[Myrial: believed to originate from the word Myriad. A rare, mythical name last heard centuries ago.*]
*(Disclaimer: I made this up.)
Many years, and through many lives, I've wandered the roads of the world. Some know me as an angel, some as a suspect, and some - a select few - as a lover. I do not speak of them.
I walk the world quietly, out of sight for the most part. Only sometimes, I leave the shadows, be that to hold a child's hand, or to run.
I go by many names. Ghost, stranger. Mother, once.
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Why do we exist? Why is my conscience aware in this point in time, and this place? Why this body?
Sometimes I like to think I remember before the time I was here, but all of it feels like a blur. Maybe before I was born I was an angel. Or a star. Or maybe I was something the human mind hasn't come up with yet.
I've never completely understood our concept of Identity. I exist, yes. I look a certain way too. But I don't feel how other people seem to - the absolute certainty of who and what they are.
Maybe one day, if we cross paths again, I will tell you a tale of a star.
^couldn’t find the original post, but here’s the screenshot of the inspiration for this.
Who Were You?
She slid into the warm blankets, staring at the blue ring on her finger, which glows faintly in the dark. Her soulmate has been feeling awful this week; the ring shifting between white, blue, green, and red. She wondered if there was a color for concern. If there was, what color was her Soulmate's ring right now?
She zoned out, lost in thought, and was almost asleep when she was suddenly in pitch black. No glow from the ring at all. It was cold. She watched it fracture and fall, catching the pieces in her other hand. They were dead.
She sank back against the pillows as it sunk in. They were gone.
I’ve only recently entered the PHM fandom, and I tragically have yet to actually sit down and watch the film, so I don’t fully see how all the pieces fit together.
But: I’ve had an idea floating around for a while of a character I could drop into that universe.
The child of a couple from a lost space station (maybe an initial attempt to try living in space? there’s a lot of unfinished details), who’s somehow survived, outliving their parents, and runs into Grace and Rocky around Planet Adrian.
My basic ideas for them are like this:
They don’t care about gender, because due to growing up in space they weren’t exposed to those norms and expectations like everyone else.
Picked their name based on something that sounded cool, probably found in the earth records in the ship’s computers.
They’d probably have severe social anxiety due to no human interaction for years, and take ages to warm up to Grace and Rocky
They learn anything and everything through trial and error. Thus, many scars from accidentally bumping things, nicking themself, etc.
Alone in a spaceship with no missions there’s not much to do, so they look at the contents of the computers constantly.
Due to the previous idea, they’ve learned star maps, math, multiple languages, making their own clothes, and many other random things based on interest.
However, to contrast their wide variety of knowledge, selection based on interest also means their knowledge is extremely weak in certain areas because they never cared to look into them.
It could also turn into a weird bloodymary AU somehow, though I haven't and probably won't see Iron Lung, so there'd definitely be inaccuracies.
There’s a lot more I could put here, but those ideas are all still rather vague and unorganized, so I’ll leave it here for now.
Also I saw someone pair images from PHM with lyrics from Paris Paloma’s song Escape Pod, and it was very fun to come across, since I’d made a similar connection.
I never asked for this. Never asked for the fate of a kingdom to be placed on my shoulders. That was his duty. He is, after all, the heir. Why should I be taking his place? You say I am incapable and still do not give the responsibility to someone who is, as if I am to mend myself with some miracle overnight. So I run.
I run from your lies, your expectations, your rules and your crowns. And I will keep running until I am so far no one will know my name. Only then will I stop to rest. Only once I am far away from you and all your pawns. I will run and leave you to pick up the pieces.
If the kingdom goes up in flames that is no business of mine.
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Every day, she’d wear red. A bow in her hair, her shoes, a bracelet.. or her very favorite dress.
Blue was boring. Red was bright, warm. Red was like roses.
But then one day red was ruined. Red wasn’t safe anymore. She stopped wearing red, and looked for the opposite.
And so she was blue. Blue - quiet, unnoticeable, and inconspicuous.
Shadows were good for hiding. If no one could see you, you were safe. But something was wrong. Those shadows felt wrong. If they were foolish enough, they’d say it was haunted, and go on her way. They knew better.
They slowly turned away, taking a step toward the door. Then another. Then they ran. When they slammed the door, they looked up again. The window, which had previously shown the interior of the room.. was pitch black.
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