[xenofic] Run.
Apr. 1st, 2004 02:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coronaviridae(OOC: Rapid change of venue = new post.)
panic
run
The Song of Songs, that should have been there--which had been there, the last time his heart was pounding this fast--was not there, not there, not there, the air was empty of all melody except for the wind running fingers through his snow white hair, howling past him as he ran, and there were the people too, the crowded press of hearts and minds that any other day he would have wound around his claws as a child plays with yarn to make a cat's cradle but the cat is out of the bag now and the cradle's been upset by the hand that should have rocked it and the man ruling the world is unfit to oversee the child and so he runs.
back up this alley remember a girl you saw (her fear as sweet as sugar on your tongue) and this is the place you spilled a man's blood two years ago and laughed when it spattered on your boots and
He bodychecks a Realian, sending her stumbling, bags going everywhere; another person would apologize but he is not any other person he is a wolf a hunter a guardian of sparrows and they are endangered and besides why should he apologize to these nothings these pure spirits who were not born of a woman's womb and deserve only death and reunion with the pleroma the spiritual unconsciousness and shadows on the walls of the cave that spawned an archetype that killed a girl's lover and is tempting his brother to meet with a black cat known only for breaking the backs of sparrows and leaving them to die because of the traitor with red hair.
up and over the fence the razor wire cuts your palms above the crimson numbers (six six seven it all adds up to nineteen and yes this whole situation has gone nineteen, gunslinger) and the pain is sweet as honey on your heart but you do not have time to
"Stupid Realian! Somebody get the control codes--he's gone mad!" But of course he has but they are fourteen years too late to stop this particular Realian who is not really a Realian at all but a related species that is above them as man is above monkeys or rather as god is above man for he is god a god in embryo who for a moment touched power and felt it sing through his veins even as the blood now sings and the air stings in his lungs like the memory of a bad dream but still he is running the simple act of running, the smooth integration of body and blood and bone into a single seamless machine that is more machine than the cyborg and more human than any of them, a perfect chain, an infinity contained in one white-haired package that is running not for his life which is a meaningless concept but instead someone else's.
there it's a mile to the docks do you remember how you used to run as a child and challenge them all because you could push the farthest past your endurance and how the air burned in your lungs and you ran a five-minute mile once can you do it again but wait here is another person and you must
It would take too much time to knock the shopper down, so he dodges around her with fluid inhuman agility, still running still feeling his pulse and thinking thinking thinking hard reaching out to the little girl the not-girl the cherry brandy locked in a hold on a ship that is now three-quarters of a mile away a distance that is rapidly closing like the gap between heaven and earth if you deign to skip up the rungs of Jacob's Ladder like true lightning or perhaps have the hubris to construct a tower to challenge man and God and then you learn the inevitable truth that growing closer to that same truth means you become incoherent and cannot share it with those you love like the person trapped alone on that ship he is running to the sparrow with bound wings who it had taken him so long to find again after far too many years that stretch out like distance that is only half a mile now.
another fence this one made of energy do you remember how we did this before (atoms there is more space between them than the vastness of the universe's true form) and go through the fence just step through remember the crackle and searing the agony that says that you are real and on the other side and running again did anyone notice perhaps you should
They don't see him--mercifully--as he goes through the energy fence, body disintegrating and reforming as he does for that is a trick that only he is blessed with and there are very few who would recognize him for what he is but more than half live on this planet or in that blasted lotus that spreads its petals among the stars and showers them down by the caprice of the black cat batting its paws against them his green eyes gleaming with malicious hunger as he closes on the drugged and drunken sparrow for even if he does not want to eat the sparrow he will still steal it away, for he is greedy and cruel and a keeper of secrets, and secrets pervert the heart, even unintentional secrets like the world he's seen spreading like a lotus among the minds and hearts of men, the world he does not have the language to speak of.
there is the berth recognize the registry well then run like hell man because you still need to break in is that fuel you smell on the breeze and the undertones of mint (from the mind of a girl pale and silent as the silver moon) and mint smells like
BETRAYAL he can read it in the way the door is now locked but it was not, the mechanism went from open to closed a changing line not so long ago, because of six and six and nine again the most slithery of the changing lines and the yarrow sticks fall to point the way to a traitor in his mind, a coin spins on a table and flips and falls face up and once more and face up and once more and face up a statistical improbability but he is beyond life and death so what does that say, it says he could keep circling this ship of sparrows for aeons and never grow tired and never grow faint but he does not have forever for someone is endangered and he needs to break his way in.
you can see the door is locked but it should be nothing to what you know break in and show him you meant business before
He brought a girl a girl a girl that wise old black cat always keeping a vixen or two or three around and you know just what to do, don't you?
panic
run
The Song of Songs, that should have been there--which had been there, the last time his heart was pounding this fast--was not there, not there, not there, the air was empty of all melody except for the wind running fingers through his snow white hair, howling past him as he ran, and there were the people too, the crowded press of hearts and minds that any other day he would have wound around his claws as a child plays with yarn to make a cat's cradle but the cat is out of the bag now and the cradle's been upset by the hand that should have rocked it and the man ruling the world is unfit to oversee the child and so he runs.
back up this alley remember a girl you saw (her fear as sweet as sugar on your tongue) and this is the place you spilled a man's blood two years ago and laughed when it spattered on your boots and
He bodychecks a Realian, sending her stumbling, bags going everywhere; another person would apologize but he is not any other person he is a wolf a hunter a guardian of sparrows and they are endangered and besides why should he apologize to these nothings these pure spirits who were not born of a woman's womb and deserve only death and reunion with the pleroma the spiritual unconsciousness and shadows on the walls of the cave that spawned an archetype that killed a girl's lover and is tempting his brother to meet with a black cat known only for breaking the backs of sparrows and leaving them to die because of the traitor with red hair.
up and over the fence the razor wire cuts your palms above the crimson numbers (six six seven it all adds up to nineteen and yes this whole situation has gone nineteen, gunslinger) and the pain is sweet as honey on your heart but you do not have time to
"Stupid Realian! Somebody get the control codes--he's gone mad!" But of course he has but they are fourteen years too late to stop this particular Realian who is not really a Realian at all but a related species that is above them as man is above monkeys or rather as god is above man for he is god a god in embryo who for a moment touched power and felt it sing through his veins even as the blood now sings and the air stings in his lungs like the memory of a bad dream but still he is running the simple act of running, the smooth integration of body and blood and bone into a single seamless machine that is more machine than the cyborg and more human than any of them, a perfect chain, an infinity contained in one white-haired package that is running not for his life which is a meaningless concept but instead someone else's.
there it's a mile to the docks do you remember how you used to run as a child and challenge them all because you could push the farthest past your endurance and how the air burned in your lungs and you ran a five-minute mile once can you do it again but wait here is another person and you must
It would take too much time to knock the shopper down, so he dodges around her with fluid inhuman agility, still running still feeling his pulse and thinking thinking thinking hard reaching out to the little girl the not-girl the cherry brandy locked in a hold on a ship that is now three-quarters of a mile away a distance that is rapidly closing like the gap between heaven and earth if you deign to skip up the rungs of Jacob's Ladder like true lightning or perhaps have the hubris to construct a tower to challenge man and God and then you learn the inevitable truth that growing closer to that same truth means you become incoherent and cannot share it with those you love like the person trapped alone on that ship he is running to the sparrow with bound wings who it had taken him so long to find again after far too many years that stretch out like distance that is only half a mile now.
another fence this one made of energy do you remember how we did this before (atoms there is more space between them than the vastness of the universe's true form) and go through the fence just step through remember the crackle and searing the agony that says that you are real and on the other side and running again did anyone notice perhaps you should
They don't see him--mercifully--as he goes through the energy fence, body disintegrating and reforming as he does for that is a trick that only he is blessed with and there are very few who would recognize him for what he is but more than half live on this planet or in that blasted lotus that spreads its petals among the stars and showers them down by the caprice of the black cat batting its paws against them his green eyes gleaming with malicious hunger as he closes on the drugged and drunken sparrow for even if he does not want to eat the sparrow he will still steal it away, for he is greedy and cruel and a keeper of secrets, and secrets pervert the heart, even unintentional secrets like the world he's seen spreading like a lotus among the minds and hearts of men, the world he does not have the language to speak of.
there is the berth recognize the registry well then run like hell man because you still need to break in is that fuel you smell on the breeze and the undertones of mint (from the mind of a girl pale and silent as the silver moon) and mint smells like
BETRAYAL he can read it in the way the door is now locked but it was not, the mechanism went from open to closed a changing line not so long ago, because of six and six and nine again the most slithery of the changing lines and the yarrow sticks fall to point the way to a traitor in his mind, a coin spins on a table and flips and falls face up and once more and face up and once more and face up a statistical improbability but he is beyond life and death so what does that say, it says he could keep circling this ship of sparrows for aeons and never grow tired and never grow faint but he does not have forever for someone is endangered and he needs to break his way in.
you can see the door is locked but it should be nothing to what you know break in and show him you meant business before
He brought a girl a girl a girl that wise old black cat always keeping a vixen or two or three around and you know just what to do, don't you?
