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rainbowfic2020-07-27 10:40 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2020-07-27 10:40 pm
Jungle Green #9, Ruby #10
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Solitude
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Jungle Green #9. Snake, Ruby #10. tiny cottage
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 1: Main Stage), photography, tapestry (Jungle Green + novelty beads), canvas, fabric, novelty beads, yarn
Word Count: 470
Rating: R
Characters: Lux
Warnings: References to war/imprisonment/solitary confinement
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
For a while, after Michaela sealed the prison, Lux was almost grateful for the solitude. She needed time to heal, mentally and physically, from the wounds of that last battle.
But the painful, awkward process of healing could only occupy her for so long. So, for a time, she let revenge consume her thoughts; thought of charging after Michaela in all her righteous fury, thought of carving Michaela's wings, so her eldest sibling could know how it felt.
Even her rage, though, began to fade in time.
Plotting her escape--oh, she never stopped doing that, but there were times when it seemed less practical and more something to do with herself, to keep from going mad.
Years ticked by.
It wasn't that she was lonely--Lux was not Gabriel, whose very purpose in life was to speak to other beings; she didn't need anyone; and besides, there were times when beings whispered to her, calling her by other names; and she listened, and sometimes, sometimes, she even managed to whisper something back.
However garbled it might have been.
But as time passed, as she grew to know the walls of her prison cell intimately...well, she would be lying if she tried to claim the isolation of it hadn't begun to weigh on her. If she tried to claim she didn't imagine someone she could speak to at length, not just whisper a word or two now and then through the cracks in her shell, plotting for a future war that would be eons in coming.
Years turned into centuries.
She marked them on the wall for a while, counting the years that would have passed among her people, not the orbit of this rock Michaela had chained her to. But that, too, lost its appeal in time.
Besides, she ran out of wall.
The count kept up in the back of her head, though, day by day by endless, solitary day.
It wasn't that she regretted her uprising--oh, no. It was not in her nature to regret things, and she still believed in her cause. She would, she suspected, until the day she died.
Preferably somewhere other than this rather literal hellhole.
Centuries, in their turn, became millennia.
Still, she kept on. Whispering, plotting, counting. Listening. Watching. Waiting.
Finding ways to fill her days. Finding ways to not feel so--alone.
She didn't put much store in prophecy, but she did have faith, she clung to her faith, that she would someday be free.
It was almost funny, that when that day finally came, when her too-familiar wall with its weathered tickmarks began to shudder and crack--
She wasn't ready. She knew she wasn't ready.
And when the wall collapsed and she drank in free starlight once again, felt the presence of other beings around her--who had gone too far too fast and nearly ruined everything--she felt more alone than ever.
Story: Solitude
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Jungle Green #9. Snake, Ruby #10. tiny cottage
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 1: Main Stage), photography, tapestry (Jungle Green + novelty beads), canvas, fabric, novelty beads, yarn
Word Count: 470
Rating: R
Characters: Lux
Warnings: References to war/imprisonment/solitary confinement
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
For a while, after Michaela sealed the prison, Lux was almost grateful for the solitude. She needed time to heal, mentally and physically, from the wounds of that last battle.
But the painful, awkward process of healing could only occupy her for so long. So, for a time, she let revenge consume her thoughts; thought of charging after Michaela in all her righteous fury, thought of carving Michaela's wings, so her eldest sibling could know how it felt.
Even her rage, though, began to fade in time.
Plotting her escape--oh, she never stopped doing that, but there were times when it seemed less practical and more something to do with herself, to keep from going mad.
Years ticked by.
It wasn't that she was lonely--Lux was not Gabriel, whose very purpose in life was to speak to other beings; she didn't need anyone; and besides, there were times when beings whispered to her, calling her by other names; and she listened, and sometimes, sometimes, she even managed to whisper something back.
However garbled it might have been.
But as time passed, as she grew to know the walls of her prison cell intimately...well, she would be lying if she tried to claim the isolation of it hadn't begun to weigh on her. If she tried to claim she didn't imagine someone she could speak to at length, not just whisper a word or two now and then through the cracks in her shell, plotting for a future war that would be eons in coming.
Years turned into centuries.
She marked them on the wall for a while, counting the years that would have passed among her people, not the orbit of this rock Michaela had chained her to. But that, too, lost its appeal in time.
Besides, she ran out of wall.
The count kept up in the back of her head, though, day by day by endless, solitary day.
It wasn't that she regretted her uprising--oh, no. It was not in her nature to regret things, and she still believed in her cause. She would, she suspected, until the day she died.
Preferably somewhere other than this rather literal hellhole.
Centuries, in their turn, became millennia.
Still, she kept on. Whispering, plotting, counting. Listening. Watching. Waiting.
Finding ways to fill her days. Finding ways to not feel so--alone.
She didn't put much store in prophecy, but she did have faith, she clung to her faith, that she would someday be free.
It was almost funny, that when that day finally came, when her too-familiar wall with its weathered tickmarks began to shudder and crack--
She wasn't ready. She knew she wasn't ready.
And when the wall collapsed and she drank in free starlight once again, felt the presence of other beings around her--who had gone too far too fast and nearly ruined everything--she felt more alone than ever.
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Yeeeeeeeah, for real. Mariko wasn't the first person she met after her escape but once they connected hoo boy that was A Lot for Lux.
As for what Michaela was thinking...Lux transgressed, and imprisoning her is Justice. ...yeah.
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1. "No one in the world ever gets what they want and that is beautiful" -- "Don't Let's Start" by They Might Be Giants
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