miss cadaverous

Constructs aren’t built with words for hurt, or panic, or that instinct to fold inward when something breaks.

Fighters, most of all, are built to rise, even when their bodies are telling them to fall.

All he knows is static threading through his rings, metal joints locking, a scorched wing too heavy to fold.

His body won’t stand. He doesn’t understand why. It should obey. It always has.

He keeps thinking about the Gloom:

how it burned in the seams,

how it might still be inside him, waiting to take something from him —

Love,

loyalty,

the part of him that knows never to hurt the one he flies with.

* * *

(This comes out so much more grim than planned… I’m thinking about writing a three-part short story about this scenario, and, unlike Retired Assets, no death will be involved.)

(I already have the outline for the story. It will actually be quite sweet and comforting.)

(I can’t stop thinking about Knight being stuck in half-plane form and he just doesn’t understand what is going on, and he tries to fold back into full humanoid form to his own detriment)

(It’s more like a character study… I need to try writing more than two bunnies at any given time. The cast will include Mineru (her POV), Knight, Calamo, Zelda, Rauru, and other Nameless Hylians ™️/ensemble)

(Anyways, I hope I’ll find time to write this!)

(Was doing some doodles to find ideas and ended up drawing everything on two layers and called it a day)

千種のユリその３