#skyandwave

ATARANGI TI PAPA X GREED: ( @skyandwave )

to be a sun swallower, fire on the tip of tongue and dancing along spine; girl made out of lakeshore, ocean-wide glimmerings and still begging for more, fingers upon surfaces, skimming. asks the world, what more? runs fingers through dirt, through sand, digging. found islands were not enough, found this earth too small for these hungry, fire-infused hands, wrapped around bar cages such wants have led her in. what more? was it enough? are you deserving of such? 

she’s hardly one to call the rebels with their hands bloodied and their skin cut brave or noble for their little protests or their little bar fights - it is almost amusing, truly, to see how inefficient such monsters could be in a fight against nothing but mere humans. it was almost as good as night time television entertainment, girl sitting with her legs crossed and red lips staining glass as she watched what chaos unfolded before her.

and she is nothing if not belonging of such places, stepping over fallen bodies and broken barstools of the aftermath of it, lifting up skirts to avoid staining them.

“my sun,” woman places her hands lightly on the girl’s shoulder, stooping down next to her carefully while hiding her distaste for how the other reeks of alcohol and god knows what else. she lets a look of concern settle on her features instead, worried eyes watching the other. “are you alright? you have been here for too long, my love - a place like this is hardly fitting for a girl like you. we still aren’t sure if all of those - those people - have left for good yet.” 

“come with me, my sun. can you stand up and walk with me? you shall stay with me tonight - there’s no telling what else waits for us here.” 

“‘s true? you’re really gonna stand for this whole rebellion thing?” he calls, not bothering to keep his voice down, traitorous words echoing in the high-ceiling room, just how he likes. the circus speaks of the topic in hushed tones, but it should be known better that the boy would crow such words easily, eyes sparkling, no regard for the consequences such a declaration brings. no meaning behind it to him.

“i wanted to watch your fire dance today too.” soren pouts exaggeratedly from his place on the trapeze perch, several feet above the girl walking in. “shame. can’t believe ‘m gonna miss out on what could’ve been a good night to be stuck in a train with the rest of you.” 

and there’s that lopsided grin, boy stepping off from his place to swing from the ropes, from the worn wooden bar easily, catching it behind his knees to hang carelessly, vision of the girl before him upside-down and topsy-turvy with his swinging. 

“c’mon, c’mere - if you can’t make my night, at least make my evening?” 

it is easy to get lost like this, he thinks, eyes only centimeters away from the painting, nose almost brushing the canvas. could lose himself to the swirl of paint and the smear of colour like this. easy, really, to have eyes focus on this and not the cameras, not the smiles too wide and the questions that leave chests feel like things with ribcages protruding.

(asked: what is it like, to feel such an intimate death upon your skin? is there a guilt there or have you gotten used to it?)

he can feel someone next to him, knows the wild sea-sun air she brings wherever she goes. doesn’t turn to greet her, still. says instead, “i think i get it. why you would stand for hours and hours to stare at something beautiful. at something you don’t understand.”

(answer: like dipping hands into blackwater currents and feeling cold palms pull you in. can you ask a drowning man if he’s used to the water in his lungs?)

SEND ME ✉️ FOR A RANDOM HEADCANON OF OUR MUSE’S RELATIONSHIP.

SPILL THEIR SECRETS

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about 

I can easily imagine some theft going on, but for innocent things. Him as a kid having little collections of bottle caps and Spider Man comic books, and the latter he probably would steal from stores at least a few times if he couldn’t afford it.

👁‍🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike

This one I can't think of something either, because it would really just depend on how he's feeling on a specific day/situation. He does usually hide how he feels about people, but he's not fully going to hide that he doesn't like him because you can tell the difference when he does like someone. For those he doesn't want to be around, he'll be polite and the usual charm and flirtation, but there's nothing very real about it except keeping up the mask and playing that game of chess with them, and nothing else but something skin deep because he doesn't care to know them on a deeper level unless it's dangerous not to. I say you can tell, but he’s good enough at manipulating how he’s perceived to not let it on how much he doesn’t like a person if just regular conversation, until the conversation escalates, the other person might not know.

💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

SEND ME ✉️ FOR A RANDOM HEADCANON OF OUR MUSE’S RELATIONSHIP.

“I know I never say it, but…thanks.” 

Paris, but it feels like Shanghai, think of it as so with held hands and busy streets, but less guards, but with a talk by a dead fireside in the snow between them, but blood and flames from there, and he still holds her hand through crowded roads - and we won’t say if it was her that first reached for the hand or Malachi that made sure it didn’t drop, or the other way around. Maybe it won’t matter. 

And so she says this and he can’t tell if it’s for Shanghai, or St. Petersburg, or something in Paris. If it’s for guards in between them, or almost catching tears fallen, or just standing here. (And maybe that’s is what he thinks of, the two of them becoming the people that leave, stayed.)