KOA
There is no right way to grieve, Jude. Gods know you made your share of bad choices, in the aftermath of your mother's death. Even now it's a wound you cannot look at, a scab that never seems to heal no matter how much time fades.
The Metacarpal Island is a dismal place, one you wouldn't venture to normally. As you skirt around the ossified shore you find yourself both compelled and repulsed. It's a place of death and rot and decay, but also life and flourishing beauty; a place that can bring hope or fear, oscillating with the uncertainty of mortality itself. Lurid colors clash with bleached white bone, creating a contrast that has your teeth clenched, an edge of nervousness sparking down your spine.
Nerves which shift to shrieking paranoia as sound erupts through the eerie still. It comes from behind you, the loud shout of a broken thing followed closely by the crash of sliding shale. Spinning around with your heart in your throat, you see a harrowing plume of dust. It's too far to make out any detail, so you wait, fists ready and eyes alert as the ashen bone settles enough that you can see...
...a body.
For a second you oscillate, torn between the ingrained training to assist and a very real fear of traps and danger. The training wins; it always does; you're nothing if not stupidly drawn toward aiding those in need. "Hey!" you call out, walking first before picking your pace into a jog. "Hey, are you---" Okay? It dies upon your lips as realization rises. This isn't just a despondent stranger, spat out by the isle. This is an all too familiar figure, if one you haven't see for far too long.
This is Jude.
Oh, shit.
Memories of your last encounter swarm within your mind: Jude, drunk, longing, wanting; you, too beguiled to say no. An ending you shake out of your thoughts, because it isn't important to the here and now. Jude is crying and probably injured, and you are at the edge of a panic spiral, and standing like an idiot won't help anyone, so you better get your shit together and do what you do best.
"Jude. Hey." Dropping down onto your knees, you extend a hand toward the boy, though whether to push the hair from his face or to haul him up you couldn't say. "It's okay. I'm here. What happened? Are you hurt?" Copper eyes dart back up to the tree line, combing quickly for any sign of pursuit. But the living jungle remains eerily silent, the only sound their quickened breath and the waves that lap against the shore.
The Metacarpal Island is a dismal place, one you wouldn't venture to normally. As you skirt around the ossified shore you find yourself both compelled and repulsed. It's a place of death and rot and decay, but also life and flourishing beauty; a place that can bring hope or fear, oscillating with the uncertainty of mortality itself. Lurid colors clash with bleached white bone, creating a contrast that has your teeth clenched, an edge of nervousness sparking down your spine.
Nerves which shift to shrieking paranoia as sound erupts through the eerie still. It comes from behind you, the loud shout of a broken thing followed closely by the crash of sliding shale. Spinning around with your heart in your throat, you see a harrowing plume of dust. It's too far to make out any detail, so you wait, fists ready and eyes alert as the ashen bone settles enough that you can see...
...a body.
For a second you oscillate, torn between the ingrained training to assist and a very real fear of traps and danger. The training wins; it always does; you're nothing if not stupidly drawn toward aiding those in need. "Hey!" you call out, walking first before picking your pace into a jog. "Hey, are you---" Okay? It dies upon your lips as realization rises. This isn't just a despondent stranger, spat out by the isle. This is an all too familiar figure, if one you haven't see for far too long.
This is Jude.
Oh, shit.
Memories of your last encounter swarm within your mind: Jude, drunk, longing, wanting; you, too beguiled to say no. An ending you shake out of your thoughts, because it isn't important to the here and now. Jude is crying and probably injured, and you are at the edge of a panic spiral, and standing like an idiot won't help anyone, so you better get your shit together and do what you do best.
"Jude. Hey." Dropping down onto your knees, you extend a hand toward the boy, though whether to push the hair from his face or to haul him up you couldn't say. "It's okay. I'm here. What happened? Are you hurt?" Copper eyes dart back up to the tree line, combing quickly for any sign of pursuit. But the living jungle remains eerily silent, the only sound their quickened breath and the waves that lap against the shore.
Let me go, I don't wanna be your hero
I don't wanna be a big man
Just wanna fight with everyone else
I don't wanna be a big man
Just wanna fight with everyone else
Code stolen from Queen Sky
