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This is a new inebriation, liquor unlike primitive red; steel quiet when uncapped, no pursuant death beyond the sensation of momentary relinquishment, satisfaction in impermanence. She unfurls like a twisted, alienated cosmos. Like a blood moon waned, coerced by a silver-tongue calling past near star’s pallid lips, each syllable an arcane incantation he speaks unchallenged, granting her the very skin she uptakes. He makes her in the way poetry might heal another, subduing a rage or sadness in the captivity of textual eternities; he makes her graspable. He gives a hopeful sliver to sweetly murmur reminiscence to times when she was whole, not so irreparably shattered as she swears she is inside; times like now.

He does not mean to, however, his silence insists at least this and her simper promises her understanding. It is the nature of the incomplete to want to learn another nature, adopt it even; the parallel to themselves. Most becoming curious as to the definition of peace, wondering would they discover it there in that unknown other side, how they might glow in solace’s light. The steps towards that destined haven are never the same, everyone needing their own, unique cures for their own, unique suffering. Their steps are as closely entwined as they may come in that existential dark, so close she thinks they might feel the other beside them, the palpitation of their heartbeat and the warmth of their breath. Their haven could be them.

Naruto 674: Sasuke’s Rinnegan

QUESTIONS.

          ❛  NO  ONE. ❜

          TWO  SHARP  VOICES  cut  the  stagnancy  of  the  forest.  a  confrontation  was  expected,  yet  it  arrived  sooner  than  imagined.  barely  within  reasonable  distance  of  the  nearest  establishment,  this  impression  warned  him  that  no  warm  welcome  would  be  waiting  for  him  there.  mugen  remained  within  his  grasp,  though  he  was  unwilling  to  reveal  the  menace  of  its  edge,  and  therefore  his  raised  defenses.

       he’s silent for a second, brows furrowing in contemplation as he clenches his fist. “you know why,” he says softly. “yeah, i’ve had a shitty life, the villagers hated me, bullied me, ridiculed me even. but i never gave up. i was born to be something!” he huffs, puffing out his chest. “that’s such a poor way out, being upset that everything life throws at you. it’s exhausting to hate. besides, i have people to prove i’m not the monster people think i am. so what if i have a nine-tailed fox inside of me?! so what if i’m the villages’ most hated? that doesn’t excuse anything,” he’s focused, eyes hard as he tries to explain. does it make sense? probably not, but he’s going to roll with it.