08-26-2018, 07:24 PM
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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
[b]BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES
[ uses the same song i use for frenchie and bast for muffheart and bast and starts crying ]
In the middle of the night, he could feel them.
It washed over him slowly, the subtle draw cutting through the fog that he had been existing in for days; through all the noise of everyone else's emotions and auras and feelings, through his own turmoil, through everything — there was suddenly just them, the unmistakeable call of someone who needed him. Who needed Grimm. He followed the siren song on autopilot, accepting almost subconsciously that he knew who he would find waiting for him on the other end, that he knew that something was wrong but that it was right, too. This was not the call of someone on the brink of tragedy, waiting for release; this was the call of someone on the brink of peace. They needed him. He was standing in the way of that peace, and the eerie calm that settled over him was a reflection of the peace he was meant to be delivering, the need that he was meant to fulfill.
The bengal moved through the basement silently, fur dark with that faint black glow that radiated from him as he moved with sure, careful steps. He might have felt at odds with the complete stillness of the night, no one else stirring, if not for the innate knowledge that it was as it should be. They deserved as much: the serenity and privacy of a quiet night, the ability to find their peace without interruption. Fate could be a cruel goddess, but there were times when she was just, and this was the justice they had earned; this was the sort of justice that tempted him, sometimes, to believe in the possibility of happy endings.
It wasn't a far walk, but by the time he reached them he felt that peace overtaking him more fully; this close he can sense that this is something deeper, something more final, and while something in him is screaming in resistance his brain has accepted what his heart doesn't want to — it has understood why he was brought here, why now, and it has understood that he is still necessary, that this is necessary. He is merely the host, filling the gaps, molding himself into the tool to greater serenity, and they need him now. It gives him the strength to push past his reservations, the faint urge to try to stop it, to keep going until he's at their room and he has a moment to just breathe out very slowly.
He still remembers the first time he met them, and it is almost funny to consider that they joined apart when they seem to be permanently together in his mind. There had been a sense of peace with each of them (even if their "names" seemed wrong to him), and it was almost ironic how it had been just him to greet both of them on the border: now here he was again, alone in the night, to bid them farewell. He felt oddly as if Fate had brought them to him intentionally, a chapter in his life to show him that it was okay to care and okay to forgive — but no, that was too limiting. In reality he was a chapter in their lives, someone who had been changed by their presence and better for it; to reduce them to a facet of his own was wrong and twisted, didn't do justice to the centuries they'd spent together touching the lives of those around them. He was simply one of the many, and he could only count it as an honor he didn't deserve.
He didn't knock. Somehow he didn't think that he had to, somehow he knew that they could sense him just as readily as he sensed them — they were live wires, pulling one another closer to the inevitable crescendo, and as he pushed the door open it felt like he was entering the gates of a liminal space. Nothing quite felt real, and maybe that was host rising in him, or maybe there was a part of him that was still holding onto the denial, unable to fully commit to the calm acceptance that had overtaken him. He felt weightless as he took a step into the quiet room, the words light on his tongue as he breathed, [b]"Mom— Maman—"
In the middle of the night, he could feel them.
It washed over him slowly, the subtle draw cutting through the fog that he had been existing in for days; through all the noise of everyone else's emotions and auras and feelings, through his own turmoil, through everything — there was suddenly just them, the unmistakeable call of someone who needed him. Who needed Grimm. He followed the siren song on autopilot, accepting almost subconsciously that he knew who he would find waiting for him on the other end, that he knew that something was wrong but that it was right, too. This was not the call of someone on the brink of tragedy, waiting for release; this was the call of someone on the brink of peace. They needed him. He was standing in the way of that peace, and the eerie calm that settled over him was a reflection of the peace he was meant to be delivering, the need that he was meant to fulfill.
The bengal moved through the basement silently, fur dark with that faint black glow that radiated from him as he moved with sure, careful steps. He might have felt at odds with the complete stillness of the night, no one else stirring, if not for the innate knowledge that it was as it should be. They deserved as much: the serenity and privacy of a quiet night, the ability to find their peace without interruption. Fate could be a cruel goddess, but there were times when she was just, and this was the justice they had earned; this was the sort of justice that tempted him, sometimes, to believe in the possibility of happy endings.
It wasn't a far walk, but by the time he reached them he felt that peace overtaking him more fully; this close he can sense that this is something deeper, something more final, and while something in him is screaming in resistance his brain has accepted what his heart doesn't want to — it has understood why he was brought here, why now, and it has understood that he is still necessary, that this is necessary. He is merely the host, filling the gaps, molding himself into the tool to greater serenity, and they need him now. It gives him the strength to push past his reservations, the faint urge to try to stop it, to keep going until he's at their room and he has a moment to just breathe out very slowly.
He still remembers the first time he met them, and it is almost funny to consider that they joined apart when they seem to be permanently together in his mind. There had been a sense of peace with each of them (even if their "names" seemed wrong to him), and it was almost ironic how it had been just him to greet both of them on the border: now here he was again, alone in the night, to bid them farewell. He felt oddly as if Fate had brought them to him intentionally, a chapter in his life to show him that it was okay to care and okay to forgive — but no, that was too limiting. In reality he was a chapter in their lives, someone who had been changed by their presence and better for it; to reduce them to a facet of his own was wrong and twisted, didn't do justice to the centuries they'd spent together touching the lives of those around them. He was simply one of the many, and he could only count it as an honor he didn't deserve.
He didn't knock. Somehow he didn't think that he had to, somehow he knew that they could sense him just as readily as he sensed them — they were live wires, pulling one another closer to the inevitable crescendo, and as he pushed the door open it felt like he was entering the gates of a liminal space. Nothing quite felt real, and maybe that was host rising in him, or maybe there was a part of him that was still holding onto the denial, unable to fully commit to the calm acceptance that had overtaken him. He felt weightless as he took a step into the quiet room, the words light on his tongue as he breathed, [b]"Mom— Maman—"
[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]
