rootsofthestories: (writing: myriad worlds)
Chaos and Calamity ([personal profile] rootsofthestories) wrote in [community profile] rainbowfic2015-04-24 03:41 pm

Spilt ink, Avocado, Code Brown, Rose Pink

Name: Sebastian
Title: stories before the war
Story: Take Me To Church (And I'll Take You To War)
Colors: Spilt Ink: 18. You will become whatever you want to become. Even if you don’t know what that is.
Avocado: 19) But what a fool believes he sees / No wise man has the power to reason away/ What seems to be / Is always better than nothing -The Doobie Brothers: What A Fool Believes
Rose Pink: 3. you're beautiful
Code Brown: 12. This was our first, this was our only, this was our very last chance
Supplies: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Nothing really, I think?
40Word count; 1040
Notes: New verse! Some people ahve been hearing about this universe for a bit now and I happen to be in love with it. I don't do enough with this lot and I wanted to play with some of the varied mythology within it, so I wrote the first half of this and wanted to get my boys in, so the second half of it came about.
Mods: I could maybe use a tag? 'Church and War' works for a tag since it's actual title is so long. Also need a color tag for avocado.

What she wanted to be, what she craved more than anything, was to be safe.

She needed safety more than she knew what to do with but she always was running the wrong way to get it. Into the arms of war, into waiting lovers with dark eyes and hard hands, into a life she didn't understand but hoped would be better than the one she left behind.

She ran and she ran but she never ran right, never turned the corner and found somewhere she could relax.

So she ran into the girls with death in their eyes and they told her to keep running. She ran into the war torn boys and they told her to pray. She ran into the goddess with whisky on her lips and she said she had to find her own angels.

So she ran into the dark and she prayed to any god who would listen, not for an angel but for a little direction, for knowledge of where to go after the world spit her out yet again, chewed up and bloody.

And the gods, or maybe just the world, answered. Something shifting and turning until one of them spilled something forth from the blood on it's lips.

An angel.

It was huge, living in shadow with too many eyes, too many hands. It moved like a cat, like a great creature of power and potential to break her down.

When she saw it, she could not tell if she had gone mad or been blessed. Then again, it didn't matter, either option was better than what she'd been before that moment.

She reaches out to the being, fingers ghosting over shadowskin that was warm to her touch. The dark wrapped around her fingers, pulling her closer to it.

It was beautiful, terrifying and sharp but so pretty all the same.

She hums softly as the angel rested it's head against her shoulder, it's breath tickling her ear and arms wrapping around her tight. She shivered a little but she knew it would be okay with her new guardian near. She knew she would be safe.

The angel walks around her, studying her, evaluating with it's many eyes. She stands stock still and hopes she passes muster, hopes she can earn enough approval for her angel to stay.

And when it comes closer to her again, when she finds many dark, hungry eyes staring at her, she's sure she has passed.

Her fingers move to touch again and the angel crouches, offering it's back to her and she climbs on, unsure of what happens next but the angel is running as soon as she's on and she has no chance to think.

It takes off into dark streets, alleys with walls they shouldn't be able to pass through but do anyway.

They run together into he city, leaving a smattering of ash behind them. Flames lick the angel's feet but she has no idea where they come from and she doesn't care. The fire is hers now too. She's not scared of getting burned.

When the angel stops running, it's at the heart of the city, it's on a stage and it's with everyone watching.

It's like they've come to see her safety. They've gathered to marvel at it.

So here she is, in the middle of everything, on the back of an angel with so much to offer. She climbs off, uncertain if it's what she should do, but encouraged as the angel leans down to make it easier.

She stands in front of it, letting the crowd of people fall away. A part of her remembers an old warning, a saying about being discrete around angles, but she's never known why and she doesn't know how it applies now.

The angel opens it's jaws and she sees that even it's tongue has an eye. It rolls out before her, long and thick and the teeth that unfold have too many rows and look too sharp.

But she's not afraid, not of the angel. Of the people watching, she find herself wary, but never of her angel.

So she does as she feels she needs to and takes off her shoes, her coat and the rest of her clothes. She crawls inside the angels mouth, still unafraid, though cautious of the many rows of teeth.

She feels herself growing drowsy at the smell of the angel's breath against her and she curls up on it's tongue, just behind the eye, and lets herself fall away as the angel closes its heavy jaws.

She is safe now, tucked between the angel's teeth. She is safe, she is protected.

Nothing can touch her.

~

"Do you remember that story?" Ebs asks him, his head tilted.

"Yeah I had the picture book when I was little," he says, laughing. "it always freaked me out a bit. The angels, what in all the underworlds was that about? Like...way too many eyes. Nothing needs that many eyes."

"I don't know, I think it's kind of comforting." He plays with the choker around his neck, looking up at the sky. "You would be safe there and nothing could sneak up on you. The angel would know and you'd swallow you deeper into it."

"This coming from the guy who's going to be spending the next few years inside a tank." Rhys points out. "You're not scared because it's exactly what you're doing."

"Maybe," he agrees. "But it's better than being scared of it. I can't afford that."

They grow silent after that, a plane flying overhead the only noise that settles between them.

"Yeah," Rhys says. "I know you can't."

Their hands intertwine and Ebs takes a long, slow breath. "I bet your mom is gonna make me a great pie before I go."

Rhys laughs a little but it's only halfhearted. "My mom always liked you better. She's always making you better pies."

"Yeah well, she'll have you to spoil wen I'm gone."

"Yeah."

They stay quiet after that, sitting together in the low evening light until the mosquitos start to buzz in their ears and they go inside to have some of the promised pie and pretend that nothing is going to go wrong.

[personal profile] greenling 2015-04-26 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
That is one hell of a picture book. This is definitely an interesting mythology.
kay_brooke: Two purple flowers against a green background (spring)

[personal profile] kay_brooke 2015-04-29 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)
I love the little myth at the beginning, and the conversation is just amazing and heartbreaking in so many ways! You captured that feeling of impending change and not-quite-convincing pretending everything is fine perfectly.
shipwreck_light: (Default)

[personal profile] shipwreck_light 2015-05-01 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
*spreads fic out*

*rolls through it*

*knows the pie half will end badly in the future, and loves it all the more for that*
novel_machinist: (Default)

[personal profile] novel_machinist 2015-05-21 05:12 pm (UTC)(link)
"She ran and she ran but she never ran right"

Man that opening. I'm excited to read more
bookblather: Gentleman in a turquoise sombrero staring at camera. (mighty mod chapeau)

[personal profile] bookblather 2015-06-13 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Your story tag has been added!

Wow, that's a picture book? I have to say, I sympathise with the protagonist's desire to just be safe, and the ending, how much fear there is unspoken and unwritten.