#deadmuse

[jaguardelta]

A Witch, A Dead Muse and Taciturn Spirits Color V by Davidjulianlopez

[mercurymorningband]

#interdit #albumart #coverart #mercurymorning #autumn #conceptart #inspiration #deadmuse

[anythingbutapuppet]

// Long overdue musings

So, to those of you who care or follow or both x3 I'm debating whether to revive this blog. It would be hard and I would essentially be restarting from the beginning as I have lost a lot of the rp style I used. But! If you could cope with that, then I will try my best to get my muse awake and stuff :3 Take care you all xxx

[andrewwilde-blog]

Just a Dream

{Baby why'd you  l e a v e  me}

She sat there. Waiting. Watching. Thinking. Trying not to think.

Was it over yet?

Was this thing that clawed at her still beating heart finally finished?

Blue eyes scanned the seat next on her left, searching the other person's eyes for an answer. Brown eyes turned to her for split second before Robbie's hand found hers, squeezing it gently in comfort as he shook his head slowly. 

                                                           No.

Ashtyn didn't have the strength to pull away. Didn't have the strength to watch the ceremony that played out before the cousins, their friends, and their families- because he no longer had one of his own.

And now they no longer had him.                                                                                          {Why'd you have to go?}

The cold from metal chair underneath her sent shivers down her spine. Or was that the funeral song playing in the background? Ashtyn didn't know.

She didn't know a lot of things a that moment.

Like the emotions that coursed through her veins- today and last Monday when the news came and all the days in between. Was it anger or grief? Confusion or acceptance? None or all of the above? Her initial reaction had been disbelief. There was no possibly way he could be gone.

                                        No physically possible way in hell.

His powers- his mutant powers should have prevented it. They should have stopped it from k i l l i n g  h i m.

                                                                                Key word: should have.

{I was counting on  f o r e v e r , now I'll never know}

Distraction. That had been her main focus over the past week. Distraction. Distraction. Distraction. Don't think about it. Can't think about it.

Don't think about it-

          His eyes shining bright

                         His lips on yours

                                           His hands in yours

                                                              His strong arms holding you close

                                                                                 Keeping you safe and calm

                                                                                                   Don't think about it.

Distractions were easy. Simple. Kept her away from the pain and the constant tears that wanted to fall. They came in lots of forms.

Books. Can't read that one. It was his favorite.

                    Movies. No. I fell asleep watching that with him.

                                              Photos. Never. Photographs are always a reminder.

                                                              Exercising. Uh uh. He would do that all the time.

                                                                                                      Sleep- yes.

{I can't even breathe}

Sleep would have worked. But sleep could mean many things.

Happy memories that made Ashtyn cry when she woke up because it was no longer there.

Nightmares where she imagined him getting shot at and beat up and  k i l l e d. She would wake screaming not from the horrors she had witnessed in her dream but because they were  t r u e.

Astral plane. Ashtyn could roam for hours and hours on end there now. It was numbing. A breath of fresh air among the overwhelming feeling of lost on the Earth plane.

The blue there wasn't sad anymore

The shadows there weren't scary anymore.

The emptiness was ironically no longer lonely.

                                        {It's like I'm looking from a distance}

Her mind wandered its way back to the scene before her, and this time it was her hand that squeezed and not Robbie's. She didn't dare look at the casket or the flag that was folded, ready to be handed to her cousin.

Instead, her eyes found Kat's- Kat who's eyes were hidden behind black sunglasses on the sunny Tuesday. Why is it not pouring rain? The PA gave her a ghost of a smile from the very back of the funeral: one of comfort.

                                                                                                              {Standing in the background}

Her blue eyes move back to the front. Move but don't stay. She wants to leave. She wants this to be over. She wants to get out here and pretend this never happened.

Because how the hell could he just be gone?

How could he have just died?

She doesn't understand. Ashtyn Stark-Rogers has slowly begun to realize that she doesn't know everything, can't make sense of everything, can't grasp even the briefs strands of every concept in the entire world.

Then why are you called the Mentalist?

{Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now}

'Cause he's not. The ceremony comes to a close, and Ashtyn tries to bolt out of there as fast as possible. But Robbie's still sitting there, flag in hand, not moving.

And people are gathering around her, giving condolences she doesn't want to hear. Friends making there way to her to ask if she's okay. Other people pretending to have known the young soldier give out fake statements.

Statements that ring true.

But are read off lying tongues.

Tongues that could have saved him.

                                                  {This can't be happening to me}

So, she scurries her way out of the crowd, mumbling soft apologies and "excuse me"'s before finding her fathers and dragging them back to the car.

They don't question it when she asks if they can make a pit stop before they arrive at the Tower.

A pit stop to a small house in Brooklyn.

A small house where a younger soldier used to live.

A young soldier who had-

Eyes that shone bright

                         Lips that would kiss yours

                                           Hands that would hold yours

                                                              Strong arms that would keep you close,

                                                                                        Keep you safe and calm.

It was empty save for the old photo she had dropped off the other day.

A photo of him, goofing of with Robbie and Alice and Ashtyn.

A photo of his smile.

A tear fell on the photo.

                                                                                                                            {This is just a dream}

[jessicalaurenyuppa]

Okay

To this spectral you replied-

“I am all right.”

And though you spared

Not one lonesome verb more

I am glad to have made

The ascent from the grave