01-27-2021, 11:45 PM
You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
I'll Swallow you Whole.
I'll Swallow you Whole.
Even his laugh sounds like a storm, and she is fascinated by it. There is so much to him, so many shifting layers, so many pieces that have come together to make something whole. If it had been possible she would have felt a flicker of envy; that there was so much to him, but so little to her. Plain and white with eyes like starless galaxies, and not much else— a nearly emotionless void on the inside and carved of marble on the outside. Someone had told her once that she was not how they had imagined a star being; said they had always imagined stars to be light and friendly, where Islas was cool and impersonal.
She hadn’t been offended by that, of course.
It wasn’t her fault, after all, that so few knew what the stars were really like.
Looking at Morrowind she does not think he ran the risk of ever being misunderstood. He was a storm, and even if he did entirely feel like one—even if he still felt like he was missing pieces of his old self—he still harnessed all the energy of one.
“You are still all of the things you used to be, even here.” From anyone else the words may have been soft-spoken and reassuring, but spoken from her tongue they are unpolished, a simple statement. Her face slants up towards the sky, and carefully she gathers a few strands of starlight, spinning them together until they drifted lazily towards earth as glowing orbs. “Being here is not the same as being a star in the sky, and I don’t know how to explain to anyone what it used to be like. What I used to be like.” She pauses, turning her eyes from the starlight to his own, a bare glimpse of a smile flickering at the edge of her white lips. “But I’m still me, and I’ve learned I don’t owe it to anyone here to conform to what they think I should be.”
She hadn’t been offended by that, of course.
It wasn’t her fault, after all, that so few knew what the stars were really like.
Looking at Morrowind she does not think he ran the risk of ever being misunderstood. He was a storm, and even if he did entirely feel like one—even if he still felt like he was missing pieces of his old self—he still harnessed all the energy of one.
“You are still all of the things you used to be, even here.” From anyone else the words may have been soft-spoken and reassuring, but spoken from her tongue they are unpolished, a simple statement. Her face slants up towards the sky, and carefully she gathers a few strands of starlight, spinning them together until they drifted lazily towards earth as glowing orbs. “Being here is not the same as being a star in the sky, and I don’t know how to explain to anyone what it used to be like. What I used to be like.” She pauses, turning her eyes from the starlight to his own, a bare glimpse of a smile flickering at the edge of her white lips. “But I’m still me, and I’ve learned I don’t owe it to anyone here to conform to what they think I should be.”
Islas
