01-25-2021, 12:50 PM
DEAR FRIEND as you know, your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
but the clouds are clearing up
and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
like a bastard on the burning sea.
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
but the clouds are clearing up
and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
like a bastard on the burning sea.
There was something about the sea, that the Roux's could connect to so naturally. Perhaps it was Njord, or Aegir, themselves that'd chosen them. Goldie's title was not directly connected to the waters, but the thunderous clouds that traversed over them, used them for leverage. It was her papa, who truly was a minor God of the ocean, and in turn, they've found life, death, and chains to the waters in ways that could not be shared quite the same with any other. When she'd lost her memories before, when she'd died and been given life, it had been through the ocean, through the Gods that sewed her together, and in turn the fates that would cut her down. She'd emerged from the sea just as her sons, and their grandfather remained bound to it still today, not that she was aware of any of this. To her knowledge, voices had rang out, just before she was meant to be pulled under, telling her that she is Goldenluxury Roux, and that it was not yet her time. That they would help her, if she were to only listen. Well, it's been almost a month, and she has done little else but attempt her best to listen.
Still, she would offer nods as the other explained himself, responded to her own comments. She had one question, for all of her children, that she'd been tempted to ask in the midst of all of this, but she ultimately decided not to each time. It seemed that the answer would come to her as each interacted with her as they saw fit. Was she a good mother? Perhaps. It was clear, at least, that she'd tried her best, and that she loved them unconditionally, and that she still would. "Sounds painful," she'd state at first, obviously, though her tone is sympathetic. "I've not tried t' use these...not since 've woken up, at least. It's too risky for now." She'd continue, gesturing to her own wings, shifting as she spoke of them. If she were to get a headache, her head got overwhelmed, or anything else that could go wrong, it would be an immediate danger to herself and others. It was for this reason she couldn't try to swim or sail yet either.
She pauses for a few moments now, unsure of what exactly to say. She didn't want to keep things quiet, didn't want to force the other to do all of the work in the conversation, and she certainly didn't want him to go. No, she was desperate, desperate to be around the ones she'd raised, desperate for that interaction, something to split the times spent staring at the wall, feeling inadequate. This was something she needed to do right. Her features almost turn downwards, a frown almost presenting itself, before she catches it, looking back to the other, clearing her throat. She decided, she would be frank. Cut right to the chase. "Sorry if it's inappropriate, but I'd like t' know m' sons more...I don' wanna bring pain, every time you see me. I'd like t' know what you're interested in, what you like, everythin'. Would you tell me?"
Still, she would offer nods as the other explained himself, responded to her own comments. She had one question, for all of her children, that she'd been tempted to ask in the midst of all of this, but she ultimately decided not to each time. It seemed that the answer would come to her as each interacted with her as they saw fit. Was she a good mother? Perhaps. It was clear, at least, that she'd tried her best, and that she loved them unconditionally, and that she still would. "Sounds painful," she'd state at first, obviously, though her tone is sympathetic. "I've not tried t' use these...not since 've woken up, at least. It's too risky for now." She'd continue, gesturing to her own wings, shifting as she spoke of them. If she were to get a headache, her head got overwhelmed, or anything else that could go wrong, it would be an immediate danger to herself and others. It was for this reason she couldn't try to swim or sail yet either.
She pauses for a few moments now, unsure of what exactly to say. She didn't want to keep things quiet, didn't want to force the other to do all of the work in the conversation, and she certainly didn't want him to go. No, she was desperate, desperate to be around the ones she'd raised, desperate for that interaction, something to split the times spent staring at the wall, feeling inadequate. This was something she needed to do right. Her features almost turn downwards, a frown almost presenting itself, before she catches it, looking back to the other, clearing her throat. She decided, she would be frank. Cut right to the chase. "Sorry if it's inappropriate, but I'd like t' know m' sons more...I don' wanna bring pain, every time you see me. I'd like t' know what you're interested in, what you like, everythin'. Would you tell me?"
NOTHING'S EVER LOST FOREVER, IT'S JUST HIDING IN THE RECESS OF YOUR MIND AND WHEN YOU NEED IT, IT WILL COME TO YOU AT NIGHT. I MISS THE YELLOW. I MISS THE YELLING AND THE SHAKEDOWN. I'M NOT COMPLAINING, NO, I GOT A BETTER SET OF KNIVES NOW. I MISS MY DRUMMER, MY DEAD STEPBROTHER, AND THE PIT CROWD. AND CHUCK AND MATTY - IF THEY COULD SEE ME THEY'D BE SO PROUD.