we all are stranger creatures

[scrimshander]

[ he should have known it was another one of his tricks, another one of his ridiculous constructs of faith. but time begets familiarity, if not affection, and the outsider knew how he'd react to his usual jibes. daud's lashed out at him before, never really expecting his blows to connect, and thus throwing all his considerable force behind him.

but this time, the knife—a knife that hummed with his mark and appeared with a sudden weight in his hand, its presence snapping through his arm up into his heart—hit true, lanced through the outsider's sharp cheekbone and back into his throat. the whalesongs that filled the outsider's void filled him, then, too, and his bones felt for a second like they were being sucked out of his body.

he's been alone ever since. that's not the problem. the problem is, though his feet hit the ground in the place that is not the void as solidly as ever, when he glances at his reflection in a shop storefront, his eyes gleam a flat, dark, gold.

fucking gods. though, if his suspicions are correct, he's a god now, too.

he hopes the outsider is still alive, if only so that he can drive his knife into that damn half-smile the bastard always wears again. ]

Comments

[nobilify]

[ the cosmos are strange. and even in the most infinite of understanding, the cosmos can remain as much. she has less understanding of the heavens than that. but her presence in this world does not bother her for the moment. (should it remain permanent, though... this is not her home. rose needs her. and belzac —) this world intrigues her, in fact: the odd contraptions, the buzzing of something so mundane, the endless height of it all. she watches a wall of light from the middle of the street. none see her for all the living is drawn to her presence, passing through her as if air. ]

[scrimshander]

[ maybe this is how the outsider saw things—sees things, he reminds himself—everything burning even brighter than with his void gaze. glancing past the flickers of green and blue, he sees a different light. it's bright, yet somewhat diffused, and utterly unlike the placid shine of the people walking through the figure.

he walks, resisting the urge to blink, and stops on the side of the street, watching. ]

wow that first tag was terrible pls forgive me

[nobilify]

[ she remains still as stone, for all those that pass through her, and for several moments. and then, she turns her head enough to see him. her feet are wisps, torn fabric, and she was of small bones in life. in death, her figure is high from the ground. and her skin is mottled blue as if she rotted in a river. perhaps it was the thick gown and dozen of rubies that drowned her. ]

[scrimshander]

[ rich jewelry, the kind of adornment he'd stolen dozens of times before. (then again, what's stopping him from stealing more..? is it the omnipotence thing? maybe.) daud fights the urge to slip out of her sight again—this isn't a job.

he walks closer, instead, mouth in a tight line. ]

You're standing in the way.

[ sort of... not really. ]

[nobilify]

Yours?

[ she doesn't move, of course. ]