LET'S GET SWALLOWED WHOLE!

Ramón López Velarde, from Song of the Heart: Selected Poems; “Dream of the Black Gloves”

even the searuns—

dawn's thoughts darken. best left in the past where it belongs.

"what you said just now, for one," dawn says, smiling a little. he heads over to his knight, arms raising and hands smoothing down a stray wrinkle in his heraldry. "as merchant, none no better than i that free is a construction used to facilitate manipulation. not that i have any doubt towards your intentions or good character," strangely, this is entirely true, "—but as i've said, i have survived this long by being cautious, suspicious and more quick-witted than those around me, be they benign, malicious or merely oblivious."

integrity, dawn thinks, savouring the word on sweetheart's mouth. dawn does not think himself a very good person. just one who can occasionally do the good thing.

Sweetheart tilts his head, eyeing Dawn more curious than confused.

“Are you asking me to sleep with you, Dawn? I would be happy to!” He smiles with rows of conical, wickedly sharp teeth. Sweetheart is not entirely blind— he knows that his mouth is eye-catching to Dawn in particular. And he was just considering how tense Dawn looked. Who could blame Dawn for wanting a little assistance with that? And Sweetheart is nothing if not helpful. Dawn seems to be driving at something asking what he can do for Sweetheart, but it passes him by.

Then, hands fall on either shoulder. They are bird-boned and tiny beneath his palms, and Sweetheart gently pushes Dawn backward to level their gazes. Reptilian slits search through crimson, something uncompromising in both of them.  

nah you wont

with a simple flourish, he is finished his transformation. his haori sits perfectly on his shoulders, hair pinned with a simple clip and classes clean of any smudge. ascetism has followed him a long way from the temple and dawn keeps those tenets still though his impression of the larger religious order has soured since. the humility does him as much service as armour would serve a knight. everything he does is to ensure his survival.

kazuya, a lifetime ago : you will have to work twice as hard for half as much as their gain. everything about you will be under scrutiny from now own. i give you my word that you will protected, but you will not be well-liked and that can wear on a child like you.

doubt creeps in. "are you happy, reymond?" an intimate name for an intimate queation. it tastes like old tea on his tongue. he doesn't hate it. "with...me. it is not a very glamourous job, i will admit and there are more fruitful opportunities in nicodranas. you're not left wanting, are you?"

Sweetheart tilts his head in unhurried consideration. A question so uncertain as that feels out of place presented to him now, when Dawn looks as pristine as a painting. Cloaked in his sleek haori, not a flyaway in sight in the dark hair pinned pristinely from his face, his demeanor is that of a statue. For a moment, Sweetheart could believe that this figure would never be caught flinching at anything. Then the next, he sees all off the effort of crafting an impressionable exterior. Dawn probably feels like a collection of taut muscles in desperate need of release.   

Truly, Sweetheart had never considered the question— it never needed asking in his one-note heart. Loyalty has its limits, of course, but he cannot fathom why Dawn would worry he would flinch this easily. Then, Sweetheart smiles good-naturedly.

“Well now it’s mine ‘cuz you set it down.”

“Just because you hold it doesn’t make it yours.”

“I’m really scared, and I don’t know why, so we’re gonna have to get to the bottom of this.”

“Don’t fucking— I’m not distracted that easily, young kid, I swear to god.”

“Get your hands off my face!”

“I will punch you with my fists.”

“How the fuck did you get up here?”

“I’m very tall, I’m like 7’1” and I will step on each one of you like eggs.”

“I’d like to fuckin’ see you try.”

“HAHAHAHA— This is not a joke. I’m not joking with you anymore.”

“Anybody else want to listen to some Queen?”

“I love stealin’ shit! Great day!”

“Hey, I love stealin’ shit too!”

“Fuck the cops!”

“I’m coming for you bitch! I’m coming for you!”

“Revali’s gale is now ready.”

“Bye bitch!”

“Um, I’m dead.”

“Wow he’s bisexual! I didn’t know that.”

“By the way, I’m bisexual.”

“Bisexual rights.”

“No. I talk first.”

“I was in history. But only once.”

“AAAAA—sorry I had to scream. It’s just a thing, don’t worry about it. I remembered a joke.”

“What the fuck is happening? Who is that bitch?”

“Watch where you’re going, shithead.”

“Haha! I love seeing people suffer when they wrong me!”

“Now I’m going to punch you!”

“Not unless you did something lame or stupid or uncool.”

“It’s the only way. Please do that thing you said.”

“Honestly, I’m not fucking with any more Redboxes.”

“Wait, you don’t put quarters in there.”

“Were you putting your quarters in the card reader? That’s not how you do that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m gonna win, bitch! I’m gonna win!”

“Oh my god, he’s dead.”

“I know you’re wondering what the fuck is going on. Me too!”

“I have no idea. I’m not a climate scientist.”

“I’m fuckin out of here. I gotta GO.”

“Please don’t throw it!”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to do my best.”

“You need to do better. No ‘sorry’s”

“OW, FUCK, MY KNEE.”

“Just kidding, I don’t care!”

“I got some new tricks, motherfucker.”

“You just left me to die!”

“Top 30 reasons why ____ is sorry. Number 5 will surprise you.”

“Top 30 anime deaths. Number 1: YOUR FUCKIN ASS RIGHT NOW.”

“Can I bury the body?”

"and what did they look like? what shapes did these demons take, what colour was their fire?"

questions, questions, questions. always with the questions. they are the only way bell knows how to connect. it was how she was made: steel ligaments joining at the wrist, shafts connecting cog with motion and writ into her, a father whose love can only continue on in grief.

"my shadows are not as dark," bell says, hand over where her heart should be. thud thud thud. warm to the touch, a god's gentle kiss on her brow.

perhaps : it is a scream. a divine fragment of toment in perpetum or at the end of a very long thirty.

the beloved daughter hums. "but they are rather red. sticky and prone to pooling. a hint of copper and iron and doubtless other nutrients left to waste." her reflection in the pond. bell smiles. "do they look like me?"

Despite the incredible precision with which Mouse operates, she allows herself the indulgence of a mild expression of distaste. She offers the rabbit a level look.

it is not the first time someone has tried to be clever with his name. interesting, then, that there's no lock of the jaw to follow. no pinch at the corner of his lips gaining a new shadow. it must meaning something. it does mean something, but dawn has neither the fortitude nor time to give these revelations their due.

he tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. they're starting to gather. sloppy chunks falling across his features like a disquieting bouquet. this is about as far into disarray that he will risk. they are lucky no eye is as sharp as dawn's very own red. no ears as sensitive.

"many would take your words and fashion a spear to pierce into your side out of the draws of breath between them." dawn tries on a smile and feels it wilt as soon as it touches his lips. he brushes his hair smooth, instead. framing his face, looking at the mirror to avoid looking at his knight. "guildmaster kazuya ushered the guild into its golden age. many sing his praises in the same breath that they damn mine."

still... "thank you," dawn adds softly. "i know what you mean—i'm just being," cruel, "—cautious."

He smiles, no teeth in it.  

“Does your caution always come across like poetry?” His gaze drifts to nestle in the cracked open window, if for nothing else than to avoid staring.