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)
rainbowfic2015-06-28 08:09 pm
crossfortune) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-28 08:09 pm
a revelation in the light of day;
Name: Mischa
Story: tales from the drowned world
Colors: verdigris (bits of pottery and glass), bistre (genius requires an audience),
Supplies and Styles: graffiti (the self-insert challenge), canvas
Word Count: 169
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A, I think
Summary: Myca Valeth has a dream: and in this dream, he meets a most curious young man.
Myca dreams of walking down a long hallway of mirrored glass and harnessed lightning, his image reflected back a thousand times, light dancing off the edge of the glass. Somewhere, far away, he can hear someone singing, soft and clear.
The hallway opens into another room, more glass reflecting back, the light soft and dim.
Standing in the center of the room is a slender young man, dressed all in black, with short dark hair and slightly almond-shaped dark eyes hidden behind slim, square spectacles, holding a large book in his arms. Beneath his booted feet, shards of broken mirror glimmer, glass like fallen stars, and a large, green cloth frog sits on his shoulder.
(there is power in him, if not quite the same kind of power as his father: both lesser and greater.)
The young man meets his eyes and smiles, sadly, and opens the book. “I’m sorry,” he says, as the ink runs like tears down the pages, swirling into nothing. “I’m so very sorry.”
Story: tales from the drowned world
Colors: verdigris (bits of pottery and glass), bistre (genius requires an audience),
Supplies and Styles: graffiti (the self-insert challenge), canvas
Word Count: 169
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: N/A, I think
Summary: Myca Valeth has a dream: and in this dream, he meets a most curious young man.
Myca dreams of walking down a long hallway of mirrored glass and harnessed lightning, his image reflected back a thousand times, light dancing off the edge of the glass. Somewhere, far away, he can hear someone singing, soft and clear.
The hallway opens into another room, more glass reflecting back, the light soft and dim.
Standing in the center of the room is a slender young man, dressed all in black, with short dark hair and slightly almond-shaped dark eyes hidden behind slim, square spectacles, holding a large book in his arms. Beneath his booted feet, shards of broken mirror glimmer, glass like fallen stars, and a large, green cloth frog sits on his shoulder.
(there is power in him, if not quite the same kind of power as his father: both lesser and greater.)
The young man meets his eyes and smiles, sadly, and opens the book. “I’m sorry,” he says, as the ink runs like tears down the pages, swirling into nothing. “I’m so very sorry.”