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)
rainbowfic2015-06-15 02:09 am
crossfortune) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-15 02:09 am
and now you must endure;
Name: Mischa
Story: tales from the drowned world
Colors: halloween orange (an island's not a prison -- that's what men make bridges for), octarine (The trouble is that things never get better, they just stay the same, only more so), verdigris (Place where the window used to be)
Supplies and Styles: fingerpainting, miniature
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: suicidal ideation, depression
Summary: There are many things Rusalka Semik has never been able to have or do, as the sea-god's son. He's given up dreams of ever leaving.
Notes:
...so after all this time, I just realized I never asked for a tag for this story. Oops.
The view from his window never changes, whether sunshine or storm. Always the same, always, always, and Rusalka will never leave Sarantian, never see anything outside this city that is a cage.
No boat will bear him and there are no bridges between islands, too far, too fragile. He will never leave. Once, he dreamed of leaving, once he dreamed of pretty stories, illusions that he could be loved, could be saved, could be anything other than what he is.
(he doesn’t dream anymore, just breathes and waits and waits, and all he asks for is silence that never comes)
Story: tales from the drowned world
Colors: halloween orange (an island's not a prison -- that's what men make bridges for), octarine (The trouble is that things never get better, they just stay the same, only more so), verdigris (Place where the window used to be)
Supplies and Styles: fingerpainting, miniature
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: suicidal ideation, depression
Summary: There are many things Rusalka Semik has never been able to have or do, as the sea-god's son. He's given up dreams of ever leaving.
Notes:
...so after all this time, I just realized I never asked for a tag for this story. Oops.
The view from his window never changes, whether sunshine or storm. Always the same, always, always, and Rusalka will never leave Sarantian, never see anything outside this city that is a cage.
No boat will bear him and there are no bridges between islands, too far, too fragile. He will never leave. Once, he dreamed of leaving, once he dreamed of pretty stories, illusions that he could be loved, could be saved, could be anything other than what he is.
(he doesn’t dream anymore, just breathes and waits and waits, and all he asks for is silence that never comes)
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Also, I like how poetic this is.
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It was hard to write, given how few words I allotted myself. I'm glad the impact wasn't lessened.
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I love this.
Thank you for posting. It's so glassy and /right/ for what it needs to say.
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