Ā Ā Color me in shadows
Ā Ā Ā Ā For I no longer see the rainbow
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā And angels cannot reach me.
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@thelightfalls
Ā Ā Color me in shadows
Ā Ā Ā Ā For I no longer see the rainbow
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā And angels cannot reach me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā About / LawsĀ / Template

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@splitsuit whispered: we have come so far ,Ā itās over .
Prompt
Here they stand, upon the precipice of the unknown. Exhausted after a hard long war, aĀ war that has torn over land and sea alike. Reigning chaos, the sound of his name piercing ice through even the strongest of hearts. And yet, the strings have been cut by their own blades. The battle is won, for once... The battle is won.Ā
They... Won.Ā
Staring at Damien with wide eyes, it occurs to him that heās shaking. Did it really happen? Is it all a dream? Desperation and wishful hope pressing into his slumber, creating such an enticing mirage. But you are here, and your words are real, such a beautiful thing to hear.Ā
That itās over.Ā
Unable to speak for once, no pretty remarks, nor sweet symphonies of victory, completely tongue tied. Instead, he reaches out. A pale hand cupping his other halfās cheek, sliding to his shoulder, before pullingĀ him close into a tight embrace. Ā
Let themĀ hold onto this moment just a second longer.Ā
-
Asterās chest felt full ; drowning in air. A tight pressure against them, then suddenly released as they look away. Turn away their gaze from the entity that stares at them with such scorn, from the eyes and eyeless silhouettes that burn them, a glitching light that feels so painful and disorienting to watch.
A familiar face ? Or an empty vision, an echo from a life long forgotten ?
Any sound made emits as little more than a whispered choke. Emotions cloud their questioning, distort their senses of the unreality surrounding them. They do not know why their heart aches ; why seething anger and betrayal fill their awareness when they turn their attentions to face the form speaking to them now. Irrational emotions, emotions that are not theirs. They cannot feel such pain from a wound that does not exist. A wound they do not remember. A wound long made to be forgotten, hastily patched up without regard for how easily such a deep cut may open again, may fester under unwatched bandages.
" They're not the same paths. I ā I would never waste time when I could be helping them. " Are you helping them, Captain ? Is there anyone to be helped, in the first place ? All of these choices you've made, have they done anything at all ? Or are you only adding to the toll of your actions, to the number of corpses littering the cosmos ? " If I were going nowhere, I would have stopped a long time ago. " Yet, there they were, still running. Was there any point in continuing to try ? Would they ever feel rest again ?
" Who are you to condemn me ? I don't even know who you are. "
When you scream into the cosmos, would anyone hear? Swallowing the corpses of your failures, the death that stains timeline after timeline, the black expanse opening its jaws and dragging you into its gaping maw. Lost? Confused? He knows the feeling.Ā
Sneering, the sheer frustration beginning to poke holes in his mask of indifference.Ā
āAnd what do you define as helping, Captain? Dooming your crew, desperately wading through space and time, only to fail again and again. So noble,ā Or is it selfishness? āAnd yet that nobility has led you down rabbit hole, after rabbit hole.āĀ
Stepping closer, much like a predator slowly closing in on its prey, you can only hide from the truth for so long. Can only run from it for so long, before the cracks in the ice begin to grow andĀ shatter beneath your feet. How far will you plunge, when you find your answers?Ā
āIf you were moving forward, you would have already found what you are so desperately looking for. But perhaps you like being Alice, chasing after the white rabbit. Getting lost in your roles, in your lives fabricated from fiction itself. A fake friendship, misplaced trust, Iām sure itās easier to accept than the pain of reality.āĀ
Answers, you want answers, even when theyāre right before your very eyes. Open them, Aster, open them! Wake up!Ā
āIt is not by choice that I condemn you. I am simply someone who wants you to see the truth, the harm in your choices, in your lack of action. I am known as Dark.āĀ
glitch

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@splitsuit whispered: dying is an art ,Ā like everything else .
Prompt
It struck Dark then, how much Damien sounded like him in that very moment. Dying an art, for the man who never could.Ā
Or, was it I who put that idea in HIS head? You can never escape ME, even in death!Ā Ā
Every bullet, every cut, every rope, a rotting desperation that soon turned into utter madness. Was it an art to crash against marble? To fall two stories down. Is there beauty in rot? In clouded eyes, in a corpse reanimated to mimic life? In dying, over and over again? In never really dying at all? He- IT did that, watched as ideas not his own invaded the mind, feeding off of a dead man walking.Ā
āDying an art... An action to be perfected and honed with skill.ā Lips pursed, eyes distant, āDeath is always bathed in uncertainty, most donāt know the time, why, or how of their own end, not until it comes into fruition.āĀ
Pondering if you were capable of such a thing, of playing God, wrapping those dolls around your fingers. Playing a game that could never be won, where everyone loses.Ā
Was it a demise? Why did it even happen? What had he done? Ā
āWhat we did, was that art? Was what he did art?āĀ
He canāt remember.Ā
Only darkness reigns in this new world. Cecil was made to learn that quickly. Once they had set foot into that realm, there was no turning back for them. There was no hesitation needed ā not when the only parts of their life that mattered had been taken, not when they knew that all theyād ever cared about was on the other side of the glass. Theyād chased, theyād run, theyād fought, theyād clawed their way through the expanse of shadows, until theyād made it to some semblance of light. Out of the wings, and onto the stage ⦠more or less. It was in their best interest to stay away from the spotlight. The background would have to do.
How theyād managed to find the crack in reality was beyond them. Once theyād found it, they immediately took to finding a way inside. The entrance was far more welcoming than theyād anticipated. As though something was drawing them Beyond.
Their heart beats rapidly as they enter the darkness. It nearly stops when they see him. A figure in the darkness. A suit - clad being, imposing and intimidating. A ringing fills their ears as they approach. An ache fills their being at the sight of him.
They know that they know him. They have to. Why else would they be reacting so ?
They feel so different than that person theyād been. Broken and weary, haggard and lost. Frays of hair fall into their face, like curtains to the dark shades of the makeup they still manage to keep in some semblance of order,
ā I broke in. How else was I supposed to get in here ? ā
How long has it been since he last saw them? What has happened to them over these long years? How different they appear, worn by time, by tragedy too heavy to carry. Itās almost like peeringĀ into a mirror, and how much he wishedĀ for the light to never be snuffed out from Cecilās eyes. The last person he ever wanted to be dragged into this mess, into this narrative, to be free from the confining role he himself must carry. Ā
There is a crack within his steely mask,Ā a glimpse of concern breaking through the surface, before itās gone as soon as it came.Ā
āYouāre not supposed to be here.āĀ
Pressing on, staying firm despite the ache. There is so much he wishes to say, so much he didnāt get to say, before being reborn and becoming the villain. But what was there left to say? Heās not them anymore.Ā
Unrecognizable, a shell of what he used to be. Ideals warped, hope gone, they were as good as dead. Corpses meant to be buried, meant to be forgotten.Ā But it hardly mattered now, not when peering eyes could find another weakness, to find another puppet to mold.Ā
āYou need to leave, youāre in more danger than you realize.āĀ
He didnāt know about their presence, and Dark was going to make sure it stayed that way.Ā
Darkiplier's Hands redux. you're welcome once again.
(remake of THIS gifset because I made it like 2 years ago when I was still relatively new to making gifs)
ā I never said that and you know better than to try and make it that way . Dark , you are not seeing that the more you work on this , the less time you have to actually get to the bottom of it . ā Damien kept still , he was not going to leave this office until they BOIL down to one agreement or another . With his hands still tucked behind his back , keeping his EYES still but unable to STITCH HIS SNARL back down into anything neutral . He understood that his body was going to be used in arguments and the LANGUAGE of them , that was nothing new .
The gravity of the situation and fight at hand was getting HEAVIER , the idea of stepping over to the boards and point to exactly what DULLED this particular sharp plan was there , but he was unsure if he even could move that way .
ā Think about it , you are drained and obviously at your wits end with this series of events . ā
Maybe THIS was the turning point , where neither one could recover back from what Damien had to say about the WEEKS they spent collecting all these samples and WHAT IFS on the possibilities , not the hard evidence .
ā You have fallen right into HIS hands , you have lost yourself to HIS madness . If you take another step towards this crumbling , desperate mess then we might as well lie down and let HIM trample us . ā
Maybe he was too HARSH , maybe he was seeing the truth Dark was too BLIND to see because he did not want to fail again , that the both of them together were still too short to catch up to HIM . But now , he seen he had cut the final wire that was keeping Dark together .
How foolish, toĀ attempt to placate a forest fire with gasoline. Every word serves as a sharp knife, a reminder that a villainĀ is all he will ever be seen as. Do you not feel the ice nipping at your flesh? The colors draining out, as if the sun has been snuffed from the sky, shades of black and whiteĀ serving as the feeble scraps. All this time, all this effort, all this work, only to be belittled for it. Talked down to like a child. But that final statement- That's what you are, a pawn willingly letting yourself be played!Ā
What a fool you are, to believe youād ever escape!Ā
Phantom doubles split from a shattering shell, blue and red blooming across an expanse of monochrome, screaming out in a chorus of rage.Ā The real monster is upon Damien in a single step forward,Ā hands lashing out and grabbing him by the lapels, right as he becomes whole. Ā
āIām mad? A desperate mess?Ā Is that what I am to you?ā It cracks like thunder, that high pitched ring nearly cutting through his yells, growing almost deafening, āAfter everything I have done for us, everything I have done for you, everything I have sacrificed for you! How little it means to you, itās never enough for you! Iām the one trying to put an end to HIS madness, and all you ever do is condemn me!"
So far gone, lost in the flames of an eternal wrath, determined to turn the world into ash. He has his other half off the ground, shaking him, wanting nothing more than to throttle him!Ā
āIām drained from you! Iām at my wits end with you! You think youāre so wise, so perfect, when youāre nothing but a hypocrite! A coward who can never escape the fate handed down to him! A mighty beast that lays down and rolls over whenever the storyteller comes into play. For someone who doesnāt want to be trampled, you seem rather content in a cage!āĀ
people like you only want one thing

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@scriptedstories Starter for Cecil!
Returning here from whence he came, a haven the color of pitch, a void within the universe. Foreign and desolate to those who enter, except for him. To ruminate upon past events with a clear mind and to consider a new plan. New plan after new plan. Failure after failure.Ā
But there isnāt much time to reassess his situation, to try to make another hack sawĀ that may cut through steel and glass bars. He isnāt alone. A foreign presence having him lift his head, searching through the cloying blackness, only to find an approaching figure. Dread is first to fill him, to have a less than welcomed snakeĀ breach his privacy once more, to send him down another rabbit hole. But instead,Ā the entity freezes like a deer in the headlights for a much different reason. He knows this face, even if time, wear and tearĀ has worn away the familiarity, andĀ memory.Ā
From another lifetime ago, the roots of familial bonds that used to bind so deep. Now standing before him, emerging like a phantom, another ghost haunting his being.Ā This is impossible.Ā A cruel trick of the eye, a hallucination, a figment, youĀ canāt be here- How are you here? For once heās rendered speechless, brows furrowing in utter shock. Stepping forward, almost closing the distance, to reach out and touch to see if theyāre really there, but one step is all he takes.Ā
He means to say more, to ask more, but all he manages is, āWhat are you doing here?āĀ
āHappy Valentineās Day, Damien. I hope youāve been well,ā The entity greets all too pleasantly, quite honestly put into a good moodĀ at getting a chance to see his friend once more. He found a squeaky dog toy for Barnum, itās shaped in a bone with hearts printed on it, thatās set aside for now.Ā Under his arm is a small box for Damien.Ā āI tried my hand at making some cupcakes, I do hope you enjoy them. If youāre not busy, Iād love to catch up.āĀ
Inside would indeed be fourĀ chocolate cupcakes. He isnāt the best at baking, but at least some effort was put into them.Ā
@thelightfalls
-
"Dark!" Damien hadn't expected visitors today. Taking the day off was a last-minute decision. Most would have assumed he was in the office instead of in the apartment. "Come in!"
When Dark stepped into the main living space of the apartment, he would notice that Barnum was lying on a cushion on the floor, ears pricked forward as he tried to identify the source of the knock. Thankfully, a familiar scent was all he needed to jump onto his paws and trot over. He saw that bone, mister. Don't hide it forever where he can't reach it!
"You made these?" Damien repeated when he opened the lid. They certainly weren't identical to professional standards, but they still looked fantastic. "I didn't know you were interested in baking. If you're free now, I'd love to share them with you. They'd go great with coffee, wouldn't you say?" With the box held carefully in one hand, Damien gestured toward the kitchen.
"Happy Valentine's Day to you too, and I'm sorry I don't have a card in return. I had forgotten the date until this morning and had nothing prepared for anyone. But, I think an afternoon spent catching up would be ideal."
@fearlesscxptain whispered:
How it managed to get there wasnāt important. What was important was that a box had appeared upon Darkās desk between the time heād looked away to do something important and the time he got back.
Said box, long and slender, was starkly white against the blacks and greys of the void. Within said box, carefully covered by folded paper, lies a page of pressed flowers, encased in what was either two sheets of plastic or a very thin acrylic pour. The flower petals range from a light, pale blue to a deep royal shade ⦠and have somehow managed to evade the monochromatic properties of the Void.
A note sits under the gift.
ā Happy Valentineās Day ā
Happy Valentine's Day!
Itās a surprise that there is something new within the void, and even more so that itās a gift just for him. An anomaly certainly, itās a mystery to how it got there.Ā The white of the gift is a stark contrast against the inky background, standing out upon the lone desk. Itās carefully lifted, unwrapped with caution, before revealing the beautiful page of pressed flowers. Heās in awe by them, taking a moment to appreciate the vivid shades of the petals, a welcome splash of color against the blackness.Ā
Heās sparing a glance to the note that once laid hidden beneath the box, and recognizes the handwriting almost immediately. Always so kind, even if they hardly knew him anymore. It brings a soft smile to his lips, despite the situation they find themselves within now, heās touched by their efforts to reach out. A connection laid buried beneath the layers and pages of the narrative, but has yet to die.Ā
Still, it leaves an ache behind, an ache that never grows easier to bear.Ā
Heāll have to thank them, when he sees them again. Until then, heāllĀ find a frame for the flowers, and hang them within his study. To be looked at whenever he needs a reminder, that perhaps not all hope is lost.Ā
[ @thelightfalls asked :
A small box, wrapped in black paper, with a white bow placed neatly on the top, would be left within the Captainās locker. Snuck in whenever Aster is away, and there for when they return. What lies inside the gift is a silver locket, oval in shape, flowers engraved on the casing. Itās vintage, but as old as it is, it remains pristine and well-polished. As if it has seen little to no use.
If opened, it would reveal the words, life is always ours to choose, imprinted on the left side. On the right is empty, missing the portrait of a loved one, or a picture of a significant moment in time, leaving room for a new memory to be placed within. The old was removed after great consideration. While this locket belongs to a time long gone, containing a philosophy that is no longer believed in, it was always meant for Aster.
Thereās a note folded inside the box. I meant to give this to you sooner. Happy Valentineās Day. - D ] ~~~
Lockers were meant to be secure, but something told Aster that the mystery of the box's appearance wasn't something that followed the laws of reality as they should.
Lifting the locket from the box, the chain trailing behind with a tinkling of metal against metal, Aster's thumb brushed atop the engraved patterning. Beautiful and delicate, a special gift. The sight of it filled them with a melancholy that they could not have known the reason for. An ache in their chest ... but a warmth at the receival of the gift.
They have not properly known the entity for long. Not in their knowledge, not in their remembered memories. Something, however, bound them together. A lifetime that they no longer remembered, but still sat deep within their being. It could never truly be entirely erased.
The chain is linked together around their neck, the locket itself allowed to fall underneath their turtlenecked shirt; hidden from view, but still close to their heart. For them to know, and for them to cherish.
The place it was always meant to be kept.
The one to leave behind such a gift was not someone they were able to visit. Knowing this, they hoped he managed to know their heartfelt gratitude. Thank you.
It begins with a suggestion, to go out on the yacht for a romantic getaway, a perfect retreat on Valentineās Day. Even if the circumstances for obtaining said boat were less than legal, it hardly mattered today. Taking in the sights of the sea, enjoyingĀ one anotherās companyĀ as deep blue waves lap against the ship. Celebrating with wine, and perhaps sharing a dance or two on the deck.Ā
The day eventually winds down, sitting close together by the end, leaning against one another. Theyāve lulled into a comfortable silence. It gives Dark a moment to steel his nerves, delicately separating himself from his love, in order to instead turn his body to fully face him.Ā āDo you remember when we let each other in?ā Reaching out, delicately taking Damienās hand, before lying the palm against his chest, āI think about it almost every day.āĀ
Heās giving a closed lipped smile, a deep fondness shown within lidded eyes.Ā
āYouāve bewitched me since that day, have changed my life significantly. Acting as a beacon of light, cutting through the repetition, the bleak never-ending cycle that used to be everything I was. I have found that there is so much more with you, have found hope and joy with you. Feelings I always deemed an impossibility for creatures like us, but became clear through your charm, resilience, and the warmth youāve shown me.āĀ
He releases Damien, only to reach into his breast pocket to pull out a small, black box.Ā
āI know we have already agreed to spend our lives together for all eternity, but since that day, since weāve let each other in, I feel differently than I did back then. The truth is, I love you, Damien. You have my heart in the palm of your hand, I am forever yours. There is no future without you, even if we werenāt bonded. Will you marry me?āĀ
The box is opened, revealing a black ring, an iridescent shine of blue and red glinting when moved underneath the light.Ā
Valentine's Day
ICY waters surround them from all directions , the COLD of the season has the oceans a paler blue with the foams a pearly white when beaten against the hull . In the far distance , their home was more of a SILHOUETTE and even in the THAWING of Winter , the sun settling but the SHINE still warming them . It was special today , all these years together and every Valentine's Day before this one .
There was still something so very different about this year .
What is he to say ? What is he to do other than LOVE his sweetheart , who was a gift he would not have had in this lifetime , despite not obeying to the LAWS of time and gravity and yet they still fell into the right circumstances to be here now .
If you mix all the colors of the rainbow , the color you receive would be BLACK . Understanding what was happening as there was a draw away and the knowing what he was doing in real time . His black eyes held so much VIVID emotions , and smile wider with the peeling open of that little box . It was beautiful , it was so RARE to find love , to find a partner to last forever despite being let in . Dark , was different in every way unimaginable .
A gasp of air from the question , from the undying love he is to confess . All his words were swallowed and cocooned into his fluttering soul . Wet eyes never dare spill over his cheeks but he does , he says YES with several nods as the ring was placed on his hand .
It slides into place , never loose and not so tight ; a PERFECT fit just like they are to each other .

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@fearlesscxptain whispered: ā ⦠it seems like you stepped into the spotlight yourself. ā // @fearlesscxptain ( donāt think they didnāt hear that pun. also aster is RUNNING )
The puns are taking over
And that is the straw that broke the camelās back. A good choice on Asterās part to get a running start, because the entity isĀ standing up from his chairĀ as soon as that pun is delivered.
āWhy donāt you join me then? Youāll fall right into place! Get over here!āĀ
@fearlesscxptain whispered: ā Those were some pretty dark jokes. Iāve learned to not fall for them. The lighter ones are much better. Maybe I should shed some light on the pitfalls of your humour. Would that be enlightening enough ? It may take time for it to develop, we may even need a darkroom. Then again, you are the dark path, you may perpetually be in dark rooms. Maybe it would help to illuminate your path ā ā // ( someone please stop them @fearlesscxptain couldnāt help but retaliate š )
The puns are taking over
The entityās lips are thinning, eyesĀ narrowing at Aster in offense, but really thereās not much bite to it, who dares to continue this nonsense. Unfortunately, the captain has always been known for being fearless.
āThatās enough.ā One more pun, and heāll be losing it completely, perhaps even sent to a second grave.
Shame, it looksĀ like heās not falling for any of theirĀ jokes. Aster should be delighted in their creativity. Heās huffing out a heavy sigh, rubbing at his temples for a brief moment.
āYou should stop now, before my mood darkens further.ā
Looks like someone needs to lighten up.