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rainbowfic2014-01-06 11:33 pm
thelinesoflearning) wrote in rainbowfic2014-01-06 11:33 pm
Halloween Orange, Skyblue Pink w/ Striped Polka Dots, Pearls of Wisdom
Name: Morgan
Story: we did not come to fool you
Colors: Halloween Orange 30, "Be wicked and lovely and don't live in fear."; Skyblue Pink with Striped Polka Dots 2, 2. “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than you.”; Pearls of Wisdom 7, "Live your life as an exclamation, not an explanation."
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (I'll have seconds)
Word Count: 606
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: There's a section that deals with sexual assault, generally abusive treatment of people including people treating themselves that way, and murder of sexual assaulters. It's skimmed over pretty lightly, but it's also very much there. Also, playing VERY fast and loose with Christian mythology.
Notes: Need a story tag, please. I am so glad I finally wrote about this girl, though. She is the angel of bodily pleasures, and I adore her even if I'm not entirely sure what's going on in her universe. Also I did not mean to do the second person challenge twice. I just really like second person
You are born wanting to touch everything, everyone. You are born a slave to your hands and your wants.
You are born laughing.
Some of the other angels trip over their feet. Some of them don't know what to do when they turn from impulse and air into bodies. They don't understand how to be more than the ideas they embody, they don't know how to deal with this sudden onslaught of sensation on top of their drives.
You have never had that problem. You were nothing when you were all impulse, you barely existed. But with a body to enclose you, you are set free.
You run and jump and kiss and dance and sing and laugh and fuck and stretch and tumble and twirl. You move and you touch, and every touch is holy.
Your elders call you the Bright One, for your laugh and the look in your eye, and you kiss them in thanks.
*
You are Namaah when you set your feet upon the first world, old enough for a name and still so young. You dance, and stir up the dust of the world with the touch of your feet. You touch the trees and teach them to move. You create new bodies from your sheer will, from your want to have someone there to touch you in return.
You teach the people what you taught the angels that let you help. You teach them to move. You teach them to find the beauty in their bodies.
You learn to love the sound of your name when you've made someone breathless. You wonder what it feels like, to not be able to breathe. You imagine it feels as wonderful as laughing.
*
When they make a new world, they decide this time you will hide. They create bodies, and they draw a line. They are not angels, and they can't know you are.
You don't understand, because their bodies feel the same around yours, they move the same as yours. They get breathless, they get tired, where you can keep moving forever if you want to, but other than that? It seems the same.
You don't question. You name yourself in their language, wrap Amelia around you like a cloak until you forget that Namaah is supposed to be somebody else. You have never been good at lies. Your body reveals the truth every time.
*
You are still young when you start to learn that not everything is good.
You learn that breathlessness can come from fear instead of wonder. You learn that running until you fall over isn't always something to celebrate. You learn that people can be forced to dance.
You learn that some people will take touch when it's not offered, and the thought of it burns your blood. You learn what anger feels like that day, and you turn to other angels to learn what to do now.
Anger does nothing to dull your shine. They call you lovely, even when their blood is on your hands.
*
Some worlds down the line, when you are still younger than you will be and you are not as young as you once were, they begin telling people about angels again. They don't tell them that you're among them, only that you exist. People draw divisions, people draw lines. They try to hold you to their own peculiar moralities. They create new names for the angels that don't fit their definition of goodness.
They don't understand their bodies, and so they decide they aren't holy. They think touching is wrong. They think you are wrong, for letting your body drive you and trying to show them how to listen to theirs.
They call you a demon, and you laugh.
Story: we did not come to fool you
Colors: Halloween Orange 30, "Be wicked and lovely and don't live in fear."; Skyblue Pink with Striped Polka Dots 2, 2. “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than you.”; Pearls of Wisdom 7, "Live your life as an exclamation, not an explanation."
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti (I'll have seconds)
Word Count: 606
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: There's a section that deals with sexual assault, generally abusive treatment of people including people treating themselves that way, and murder of sexual assaulters. It's skimmed over pretty lightly, but it's also very much there. Also, playing VERY fast and loose with Christian mythology.
Notes: Need a story tag, please. I am so glad I finally wrote about this girl, though. She is the angel of bodily pleasures, and I adore her even if I'm not entirely sure what's going on in her universe. Also I did not mean to do the second person challenge twice. I just really like second person
You are born wanting to touch everything, everyone. You are born a slave to your hands and your wants.
You are born laughing.
Some of the other angels trip over their feet. Some of them don't know what to do when they turn from impulse and air into bodies. They don't understand how to be more than the ideas they embody, they don't know how to deal with this sudden onslaught of sensation on top of their drives.
You have never had that problem. You were nothing when you were all impulse, you barely existed. But with a body to enclose you, you are set free.
You run and jump and kiss and dance and sing and laugh and fuck and stretch and tumble and twirl. You move and you touch, and every touch is holy.
Your elders call you the Bright One, for your laugh and the look in your eye, and you kiss them in thanks.
*
You are Namaah when you set your feet upon the first world, old enough for a name and still so young. You dance, and stir up the dust of the world with the touch of your feet. You touch the trees and teach them to move. You create new bodies from your sheer will, from your want to have someone there to touch you in return.
You teach the people what you taught the angels that let you help. You teach them to move. You teach them to find the beauty in their bodies.
You learn to love the sound of your name when you've made someone breathless. You wonder what it feels like, to not be able to breathe. You imagine it feels as wonderful as laughing.
*
When they make a new world, they decide this time you will hide. They create bodies, and they draw a line. They are not angels, and they can't know you are.
You don't understand, because their bodies feel the same around yours, they move the same as yours. They get breathless, they get tired, where you can keep moving forever if you want to, but other than that? It seems the same.
You don't question. You name yourself in their language, wrap Amelia around you like a cloak until you forget that Namaah is supposed to be somebody else. You have never been good at lies. Your body reveals the truth every time.
*
You are still young when you start to learn that not everything is good.
You learn that breathlessness can come from fear instead of wonder. You learn that running until you fall over isn't always something to celebrate. You learn that people can be forced to dance.
You learn that some people will take touch when it's not offered, and the thought of it burns your blood. You learn what anger feels like that day, and you turn to other angels to learn what to do now.
Anger does nothing to dull your shine. They call you lovely, even when their blood is on your hands.
*
Some worlds down the line, when you are still younger than you will be and you are not as young as you once were, they begin telling people about angels again. They don't tell them that you're among them, only that you exist. People draw divisions, people draw lines. They try to hold you to their own peculiar moralities. They create new names for the angels that don't fit their definition of goodness.
They don't understand their bodies, and so they decide they aren't holy. They think touching is wrong. They think you are wrong, for letting your body drive you and trying to show them how to listen to theirs.
They call you a demon, and you laugh.
no subject
You learn that people can be forced to dance is my favourite line. Namaah enjoys dancing, and yet, the goodness associated with it is simply ripped away. I liked that you connected something the character enjoyed doing and believed to be good with something bad. To see how they learned that life wasn't all rainbows through something that they cherished is heartbreaking.
no subject
... and that was a ramble, whoops, but anyway, thank you for the comments and for reading. I'm glad you liked it!