shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowsong26) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-07-24 10:34 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2014-07-24 10:34 pm
Entry tags:
English Red #12, English Green #10, Mystic Beach Blue #1
Name: shadowsong26
Story: How to Feel
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: English Red #12. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones. (Julius Caesar, III.ii), English Green #10. Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, not uttered by base sale of chapmen's tongues. (Love's Labours Lost, II.i), Mystic Beach Blue #1. this one
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, miniature collection, pointillism, canvas, frame, brush (silhouette), watercolors, charcoal
Word Count: 389
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tana, Nida
Warnings: Tana, references to parental death, imminent character death
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Last English Red and English Green! (Also, mods, I accidentally tagged paint-by-numbers, could one of you please remove it for me? Thanks!)
When I was a child, to me, Mamma was a goddess--beautiful and still golden, even though she wasn't young anymore, but remote and reserved, and maybe a little bit sad, but always, always loving.
You know, I didn't suspect Mamma for the longest time, even after I heard about my traitor aunt and started to suspect Deva.
But when I learned what she was--well, Mamma was still a goddess then, you know, only an evil one--her very love, that I had always craved, now seemed poisonous.
I don't think I quite knew how to feel when she died--by then I knew she was a traitor, of course, and I loathed her, but little ghosts of the golden goddess of my childhood haunted me.
As the years passed, as Papa made his changes and Kellom shone ever-brighter, Mamma was cast further and further into the darkness, until even those ghosts were gone.
After the war--well, after the war, I barely thought of Mamma for a while, I was too busy running, and then scheming, and then bits and pieces of me were dying away and my world was reduced to these howling walls and my boring sister Keta.
Mamma has been dead for decades, and now I think I won't be long in following, but the truth is--for some reason, I can't stop thinking about her.
If I could go back, I wouldn't save her--she deserved her death, and in my more charitable moments I'm glad that at least it was quick--but I think I'd like to see her again, maybe find a little more of the golden goddess I dreamed of in my childhood in the demonic viper she really was.
I think I understand Mamma a little better now, because--well, in her own way, she lost a war, too, and I know what that's like, even if hers was wrong and mine was right.
I fancy that I saw her sometimes--a sad, golden ghost, wandering the halls of my prison, weeping with me, or for me.
All right, fine, there are traces of the golden goddess (but doesn't that really make her worse) behind the viper, but...I think the point is, even now, when I see her, and I think about her, and I understand her, I still have no idea how to feel about her.
Story: How to Feel
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: English Red #12. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones. (Julius Caesar, III.ii), English Green #10. Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, not uttered by base sale of chapmen's tongues. (Love's Labours Lost, II.i), Mystic Beach Blue #1. this one
Supplies and Materials: bichromatic, miniature collection, pointillism, canvas, frame, brush (silhouette), watercolors, charcoal
Word Count: 389
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tana, Nida
Warnings: Tana, references to parental death, imminent character death
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Last English Red and English Green! (Also, mods, I accidentally tagged paint-by-numbers, could one of you please remove it for me? Thanks!)
When I was a child, to me, Mamma was a goddess--beautiful and still golden, even though she wasn't young anymore, but remote and reserved, and maybe a little bit sad, but always, always loving.
You know, I didn't suspect Mamma for the longest time, even after I heard about my traitor aunt and started to suspect Deva.
But when I learned what she was--well, Mamma was still a goddess then, you know, only an evil one--her very love, that I had always craved, now seemed poisonous.
I don't think I quite knew how to feel when she died--by then I knew she was a traitor, of course, and I loathed her, but little ghosts of the golden goddess of my childhood haunted me.
As the years passed, as Papa made his changes and Kellom shone ever-brighter, Mamma was cast further and further into the darkness, until even those ghosts were gone.
After the war--well, after the war, I barely thought of Mamma for a while, I was too busy running, and then scheming, and then bits and pieces of me were dying away and my world was reduced to these howling walls and my boring sister Keta.
Mamma has been dead for decades, and now I think I won't be long in following, but the truth is--for some reason, I can't stop thinking about her.
If I could go back, I wouldn't save her--she deserved her death, and in my more charitable moments I'm glad that at least it was quick--but I think I'd like to see her again, maybe find a little more of the golden goddess I dreamed of in my childhood in the demonic viper she really was.
I think I understand Mamma a little better now, because--well, in her own way, she lost a war, too, and I know what that's like, even if hers was wrong and mine was right.
I fancy that I saw her sometimes--a sad, golden ghost, wandering the halls of my prison, weeping with me, or for me.
All right, fine, there are traces of the golden goddess (but doesn't that really make her worse) behind the viper, but...I think the point is, even now, when I see her, and I think about her, and I understand her, I still have no idea how to feel about her.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Nope, not really, no.
no subject
I am especially partial to this part: As the years passed, as Papa made his changes and Kellom shone ever-brighter, Mamma was cast further and further into the darkness, until even those ghosts were gone.
Thank you!
no subject
Tana's relationship with her mother is one of my favorites of hers, because it's so complex. This was a fun piece to write.