the androgynous keeper of plushfrogs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crossfortune) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2015-05-28 01:12 pm
crossfortune) wrote in rainbowfic2015-05-28 01:12 pm
Entry tags:
something that was left behind;
Name: Mischa
Story: as if words could be undone
Colors: octarine (When the least they could do to you was everything, then the most they could do to you suddenly held no terror), halloween orange (I was a little more than they expected), verdigris (and no one remembers this place anymore)
Supplies and Styles: canvas
Word Count: 219
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: child abuse, (past) suicidal ideation, depression.
Summary: Mira's backstory, or at least part of it.
Notes: ...still couldn't figure out how to end it.
All Zora’s children come from somewhere else: they don’t talk about their former lives, much, before Zora found them and loved them, before they knew their true natures and became other people. Mikha is the most forthcoming, and she was a thief in a town by the sea, fast with a knife and faster with a harsh word. His two other sisters and his brother are varying degrees of silent, and Mira is the most silent of all. He loves these siblings, as much as he doesn’t miss the ones he left behind a lifetime ago, but there are things he will never speak of.
(he lets them think he was a bard, a musician, a wanderer: his penchant for music and being as fast with a knife as Mikha. He smiles and plays and lies)
He remembers the boy in the tower, alone in the dark, who was never good enough: never perfect and never loved. Who knew he would never be good enough, who subsided into silence and tried with all his heart to desire nothing, to be nothing, to be empty. Who died alone in the dark and silence (those dancing on puppet strings will never, ever fall) and became someone else.
Something left behind, a lifetime ago. Mira sings and smiles, and doesn't look back.
Story: as if words could be undone
Colors: octarine (When the least they could do to you was everything, then the most they could do to you suddenly held no terror), halloween orange (I was a little more than they expected), verdigris (and no one remembers this place anymore)
Supplies and Styles: canvas
Word Count: 219
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: child abuse, (past) suicidal ideation, depression.
Summary: Mira's backstory, or at least part of it.
Notes: ...still couldn't figure out how to end it.
All Zora’s children come from somewhere else: they don’t talk about their former lives, much, before Zora found them and loved them, before they knew their true natures and became other people. Mikha is the most forthcoming, and she was a thief in a town by the sea, fast with a knife and faster with a harsh word. His two other sisters and his brother are varying degrees of silent, and Mira is the most silent of all. He loves these siblings, as much as he doesn’t miss the ones he left behind a lifetime ago, but there are things he will never speak of.
(he lets them think he was a bard, a musician, a wanderer: his penchant for music and being as fast with a knife as Mikha. He smiles and plays and lies)
He remembers the boy in the tower, alone in the dark, who was never good enough: never perfect and never loved. Who knew he would never be good enough, who subsided into silence and tried with all his heart to desire nothing, to be nothing, to be empty. Who died alone in the dark and silence (those dancing on puppet strings will never, ever fall) and became someone else.
Something left behind, a lifetime ago. Mira sings and smiles, and doesn't look back.