IP: 120.149.119.230
Posted on January 6, 2014 at 04:26:03 AM by e d e n
how long will we blame the devils on our shoulders
Today, I would be Eden. Perhaps she is oblivious to it, many are, but she has intrigued me. She does not cower away as a nervous child would and yet, she does not charge about as a pigheaded adult. It is odd to encounter one that does not fit into my two preordained categories - she does not even fit with Bolelyn or Magnus.
Look with me. For a moment, I simply watch her, or continue to do so at least. I remain silent, frowning so slightly - it is a break in the usual flatness of my features, an inkling that I am, indeed, confused by her request. It has never been asked of me. Nobody has asked me to do something so strange with them before.
I refrain from being cautious, nodding once and finally as I step forward to the water's shoreline. The tips of my toes dare to touch the cool water as my eyes search the ripples and calm. Beyond it all, there is a reflection of myself - I see the smooth lines of my face, the hard stare of my own eyes. I see it all, and I am unsure as to how I feel. It has been so long since I have gazed at myself, not since my face was disproportionate and young. There is much of my mother within my features and yet, other remnants of another seem to break through them. I recognise them and yet, I cannot quite remember the name. I am thankful for when she speaks, her strange words forcing me to look away and towards her. Chaos, strife, she speaks of much and yet, I find I cannot understand. Maybe, after all, there is much to learn from she who does not fit the molds.
"I do not feel as my reflection for it is weak. It moves with the water, not against. Do you feel as your reflection does? Pliable, easily moved."
It is what I understand, that is all. Water can be strong, but it is not the reflection of one's self that is strong. A reflection is only strong when the water is weak, no? I am not as such. I am, wish to be, strong no matter how powerful the torrent is. The reflection is only a shadow of me - I snort, smirking over my own reflection as I gaze back down at it. Again, it is she that brings my attention away rather than myself - another oddity. It is usually I that controls a situation, a conversation and I am... baffled. I feel my ears flatten back instinctively as I turn once more to her, my eyes meeting hers and staring into them. I shan't break eye contact, not till the moment she does for it is the way that I have been taught: it shows that I am in control, or at least desire to be so.
"Nosce te ipsum."
Know thyself. Perhaps others call her mad but such a decision remains up to her. There are many who speak dark words about my mother, about her children, and yet we refuse to allow such words to become us. I shall not merely be the son of Ava, the bastard child of an Assassin. Words are simply vibrations of air, nothing more. I raise a brow at her name. Said brow raises even higher when she asks for my own name, and I again frown, my ears leaning further and further back. My name has been spoken to no other since my mother spoke it. No other knows it save Solaris, who had been sworn into silence. I am the garden of Eden but I have not bloomed yet - I am not ready to be seen. Though I am Eden today, she shan't be permitted to hear those vibrations.
"Castor."
I relax my features, feeling as if a very weight has been removed from my shoulders; I look almost content, re-positioning myself so that I may sit beside her, though I keep my distance always.
"Mistletoe. It is good luck, they say. Does it being your name make you such a thing - are you good luck?"
A question for a question; I cock my head, the corners of my lips turning up into a mischievous grin.
and pose like angels on the outside
Look with me. For a moment, I simply watch her, or continue to do so at least. I remain silent, frowning so slightly - it is a break in the usual flatness of my features, an inkling that I am, indeed, confused by her request. It has never been asked of me. Nobody has asked me to do something so strange with them before.
I refrain from being cautious, nodding once and finally as I step forward to the water's shoreline. The tips of my toes dare to touch the cool water as my eyes search the ripples and calm. Beyond it all, there is a reflection of myself - I see the smooth lines of my face, the hard stare of my own eyes. I see it all, and I am unsure as to how I feel. It has been so long since I have gazed at myself, not since my face was disproportionate and young. There is much of my mother within my features and yet, other remnants of another seem to break through them. I recognise them and yet, I cannot quite remember the name. I am thankful for when she speaks, her strange words forcing me to look away and towards her. Chaos, strife, she speaks of much and yet, I find I cannot understand. Maybe, after all, there is much to learn from she who does not fit the molds.
"I do not feel as my reflection for it is weak. It moves with the water, not against. Do you feel as your reflection does? Pliable, easily moved."
It is what I understand, that is all. Water can be strong, but it is not the reflection of one's self that is strong. A reflection is only strong when the water is weak, no? I am not as such. I am, wish to be, strong no matter how powerful the torrent is. The reflection is only a shadow of me - I snort, smirking over my own reflection as I gaze back down at it. Again, it is she that brings my attention away rather than myself - another oddity. It is usually I that controls a situation, a conversation and I am... baffled. I feel my ears flatten back instinctively as I turn once more to her, my eyes meeting hers and staring into them. I shan't break eye contact, not till the moment she does for it is the way that I have been taught: it shows that I am in control, or at least desire to be so.
"Nosce te ipsum."
Know thyself. Perhaps others call her mad but such a decision remains up to her. There are many who speak dark words about my mother, about her children, and yet we refuse to allow such words to become us. I shall not merely be the son of Ava, the bastard child of an Assassin. Words are simply vibrations of air, nothing more. I raise a brow at her name. Said brow raises even higher when she asks for my own name, and I again frown, my ears leaning further and further back. My name has been spoken to no other since my mother spoke it. No other knows it save Solaris, who had been sworn into silence. I am the garden of Eden but I have not bloomed yet - I am not ready to be seen. Though I am Eden today, she shan't be permitted to hear those vibrations.
"Castor."
I relax my features, feeling as if a very weight has been removed from my shoulders; I look almost content, re-positioning myself so that I may sit beside her, though I keep my distance always.
"Mistletoe. It is good luck, they say. Does it being your name make you such a thing - are you good luck?"
A question for a question; I cock my head, the corners of my lips turning up into a mischievous grin.
when all i am is a monster
Replies:
- Am I A Blessing or A Curse - By Mistletoe January 6, 2014 at 10:50:37 PM
it doesn't exist if you can hide it behind your teeth. - By e d e n January 10, 2014 at 12:14:38 PM
Am I A Blessing or A Curse - By Mistletoe January 16, 2014 at 05:52:36 PM
it doesn't exist if you can hide it behind your teeth. - By e d e n January 19, 2014 at 08:40:40 AM
Am I A Blessing or A Curse - By Mistletoe January 19, 2014 at 04:15:19 PM
it doesn't exist if you can hide it behind your teeth. - By e d e n January 28, 2014 at 11:38:55 AM
Am I A Blessing or A Curse - By Mistletoe January 28, 2014 at 05:03:37 PM
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