It Crumbles||+Open
It likes heights.
When it’s sitting atop high perches such as these where the air is moist and chilled, this is where it finds itself in a state of near calm, of an almost bittersweet tranquil hummed through hot flesh and fire-bone and a { m i n d } that is still but isn’t, mute but so very loĚ•uÍ dĚ›.
Almost as if to transcend what qualms it bears. Truly a silly notion to think this a balm to be smoothed over festering sores such as this one’s. But it’s purpose, undeniably, is just that. And for now, it will serve.
A balcony held aloft the twelfth story of the complex overlooking Brookyln, that is where this one resides. Not his. No, this homestead is anything but, abandoned, left neglected by someone old and perhaps freshly departed for the plants housed in their little pots clearly picked with intimate care grow brittle and brown as they wither away in their own decay. Peculiar to accommodate such a place perhaps, but it is the anonymity this one prefers. A presence there, but simply not. Â
It likes the scents.Â
A world below it and this one smells the whole of it, hears it, tumultuous and so very busy as it teems with too much life. To touch it would be to leave black stains in immaculate fabric. It is content to immerse itself in solitude with momentary placidity as it is rare to come by, and dwindles still. This one will let it saturate in itself. Perhaps just once more. There could be no harm in such indulging. Â
While it produces darkness, the light eater is, as its name suggests, light. When it's cut, it produces orbs of light that leave its body, free to meander and do whatever lost souls do with themselves.Â
It is because of this reason that the light eater chooses to hide --to r e c o v e r-- in high places. High places have direct light, light it can eat, absorb, heal itself with.Â
The light eater doesn't come to the rooftop in a humanoid form. Instead, it merely becomes a gathering of darkness in a corner, steadily growing.Â
"Y o u--" Its voice rings out suddenly, seemingly from every shadow on the rooftop-- between the leaves of the potted plant, under the other being's feet, in every corner. "With l i g h t s so bright, this one would believe you to be a s t a r."
Not flattery. This one had no need for such useless things. Instead it was simply a statement: It could see, almost t a s t e the fire that the Nihter could produce.Â
W a n t.Â
Now t h a t-- was something the light eater could understand. It wanted to taste the lights of the Nihter, feel the b u r n of flames.Â
But first.Â
First, it would r e c o v e r in the shadows.Â
