Clemente
To say Clem's life has been turned upside down is an understatement. Which really, considering his entire life history and the fact he was magically transported here not long ago, says a lot about the current time period. Part of him knows he's being childish and unfair, considering how little directly impacts him. Rexanna is the one thrust into leadership, Wessex is the one deposed, all of his Ascended family are moving forward and breaking ground and he's just. Here. Burdensome and useless.
After Amun had told him he could take his books home from the Atheneum, he'd studied for days between visiting Dante and tiptoeing around Rexanna and Bastien. But even his desire to be useful can't make him sit with his nose in a book for too long. The outside world calls, the woods and earth that he'd never gotten to experience and still has so much left to explore. When darkness descends he jogs out into the night, beyond every marker he knows until every bit of scenery is new and untouched by his gaze. Part of him longs to feel the crisp spring air, the soft give of earth beneath his feet, things he never got to experience before and now never will. But Clem's lungs don't wheeze and rattle with illness anymore when he runs. His throat doesn't burn and his legs don't ache with exertion. This body of his may be different, but it's stronger. Isn't that what he'd always wanted back then? To be stronger?
So involved in his slow-paced exploration and the blinding miasma of his own musings, Clem startles at the sudden appearance of a figure in the shadows, whirling and lifting his fists with a snarl more befitting an alley dog than a sixteen year old boy. Until he recognizes Wessex in the next half moment, and drops his arms to grin broadly at her. "That was so cool," he praises, starstruck as always by her never-ending skills and hidden tricks. Swiftly his expression falters, recalling how she had been unfairly voted out of her position, the last time he'd seen or spoken to her. She may always be Queen to him, but how does she feel in the end? "Are you okay?" Not that he thinks she'd share her innermost worries with him, but it feels wrong not to ask.
After Amun had told him he could take his books home from the Atheneum, he'd studied for days between visiting Dante and tiptoeing around Rexanna and Bastien. But even his desire to be useful can't make him sit with his nose in a book for too long. The outside world calls, the woods and earth that he'd never gotten to experience and still has so much left to explore. When darkness descends he jogs out into the night, beyond every marker he knows until every bit of scenery is new and untouched by his gaze. Part of him longs to feel the crisp spring air, the soft give of earth beneath his feet, things he never got to experience before and now never will. But Clem's lungs don't wheeze and rattle with illness anymore when he runs. His throat doesn't burn and his legs don't ache with exertion. This body of his may be different, but it's stronger. Isn't that what he'd always wanted back then? To be stronger?
So involved in his slow-paced exploration and the blinding miasma of his own musings, Clem startles at the sudden appearance of a figure in the shadows, whirling and lifting his fists with a snarl more befitting an alley dog than a sixteen year old boy. Until he recognizes Wessex in the next half moment, and drops his arms to grin broadly at her. "That was so cool," he praises, starstruck as always by her never-ending skills and hidden tricks. Swiftly his expression falters, recalling how she had been unfairly voted out of her position, the last time he'd seen or spoken to her. She may always be Queen to him, but how does she feel in the end? "Are you okay?" Not that he thinks she'd share her innermost worries with him, but it feels wrong not to ask.
i felt so much so often
that i started to feel nothing
that i started to feel nothing
