#lightsiide

[bade-wavewar]

Malachite

Malachite: Has someone ever been poisonous/toxic to your life?

Not sure, perhaps they have been, and I simply haven’t noticed. Not even sure how that would feel. What they would do to be poisonous and/or toxic. Pretty sure this question shouldn’t confuse me as much as it does. 

[artisticfade]

@lightsiide | we are the young volcanoes

akaides steps into the sunlight and glows like a beacon, his clothes clean and pale, hair blonde and still dripping from the shower he’s just gotten out of, his energy high and pulsing around him, his eyes bright and peering into the sky above him, mirror shades of blue. the world they’ve landed on is green and leafy, another forested planet like eedit, where the trees stretch their long trunks into the clouds, holding thousands of years in their rings, and the populace live in treehouses high above the ground. he has no idea why the derelict has landed on this place, what business there is to be had here, but he’s grateful.

down here, the aching expanse of the universe is nothing more than a nightmare to forget, so he lightly taps the arm of aodhan playfully as he passes him in the cargo bay, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips. “there will be a stream somewhere nearby,” he says, as though that’s the highlight of their visit here, as though the water sources of this planet are the only things that stay on akaides’ mind more permanently than his own name. as though he needs the presence of the universal life-giving liquid to tether himself back into his own body, his spirit lost without the ebb and flow of it. “come find it with me. we can practice sparring out there as well.”

sparring, which isn’t something they get to do much of anymore, constantly cooped up inside this horrible metal coffin together with so many other people, so many curious eyes, and the captain, who seems to hate lightsabers more than he hates his own crew—which seems to be substantial. out here, out in the world, out in the green and blue, the grass and sky, they can find their centerfold again, they can apply the truth of their arts without worrying about putting a hole through the spaceship and accidentally killing everyone. “whatever you’re doing, it’s not as important. come,” he coos, his eyes glittering as he snickers. “i promise not to beat you too badly this time.”