#alden.

[etiennev]

"you should have killed me earlier, so i wouldn't live to see this."

"Hey hey, it's not so bad, hm?" He said, clearly amused as the bookish professor referenced back to their earlier discussion. Etienne moved to stand in between himself and the library doors, attempting a mediation.

"I have books at my house. Not exactly the ones we need, but..." Etienne stepped forward, smirking as he plucked a thread off Alden's shoulder, "they're quite interesting... books."

He continues to intercept Alden's attempt to gaze sadly at the "closed for renovations" sign on the library doors: something he'd actually warned Alden of the day before, but the stubborn older man wouldn't hear it.

[secondfortunate]

3.5

H. took his first lungful of air above the surface and basked in the sense of newness and cozy unfamiliarity that seemed to hold him weightless in the water. He was aware of the water droplets beading and running down his face, the cooling of the wind, and the warmth of the sun all at once, and suddenly, aware of the absence on his finger. He felt around him, but the once-comforting embrace of water became suffocating, immeasurable pressure surrounding him from all sides. Finally he looked down, and saw a small spot shining in the deep dark depths of the pond.

He began to swim down, down, down, deeper and deeper into the dark water of the pond at the glimmer of light that seemed to call for him, but the more he swam the tighter the water got. His lungs crushed against his spine as he clawed deeper into the darkness towards the shimmering hope that he was certain he could see, and yet once he wrapped his boney fingers around his ring, he felt nothing but fine silt slip through as if it was never there before. He began to cry; angry, frustrated tears seemed to be squeezed out of him by the pressure, and yet under the water no tears seemed to be shed at all.

He once again felt a hand grab him and pull him above the water, and was once again greeted to the face of Micheal in the sun. "Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked H. earnestly, though H. felt mocked by this. "No," H. said, "it's the same as it's always been." Micheal blinked, and for the first time something other than youthful joy was see on his face. "My ring," H. finally croaked out and began to look down at the disturbed spot of sediment at the bottom of the pond. "My wedding ring. It was given to me by my grandfather, and his father before him, and his father before him."

When H. looked up, he was shocked to see Micheal climbing out of the pond, facing away from him for the first time. "I just wanted to make you happy," Micheal said. With that, he began to walk away from H. despite H.'s shouts and protests. H. found himself swimming faster than he ever had to get to Micheal, but by the time H. got out of the water he was nowhere to be seen. H. turned to face the pond, now blurred to him, and as the hot summer sun set under the shimmering water, H. could hardly find it in him to care that his ring wasn't catching the light on his hand, as it had done dutifully for lifetimes.

[secondfortunate]

3.3

H.'s mind spun flashes of hope and youth mixed with the flickering incandesce the subway lights cast upon him and Micheal as they moved around the subway, away from the platform in which H.'s train home had been left, completely forgotten. Micheal then grabbed onto H.'s hand and pulled him into the bright sun.

H. winced at the bright light, and felt himself stumble backwards towards the long cascade of stairs leading back down to the dark, flickering subway station. H. tensed in preparation of the fall, but soon felt something soft placed at the base of his spine"Easy, old man," Micheal said cooly, with his usual effortless smile always on his lips, "I wouldn't want to see you hurt." H. used Micheal's hand to awkwardly steady himself, as his stiff body groaned in retaliation against his acceptance.

"It's bright," H. said curtly, blinking his unadjusted eyes in an almost futile attempt to see. "Well it's summer," Micheal joked. "It would be a real shame if it wasn't."

[secondfortunate]

3.1 His ring glistened angrily against his tanned skin, a constant reminder of the mistake he'd made. H. hated it. The red thread that had managed to ensnare both H. and the woman had tangled them uncomfortably close, wrapped in a bastardised embrace barely able to breathe. H. drummed his fingers against the table at which he sat, watching as the ring preformed an insouciant dance with the light, completely oblivious to all it has caused.

H. relaxed in this brief moment of solitude before his train arrived and he had to begin his long commute back to his living quarters. He checked the clock flickering above him: "17:34". Four minutes late. He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, exhaling deeply and allowing the white noise of the subway lull him into a state of near-meditation.

The train screamed to a holt, and H. let his eyes slowly flutter open as he winced at the light staring straight at him. As he straightened, he was suddenly made aware of the man straight ahead of him. The man was young, incredibly so, and left H. completely breathless. The young man smiled, baring all of his teeth at H., and introduced himself simply as Micheal. H. rose uncomfortably while staring at the man, at Micheal, and carefully asked why Micheal had decided to sit right across from him. "Simple," Micheal said, his smile still wide, "you looked lonely." H.'s laugh was obscured by the roar of the train's departure, yet only the man's words rang through his ears. So much so that H. hadn't felt his ring vanish at all.

[secondfortunate]

2.4 She ran through the field and let the pearls of laughter fall from her mouth and adorn her skirt until it waved like the ocean in the sun, and continued to run forward as the pearls continued to flow, suffocating her until she couldn’t breathe. Only when she turned around did they stop.

Behind her stood the boy. He caught up to her in the middle of the field, the red tie flowing from his neck and dripping down his back. She raised a single eyebrow at him, expecting him say something to her, and yet he remained motionless as the blades of grass beneath their feet swayed as if trying to coax them together. He stood there, eyeing her skirt and watching the fallen pearls glisten and dance in the wind, completely ignoring her while entirely aware she was still there.

He handed her the daisy shakily and watched as she took it in her fingers and twirled it around, watching as its head formed blurred white streaks as it flowed. He grasped her skilled, slender hand in both of his and croaked “gently, please. It’s delicate.” She smiled at him softly, and more pearls cascaded down her mouth.

[secondfortunate]

1.5

She takes a breath. Her last. She feels her limbs twitch yet she remains locked in a tight ball on the smooth granite floor sticky with red. The tall, writhing cancer of flesh towers over her for just a second longer, as if giving her a chance to bask in Their sheer awesomeness.

And yet, she couldn’t see. She couldn’t revel in Their glory. Her gaze remained fixated on the ground. The small, twitching ball beneath them. They stared at her. She remained motionless.  They stared into her. She remained motionless. They stared straight through her. She remained motionless. And then, They descended upon her. The horrific, cavernous crevice of their mouth enveloped her and she remained motionless. 

~END~

[secondfortunate]

1.3 She watched in an unblinking trance as the… thing continued to grow. She could see its surface pulsating as if it were completely alive, and watched as the skin stretched until it ripped. She watched as from the wound deep, dark blood was cried out and  dripped  onto  the  floor.  She winced, and for a second the tapping stopped. And for a second, the thing stopped. Frozen. She looked down at the pool of blood staining her feet and skin and floor, and she looked up at Them. This wasn’t fair. She was better than Them. She was smarter than Them. She wasn’t Them. Yet, this disfiguring, cancerous Them was on her. It was her.  She continued looking at Them for any type of reaction, but They seemed ever calm. Unwavering. Completely apathetic to the humiliation occurring beneath Them. How dare They? How dare They. How dare they. Anger grew inside of her as she stared up at Them. At them. they were nothing. they were unthinking. She felt the anger fester inside of her. Pulsating. Crawling. Rising. Festering in the innermost parts of her. The hot white of wrath clouded her view of them and a ringing in her ears grew louder and louder and then suddenly, she gasped for air. 

A choked, ugly noise. She wasn’t even aware she was holding he breath, though that was the least of her worries at the moment. Pain. Deep, hot, agonising pain engulfed her entire body except for the cancer. The hot white wrath clouding her view was cooled with her tears as she looked up at them with deep, pleading eyes. She silently begged Them for forgiveness as the pain grew hotter and hotter on everything except the Them that was on her. 

[secondfortunate]

1.1 Her muscles screamed against the movement, but she knew it must be done. As she took her first steps forward she was aware of the eyes staring at her. Unblinking. Unfazed. Completely aware of the horrors about to pour from her mouth and yet They remained completely still. Calm. She could hear Their heartbeats. Slow. Quiet. Rhythmic. Almost lulling her into a trance as she continued her slow walk up to The Stand. Her body sagged under the weight of Their judgement, and yet she persisted. Them. Those misshapen piles of flesh and eyes that seemed almost indifferent to the proceedings before them. They watched her limp forward, They watched her feet drag across the polished floor, They listened to her wheeze with each heavy step forward, They watched her make her way to The Stage. And as a reward for Their everlasting patience, she was there. Standing exactly centerstage for all of Them to judge her. And the trial commenced.