moved to livedtough

“I… I think I understand what this thing is and why it’s been kept hidden for so long.”

Her tone turned grim as she stepped away from the orb. She only wondered how many uneducated spell-casters and magicians had fallen into the same fate as them.

“Imagine… image a crystal like the pommels of our swords that have been automized to absorb energy from all living things around it. The closer we got the quicker it siphoned our active magic. We won’t know for certain for maybe a couple hours, but I won’t doubt if it’s slowly killing us. I fear that starvation is not our main concern.”

He listened to what she said, eyebrows furrowing, a dark cloud passing over his features. What she said made sense, and he didn’t like it. Part of him wondered if, should the light dim, they would find remains. Scraps of cloth and bone, a discarded blade. He didn’t let himself dwell on it for long. 

“Ask your MOTHER.” he said venomously, eyes narrowing when Selena called out across the house, “We’RE GOING!” She stormed into the room to tell him, “Eragon wants to go and we’re going! And you had damn well –”

“If I have to so much as LOOK at BROM –”

“You’re not! You’re not! You’re sure as hell not because YOU–”

“Quit!” Eragon pleaded, hands on his ears as he ran in and grabbed Selena’s arm. “You said you wouldn’t!”

She embraced him and told Morzan and Murtagh again, “We’re going.”

For a moment he thought he would get a genuine answer, and he does, eventually, but it comes after the yelling that so often echoes through the house. Eragon. Of course it was because of Eragon. He loved his brother, and he would protect him from anything, but--if there was a favorite of the sons, he imagined it would be Eragon.

She presses her lips together, a soft exhale leaving her lips. Did she think he was capable of creating a good family? Without a doubt in her heart. “Yes,” she murmurs, resting her forehead on his, “without question. I know that you will make a wonderful father, our children will be good. Our family will be good.” She runs her hands into his hair and presses her lips to his for a moment. “You are not your past, Mur. You are not what happened to you, and you are not your family,” she gives him a soft smile, “we have a whole future ahead of us.”

SIGHT.   small towns.  big cities.  six thirty curfews.   lights that take the place of stars.  blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wakeup call.  found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york city.  window shopping.  watching something terrible and enjoying it.  growing numb to the sight of injustice.  wilted flowers.  faded caricatures.  bright, bold colours.

SOUND.   crickets and lightning bugs.  car engines and a/c units.   a phone call to mom/dad.   laughing with friends.  jokes that are so bad you have to laugh.  the clicking of computer keys.   noise cancelling headphones.  deafening gunfire. the sound of silence.  muffled music from another room.  drumming fingertips on a table.  clicking of pens.  listening to a clock and swearing the ticks are getting slower. ringing in the ears.  the voice of someone you love.  pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH.  being held close during a long night.  fleeting reassurances.  holding hands when you’re scared.  brushing fingers through strands of hair.  freshly dried clothes.  bruises on your knuckles.  silk and satin.  your favourite pet’s fur or feather.  wringing your hands anxiously.  snuggles.  comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin.  cold metal.  leather in summer.

TASTE.   coffee in the morning.  tea in the evening.  bubblegum that has lost its flavour.  alcohol burning the back of your throat.  homemade cooking. blood in your mouth.  stale air.   mint.  fresh vegetables.  the processed taste of citrus candy.  the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good.  foreign sweets.  fast food.  bittersweet. sour.  spicy.  sweet.  bitter.  too much salt on fries.

SCENT.  morning glories and honeysuckles.  freshly cut grass.  hot chocolate in the middle of winter.  nail polish.  hospital rooms.  smoke.  hair spray.  your favorite shampoo/conditioner.  the scent of home.  perfume.  cologne.  mint.  something burning.  wet dogs.  copper.  metal.  leather.  un-emptied ashtrays.  something familiar yet different.  campfires.

  She casts a look around the area.  Had no problem settling on pine needles, though it would be relatively difficult to find a place large enough for her to lay down.  The chill in the air isn’t a problem with her constant high body temperature.  Tail sweeps to clear the ground of branches and logs.  “True, however it’s better than trekking to a better one.  Is there game around here?”