekit to comfort in way of drawing Lawkit closer so atop head may they place chin, offering a stuttering, broken hum as their eyes squeezed shut.
Beneath the ceaseless onward march time conducted in the assemblance of fabricated seconds warped the soft crown reverence laced words had once bore about fleeting edges. A broken cry it now, befallen still lips grown cold beneath the caress of death, twisted until core was a fragmented mass, glass aching for careless curiosity.
Those who shed blood with you are more family than that who carry the same in their veins.
Yet what of the child unsullied by blood, who carried only the protective flicker innocent naivety bestowed, tempered glass slowly gathering fine cracks with each days passing. They knew of blood, their own a delicate rain when misjudgement had brought consequences of minor note, had tasted hers in the air, felt it beneath the uneven part where cooling skin had succumbed to too harsh a touch.
Family are those to whom you have chosen to make a gift of your heart. So why must they be fragile, porcelain beauty awaiting merely the hollow chime, the death knoll signifying their time had reached an end.
Few and with an ever expanding distance present between the nights when caught were even a small snippet of slumber, sand slipping through grasping fingers had it become. What little they held with tentative hope was a warped, twisted landscape, a place riddled with nothing but horror, the death that had cast a dark mask across still face of mother burned where mind may not find it. Under the bed had they taken to, within minimal space assembled the makeshift boundaries of a clumsy nest.
Never enough, cold the comfort they may claim with plush, worn and battered, given to repair as teeth pulled at seams, wanted the one awaiting burial. Dragged out in haste for departure some lodged beneath, behind left it all, familiar the actions staged. Latch lifted, the cool wind gentle in its fleeting caress along dark features grown sodden beneath tracks they knew not had come to spill, claws scraping against wood. Short the drop, enough even the small wings adorned in soft down may claim some lift, outward spread until sand cradled collapsed body.
Aching. Faint the burning protest, how the flames of budding agony licked along taunt muscle when beneath was gathered legs. Never enough rest, always pushing — stop for once child, let the world fade away. Of such they were incapable, slow their trek along shores familiar beneath golden illumination, alien now. Downward the turn umber made, shuddering each breath until —
"One, two, three…" Broken whisper adorned lips of obsidian, counted each step, useless such trivial aspect but grounding. To it mind was drawn, all else a hum lacing chained edges beating as though admittance may be given, exhaustion steadily stealing from child last ounces of strength. Had it been so easy on may they have continued, naive to all that ached with the gathered heat anger scoured taped together heart with, but the bubble is a fragile thing, innocence falling in sparkling fragments.
It was the rage written in echoing sound, forgein here where the soft hush the tide whispered against the sand prevailed, subdued beneath it, that drew them forth as though they were but a moth to a flame. Turn away, it is not your fight. Mechanical the actions, how legs grew straight, pace odd for manner they held themself was unfamiliar. Dark the scene upon which they intruded, brothers all, broken and lost on ways uniquely theirs. To Seapaw did gaze skip, perceived but could not understand how his rage and sorrow twisted together, a damning vortex tearing asunder his heart. Tended he, the approach Lovekit made one Harlow would not impede, other of more worrying note.
"Law," murmur upon tongue, all that escaped the tight cage teeth made as it faded into the deafening cry the ocean voiced alongside distraught brother. Closer did they move, dared to reach, made attempt akin to Lovekit to comfort in way of drawing Lawkit closer so atop head may they place chin, offering a stuttering, broken hum as their eyes squeezed shut.
code by Reggan