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BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]
graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ 3 eyed crow
“Vale?” The crow titled vis head, left then right, right then left, and tapped vis beak with a claw. “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”
Twisting the word this way and that, dissecting it into its base pieces, the little crow decided to pocket the interesting syllable. Emotions and feelings rippled. Not unpleasant; perhaps enough time passed to allow the memories to become faded enough to look at without being blinded by the horribleness. But then the crow imagined a snippet of Brymstone, and the crow shook verself off—physically, like shaking off water—and slipped back into present mindlessness.
“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore….” Vale trailed off. This was already the longest thought ve’d strung together in a long sort, but it failed to answer the hybrid’s question, didn’t it? “Who is forgotten, Vale or the lore?”
Leaping off vis perch, the crow fluttered down to Dante. Ve thought it unlikely the shark-cat would eat ver. Even so, there were plenty of other creatures—the crows, Dante himself—to hitch vis consciousness on, if this flesh suit died.
“Journeying. Searching. Questing. Everyone wanting something, always…” the crow shushed verself. Looking up at Dante, all three eyes staring into the hybrid’s face, ve continued. “A trade? A gift. What is a name but memories strung together to form a line of consciousness? Begin from the name. Ends when the rain washes the engraving away, the grave smooth as a river stone.”
The little crow attempted to tap vis beak at Dante’s paw. Not sharply, mind you, not an attack but a story.
The catalyst. The false climax. The lowest point. The solution. The true climax.
The crow waited. Then ve spoke, repeating vis earlier phrase, more sorrowful than the last. “Who is forgotten, Vale or the lore?”
YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★ Twisting the word this way and that, dissecting it into its base pieces, the little crow decided to pocket the interesting syllable. Emotions and feelings rippled. Not unpleasant; perhaps enough time passed to allow the memories to become faded enough to look at without being blinded by the horribleness. But then the crow imagined a snippet of Brymstone, and the crow shook verself off—physically, like shaking off water—and slipped back into present mindlessness.
“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore….” Vale trailed off. This was already the longest thought ve’d strung together in a long sort, but it failed to answer the hybrid’s question, didn’t it? “Who is forgotten, Vale or the lore?”
Leaping off vis perch, the crow fluttered down to Dante. Ve thought it unlikely the shark-cat would eat ver. Even so, there were plenty of other creatures—the crows, Dante himself—to hitch vis consciousness on, if this flesh suit died.
“Journeying. Searching. Questing. Everyone wanting something, always…” the crow shushed verself. Looking up at Dante, all three eyes staring into the hybrid’s face, ve continued. “A trade? A gift. What is a name but memories strung together to form a line of consciousness? Begin from the name. Ends when the rain washes the engraving away, the grave smooth as a river stone.”
The little crow attempted to tap vis beak at Dante’s paw. Not sharply, mind you, not an attack but a story.
The catalyst. The false climax. The lowest point. The solution. The true climax.
The crow waited. Then ve spoke, repeating vis earlier phrase, more sorrowful than the last. “Who is forgotten, Vale or the lore?”
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]
METAMORPHOSIS
all that is left is the change !
Descendants of the Departed ★ Inquisitor of Requiem's Creation
![[Image: 325cc33efd667d2f2f236106f1e2c7a3.gif]](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/5c/c3/325cc33efd667d2f2f236106f1e2c7a3.gif)