Seams are torn, vinyl comes undone against oppositional force, and there on the ground lies the remains of memories Ellen might never understand. Magic, coming from a place inside which has no home in her. Gods and fathers she knows nothing of, born to a world too rigid, too banausic to allow for any meaningful spirituality.
She won't forget her place on stage.
Ripley spends the next several days holed up underground, knocking away at the earth for its most valuable ore and thinking only of the stone she'd torn from Fever's bludgeoned person. The taste of blood persists— enough to make her contemplate visiting the local doctor.
She doesn't.
The metal in the air, she tells herself. That's all.
A week passes before she's able to carve away the time she needs for answers. At the tail-end of that week, Ellen finds herself visiting the Temple.
no subject
Seams are torn, vinyl comes undone against oppositional force, and there on the ground lies the remains of memories Ellen might never understand. Magic, coming from a place inside which has no home in her. Gods and fathers she knows nothing of, born to a world too rigid, too banausic to allow for any meaningful spirituality.
She won't forget her place on stage.
Ripley spends the next several days holed up underground, knocking away at the earth for its most valuable ore and thinking only of the stone she'd torn from Fever's bludgeoned person. The taste of blood persists— enough to make her contemplate visiting the local doctor.
She doesn't.
The metal in the air, she tells herself. That's all.
A week passes before she's able to carve away the time she needs for answers. At the tail-end of that week, Ellen finds herself visiting the Temple.
"Hi— is now a good time?"