Ophelia
we're just two ghosts
swimming in a glass half empty
swimming in a glass half empty
An hour is a measly thing to Ophelia now, especially with so much to explore in the infirmary. They keep a respectful distance of course, but every instrument and sickly child is investigated with the same curious, unblinking stare.
Isla’s arrival summons them back to the metal table, and they smile beatifically as they pleasantly accept the preferred hand, shaking perhaps a time too many in their eagerness. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sister,” they croon, having yet to be deterred from their familial mindset by any other Ascended. “Yes they are. We’re to mix it, but my version of that is to put it all into a bucket and give it a good stir. I assumed you’d have a better idea.” Unashamed as they are of their farming roots, they’re still aware it’s likely not the best solution.
Isla’s arrival summons them back to the metal table, and they smile beatifically as they pleasantly accept the preferred hand, shaking perhaps a time too many in their eagerness. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sister,” they croon, having yet to be deterred from their familial mindset by any other Ascended. “Yes they are. We’re to mix it, but my version of that is to put it all into a bucket and give it a good stir. I assumed you’d have a better idea.” Unashamed as they are of their farming roots, they’re still aware it’s likely not the best solution.
trying vainly to forget
the pain that came with heartbeats
the pain that came with heartbeats
