#nixfics

escapism; (es·cap·ism)

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy.

Or

I, someone who has not yet watched Rekrap, attempt to write him being paranoid

It’s quiet when xe opens xyr eyes, just like it always is in the aftermath. Instead of her bed though, she awakens in a fog bank, the floor cold and hard beneath her. 

A figure appears in the mist, silent and ghostly. It's familiar, achingly so, and as they offer their hand to xem, xe smile softly. It’s time to dance. 

They waltz. Or at least, they sway together, a pendulum dancing to nonexistent music.

It's quiet. 

“You left me.” she says as they sway together. “You left me.”

They don’t say anything, face shifting and out of focus. 

“Why did you betray me? Was it… was it my fault? I'm sorry. I didnt- i didnt mean to.” xyr breath hitches, and xe stumbles slightly, out of step. 

Silence is the only answer, like always. 

“It’s not- whatever I did, whatever caused you to do that… It was cruel. Okay?! It was cruel and you betrayed me, and for what? What- what did they have that I didn't?” she pushes away, breaking apart. 

A shaky sob echoes through the space, out of place in the silence. “I don't… I'm not sure I can forgive you for that. I don't think I want to. Maybe? I miss you and I love you and I wish you were here but… you hurt me. You broke us. That's… I don't think that can be forgiven.”

Embers spark and dance in her hair and feathers, burning away some of the fog. “It’s your fault, okay? Im, i didn't cause this! This… I had nothing to do with this!” 

The embers burn brighter, small flames igniting on xyr primaries.

“Did- did you ever think about your actions? Did you ever consider someone else for once your fucking life?”

She steps forward, more fog being burned away as her anger burns brighter. “I waited for you, did you know that? I waited, and I watched the door, and when you finally showed up, I was so happy. Did you know that, love? Did you know that for a minute, I saw you, and thought everything was going to be okay?”

Two steps forward, one step back. Shadows dance, obscured by the thinning fog. 

“You could have saved us. You could have done the right thing.”

She stalks closer, fists clenched and wings aflame. “But you didn't.” Tears evaporate due to the heat. 

“And I HATE YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT!” 

Flames burst outwards, burning away the last of the fog and leaving nothing but emptiness behind. They disappear.

It’s quiet, and she cries because of it. Sobs echo in the place she left.

here I am again. just like last time.

I lost- I lost you again. history is doomed to repeat itself, I suppose. That doesn't make it hurt any less. I failed you again, just like last time. this- this is worse I think, I was supposed to protect you, in a way that I wasn't before.

did you know that your smile was the same? I missed seeing you smile. I missed you. I love you

I think you fell in love again, too.

Pix landed on the outskirts of Pixandria, his elytra folding behind him. It creaked and groaned as he set foot on the sands, rusty joints protesting at the 

Did the desert feel colder than usual? He shivered, trying to ignore the glares from the people he passed on his way to the Vigil. It needed to be updated, as a few of his fellow rulers had died during the Battle. Pix crossed the bridge to the main part of Pixandria, the main square where the Vigil was. As he rounded the corner, an ominous sight awaited him.

His people blocked the road leading to the Vigil, lanterns and torches held aloft as they waited for him. His head advisor, Adelaide, stood in front of the crowd, trident in hand. She narrowed her eyes as he stopped.

“Pixl.”

“I- Del? What’s, what’s wrong?”

She glared at him, hand tightening around her weapon.

“You know very well what’s wrong, Pix! We all felt it!” She gestures to the crowd.

He winced. Of course…

“Pixl. You killed the Thirteenth Empire.”

“I… I did, yes, but-“

“You did this in full awareness that this is a heinous crime according to our laws.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind, but-“

“The dragon is- was the defender of the world, with her gone, who knows what will happen!”

“Del, please, it was the only way we could-“

Her trident crackles with lightning, the shadows marking her face.

“Pixl, you-!” She shouts, temper getting the better of her.

“It was the only way we could get back home!” He shouts back. “Okay? It- we were trapped there, we had to kill the dragon for the portal to open, and I know, I know that killing her was wrong, but it was the only way!”

She regards him in his torn clothes, elytra worn and rusty, eyes tired and guilty, anger, sadness and regret pooling in her gaze. 

“You of all people should know that there’s always another way, Pix. Leave.”

He looks at her in shock.

“I- Del, what?”

“Leave. You are not worthy to stand in the light of the Vigil, not anymore.”

“But Del-“

“Leave, Copper King, or we will make you. Leave, and never come back!”

Lightning zaps around her trident again, the sky thundering. Adelaide is a master at Channeling, a rival to Pix himself. She could smite him where he stood if she wanted to. The fact that she isn’t is probably more than he deserves. 

Guilt chokes him, tendrils of regret curling around his throat. His eyes glance to the crowd, hoping for an ally, a friendly face. There are none, his citizens, his friends glaring at him with suspicion and hostility. 

He feels heavy, and not just because of the elytra and armor he wears. The dragon's death is his fault, the demon growing more powerful is his fault, it’s all his fault.

“I’m sorry.” He says, not looking Adelaide in the eyes. “I had to, I’m sorry.”

She glares at him, trident pointed at his chest. “Tell that to Jean.”

He swallows, eyes darting to the corners of the square. Guards stand in the shadows, weapons at the ready. 

“Okay.” He says, head bowed. “I will leave, and live in exile until I can prove myself worthy to the people of Pixandria.” 

Someone in the crowd scoffs.

Pix raises his hands to his head, where the Copper Crown sits. He takes it and lays it at Adelaide’s feet, along with the elytra and his armor. The former Vigil Keeper shivers in the cold desert air, the wind whistling through the streets.

Adelaide nods at him, lowering her trident. He bows to her, turning back the way he came. At the corner, he pauses, turning back to his most trusted advisor.

“Who will update the Vigil?” He asks. 

Adelaide looks up at the sacred structure, lantern and candles floating gently around it. 

“I will.”

Three 

Red

Roses

By an old man at an ice cream shop.

He had bought them for his wife, he said, and had a few extras.

I had never held something so vibrant and beautiful, and I smiled as I breathed in its scent.

(Inside, I was sad. The rose had no roots to sustain it, and would wither and die within the week. I mourned its beauty already, vowing to appreciate it while it lived)

They say red roses are a symbol of

romance

love 

beauty. 

I always rolled my eyes at such things. Why would you give someone you care about

a flower destined to die?

Is your love so shallow you let it rot within the week?

Love should run deep,

It’s roots long and thick, it’s petals bright and blooming

Love should grow until it forms a thicket around you, 

a home to stay

a love to last

a flower to thrive.

was it worth it? did you get what you wanted? was I just collateral damage in your love story, something to be discarded for someone new, something better? are you happy with them? was my love not good enough for you?

how do I continue? how can I move on, now that my world is ashes, ashes, dust, dust? did my sanity die with you? was it ever alive to begin with?

and what of the audience? for you were always an actor, always a playwright. were they amused? shocked? joyful? do they feel changed, indifferent? are they proud of what you, we, did for them? do they even care, our story just another thing to ignore, to filter, to block out?

do you even know what happened in the past week? would you care if I told you? would you know what I mean if I said I am changed by tonight? what am I even saying?

my trust, destroyed. my love, dead.

here I stand. burned, bruised and battered, but standing. standing in the wreck of the narrative. one question remains.