Mithos Yggdrasill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
imatreenow) wrote2013-06-06 07:39 pm
imatreenow) wrote2013-06-06 07:39 pm
twenty [action]
[Almost a week ago Mithos had returned from a mission, the first he'd ever volunteered for. It may have seemed a strange choice for someone who trusted no one, who loathed being a pawn for others, to submit himself as a lab rat for combat testing, but his choices are narrowing around him. There is something he is after. Something he can finally close his fingers around, after watching it all scream past him for so long. If he is going to be used by the Malnosso regardless of his choices, it is better that he gains something from it - which he'd had to remind himself many times to dampen the sour taste sitting in the back of his throat.
Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.
Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]
Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.
Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]
ugh sorry
Fine! [He doesn't lower the knife, but he carefully steps back to show he never wanted to be here.] Fine...I don't even care what you think! [The quickest way to tear this confrontation down...] Just leave me alone, both of you!
/snugs Kath forever
His head ducks to hide his face in Frey's chest, shoulders hunched as though he were starting to curl into himself. And perhaps he was, if his hands weren't gripping so tightly onto Frey's arms as he trembled; if he was hurting the older man, he didn't notice. Not when strangled noises managed to escape and he felt so sick, clinging to this man who was his only anchor right now.
Looking at Mithos at this very moment was unthinkable, not when he felt he would only hurt so much worse if he did. The pain he was feeling right now wasn't his alone, and it was so much more than he could handle even as the earth began to calm down. To look at Mithos would mean inviting his heart to try to take on as much of his anguish as he could, and he couldn't bear it anymore as he trembled more violently, wanting to scream but being unable to.]
/snugs you both
Mithos was backing down. Aleos... Aleos wasn't going to attack anyone, not now. Both of them were hurting, but he couldn't solve these pains. This meeting was something he'd sought to avoid because of it.
He turns his head, glancing at Mithos out of the corner of his eyes with a sad look. He wished.....] I'm sorry, Mithos.
[He wished Mithos wasn't so dead set on tearing himself.... and everyone else, apart. He wished things had ended differently, back then. He wishes there was a solution that could ease things now. But 'I'm sorry' was all he could offer at the moment, when Mithos rejected everyone around him.]
/snugs all around
You can say that as many times as you like...it still doesn't change anything.
[He continues to back up. The earth has calmed beneath his feet, but he can still feel the tremors deep inside him. A few yards away he turns, flipping the knife's blade away, and he runs. He has nowhere to go but an empty house where he can only try to hide from the ugly monsters howling inside him. All he needs is to not be found.
Alone, again. Always. Maybe he was always alone. A fool for thinking otherwise.]