#faint morimens

⠀♡ྀི ֹ ࣭ faint graphic

⠀ૂ⠀⠀f2u w/o creds unl reposting⠀⠀𓈒 ◌

⠀credits⠀:⠀01⠀𓈒⠀°

⠀💭⠀( ´͈ ᵕ `͈)⠀entry⠀:⠀ever since ive been in the community i havent seen like one single morimens edit which lowk kinda makes me sad 🥹 to be fair i only downloaded the game like maybe a few weeks ago because they had a saya collab, but now i really do like playing the game ♡ i usually dont like playing games like these since im more of an open-world girlie (i tried playing r1999 and i got a bit bored) but morimens somehow won my heart. oh yeah also JUBEL POSTED!!!!!! FOR ONCE!!! AND ITS A SELF INDULGENT ONE TOO!!!!

𓈒 ◌⠀ㅤׂ⠀⠀the noble society⠀:⠀@d-veiled @parasiteslice @lllolitasua @mxskeddove @crystalcatgamer @reveriesinterlude @abudasima @rottenedveil @delicacybrush @shotbydestinyy (ask to be added or removed)

[PT: Faint Graphic. Free to use with no credits unless reposting. One[link]. END PT.]

[PT: Note reads: Ever since I've been in the community, I haven't seen like one single Morimens edit which lowk kinda makes me sad. To be fair, I only downloaded the game like maybe a few weeks ago because they had a saya collab, but now I really do like playing the game, I usually dont like playing games like these since im more of an open-world girl (I tried playing r1999 and i got a bit bored) but Morimens somehow won my heart. Oh yeah, also JUBEL POSTED!!!!!! FOR ONCE!!! AND ITS A SELF INDULGENT ONE TOO!!!! END PT.]

@morimenswrite

"Back home, there isn't anything like this." Faint waves a pale hand at the table between her and Murphy, the table full of little sample cakes that Murphy picked out for this outing.

"Just different energies to take in. Anything more solid like this..." Faint flushes, a pink brushing at her paleness. "Was too expensive for me and Tinct to get."

"But you still have tastebuds, right?" Murphy presses, leaning forward.

At that hesitant nod she gets, she continues, "Then you can try these treats and tell me what you like. I demand it."

Pale pink eyes streaked with blue widen, before their owner nods. There, she just needs those little pushes from Murphy, before she goes back to curling up in her shell.

Always so afraid to burden anyone, after being treated as a burden all her life, from what Murphy's been able to piece together.

Well, she WON'T have it! Anyone that the Divine Mother deems worthy of her attention is no burden!

"...I don't know what to start. What do you like?"

Hm. Murphy purses her lips, as she looks over their options herself.

Red Velvet, Strawberry, Lemon Drop, Chocolate, Caramel Crunch...so many options. Varied enough that Faint should be able to narrow down her preferred flavor profile with a few selections, though.

But where to start...

Ah! There.

Pink cake, covered in swirls of blue and white frosting. Makes her think of Faint looking at it.

"A strawberry cake, try this." Carefully, she presses off a bite with her fork and offers it to Faint.

"Oh, thank you." Faint leans forward, closer. Close enough for Murphy to reach. She presses the fork with the bite on it, to Faint's lips. Faint, who carefully takes the bite in and swallows.

Her face lights up. Literally lights up, glowing sparks coming off of her hair and cradle.

"Oh, it's sweet!"

Touch is a complicated subject for the Divine Mother.

Murphy is never touched out of respect for her status, except when she is touched out of that same respect.

She births the fragment of God over and over, God dragging her back, and the touch of that is...never the same. The only thing that is, of course, is the unpleasantness.

Even now, she can feel Him twitching inside of her breast, the Divine Fetus lurching about her heart.

Mythag has claimed that they'll find a way to rid her of her burden, of course. But she knows better than that. The Divine cannot be so simply wiped away, like blood dripped upon a stone floor. No, it lingers more like ink on a blank page. An eternal stain, a forever mark.

Her other self may have been fortunate enough to Awaken after God left her and thus is free of that weight, but herself? No, she remains forever and ever, the Mother of the Divine.

Ugh. Her eyes burn. So does her skull. Murphy reaches up to press a free hand against her forehead, the other adjusting her parasol to catch light that is not there. Useless.

So useless that she brushes into someone else passing by. Someone else floating by, actually.

A girl, a woman about Murphy's own age, a pale stick of a thing, whose eyes are too big and limbs too long to be either human or Seafarer. Someone from elsewhere. In a strange floating chair carrying her about.

They touch. Just enough. That-

The itch, the pain, it...lessens. At that touch. Suddenly Murphy can see once more. Focus.

Murphy raises a hand to her chest, to test, to pry. Nothing. Stillness. No kicks and jitters at her heart, that force her at times to stay and only breath.

"You...what did you do?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't touch you!" The pale girl blabbers. "No one should, I drain, I take-"

So it seems. But only just enough for a God to still. Not dead, she's certain, not dead anymore than she can be, but there's...less. Less than before.

Murphy reaches out to grab at the sleigh, the crib, whatever this carrier is called. To once more brush her hand against another hand, a hand somehow paler than her own with skin thin enough to see strange veins pumping inside.

"-!"

"Stay still," Murphy commands, every inch the queen she is and always will be. "Your touch...what is your name?"

"Faint."

"Faint. Very well." Murphy nods, firm. "We will meet and do this again, in, hm, say, a day. Same time, but come to my rooms."

"To...touch you?" Faint's pale lilac eyes gleam and glow, like jellyfish of the depths.

"Yes. To touch me, skin-to-skin." She taps her parasol against her leg, tentacles creeping about from behind. "I expect you to be on time, or I will seek you out myself, understand?"

"...hnnn."

With that, Murphy turns and leaves. This Faint seems the intelligent sort but also shy. She may have to carry out her threat tomorrow.

~

In the end, Murphy does end up hunting down this Faint, Faint who is is with another girl who appears to float like the pale Faint does, though in much darker shades.

This girl gasps upon hearing who Murphy is here for and even waves Faint off to go with her. Excellent. A possible avenue to find Faint through later on, because Murphy certainly does not intend this to be the only session of theirs.

"Your room is very...dark," Faint offers, once inside.

Murphy glances about at the dark curtains blocking the windows, the gauzy veils hanging about her bed and lamps and so forth. "I suppose it is."

"...is the light hard for your skin and eyes?" Faint drifts slightly closer with her question.

Murphy breathes through her nose. Like she thought, intelligent but shy. "I have...migraines, you might call them. Lower light helps but does not eliminate. What does..."

She reaches out. Skin-to-skin. Again. "Is this."

Again, the pain lessens. Breathing feels less of a luxury and more of a given. Pleasant. Murphy settles down on the edge of her mattress drawing the floating Faint closer as to more fully rest the weight of her arm on her.

Get more skin exposed. Connected.

"So I'm draining what hurts you, instead of you. Oh." Glowing lilac eyes flicker and burn once more.

"You could say that."

"But it is that. That's...good. I don't want to be a burden on you, being useful is good."

Murphy cracks open a drooping eye (when did she get so tired?) to properly give Faint a stately look. "Of course being of use to me is good."

She pats the mattress. "Come, lay next to me."

Faint simply stops. Breathing, moving, she's a statue in her still drifting cradle.

"I mean it. Come here." Murphy tugs at the arm. Sits up to more fully glare.

"...if I hurt you, you'll tell me? Tell me to leave?"

Probably not. "Of course." She tugs again. "So. Come."

And Faint does, leaving her cradle with twig limbs that don't seem ready to quite hold her up, collapsing into the soft materials alongside Murphy.

With her there, Murphy feels...her eyes are closing. Sleepy. Tired. Funny that this would be what would work, after all those incenses Miryam has tried for her, to bring her to sleep.

But perhaps the secret is in simply less pain, less pain from the God whose life Faint seems to draw away.

It's...good.

They'll have to do this again, of course, as she mentioned, Murphy decides. And perhaps have Faint go shopping with her, try a few treats, she really can't let her go unrewarded-

She yawns. She sleeps.

~

Upon hearing little strange hisses and snorts, Faint carefully pushes herself up on her front. Peering at the curious Awakener who demanded she come here. Demanded that she and Faint...she burns at the thought, at the action still happening. Touch.

Her hand is clasped in the other girl's, this Murphy's. The new Murphy, not the red loud one everyone knows already. The paler one, who is much more fierce and angry. More like the other Seafarers already at Mythag.

Even now, Murphy scowls in her sleep, hair tossed about her head in waves.

But when Faint tries to draw her hand back...the scowl deepens. The touch, the grip tightens.

Like she doesn't want Faint to go. Like no one else ever has, except Tinct, except Tinct whose life Faint ruined.

But. She's not ruining Murphy's life now is she? Murphy feels better with her touch. Useful. Helpful.

Maybe, just maybe.

@morimenswrite

Faint can hear singing. A melody that rises and falls and isn't coming from her sister.

Which is good because Faint doesn't know what she would do if Tinct snuck into Murphy's rooms to start singing.

Because that's where she is right now, on Murphy's bed, frail limbs carefully cushioned with pillows and blankets as she slowly comes to full awareness out of her sleep.

Awareness to hear quiet singing, like a lullaby.

Faint clears her dry throat with a gentle cough. "Murphy?"

The singing stops. She hears the clicking of heels before a familiar pale face, one almost as pale as her own, hovers above her.

"Finally, you're awake. I was starting to get bored," Murphy huffs, before thrusting out a hand in Faint's direction. A hand that Faint takes without fear of stealing Murphy's life, for that it is exactly what the woman before her wants.

"Bored enough to sing?"

Murphy's mouth snaps shut and her veil swings about her as she pointedly does not look at Faint.

Faint almost giggles at the sight if not for what it might mean, because this is not her sister so forgiving of her faults. This is Murphy, who might force her out from shame.

But Murphy doesn't do that. Instead she only sighs, and slowly looks back at Faint. "Yes. I sing. It's not very good. Nowhere near professional, not like your sister."

Very few people are good as Tinct when it comes to song weaving. But-

"It sounded very good to me." Faint gulps. "If you don't- I wouldn't mind hearing it again. If you sang." Her words are clumsy.

Murphy shakes her head. "No, no, that song...no, too many memories. And I...there are no others I know."

No others? Faint frowns. That's wrong. Tinct and Faint know lots of songs, Faint mostly through listening to her sister's many performances. In fact...

"If you want to know more, I can...tell you. Some I know."

"Some you know?" Murphy's eyes fill with a curious glint. Of wanting. "But how will you share it with me? Will you write it down?"

No, nothing like that.

Faint clears her throat again, feeling faintly embarrassed. "I'll- sing them. That's best. But promise not to make fun?"

Because she knows what she sounds like and it's like one of those Earth frogs, croaking.

Faint can't help but groan, as she sinks into the hot hot water of Murphy's bathtub.

It feels good, the water lifting pressure and weight off of her aching joints, the heat soothing away what's left over.

"You're right, this is good."

"I'm always right about these kinds of things," Murphy says from where she stands over the tub, staring down at Faint.

Her white tentacles wiggle back and forth, occasionally shifting color on a spectrum only Faint (and Tinct, she supposes) can see.

"Come in," Faint urges, reaching out with her hand from the mountain of bubbles that threatens to swallow her up. Bubbles that smell of lavender.

Murphy shakes her head. "No, you can have a nice bath without me."

"But it'll be nicer with you," Faint presses, actually managing to grab at Murphy's wrist to squeeze it between her frail fingers. Fingers that already look so much less swollen than usual, after soaking briefly in the heated water.

Murphy's quiet for a moment, as she thinks, lashes heavy and low.

"Fine. I'll come in."

Faint withdraws her hand and looks away, her eyes up towards the ceiling as she hears fabric dropping onto the floor.

She doesn't understand clothing, really, or human sensibilities on what they call nudity, but Murphy's close enough to human that those sensibilities still matter to her.

So she won't peek.

(No matter how much she really really wants to.)

Plop, Psh.

Water moving, as a heavy weight slides in. Faint opens her eyes to see Murphy's red ones staring at her from the other side of the tub.

Which isn't that far, really, but it's still pretty big to be able to fit both of them.

The bubbles cover both of them so no need to worry about offending Murphy by looking at her now. Seeing how the stress relaxes from her shoulders, as she too allows the heat to steal her constant pains away.

"See? Isn't it better?"