rudelanguage | 🗡️ inbox

You're viewing

rudelanguage's journal
Create a Dreamwidth Account Learn More

Reload page in style: site light

ANTIGONE INBOX: username ANTIGONEIGUESS
PENDING INBOX: username ITSPENDING
KNIFE INBOX: nonexistent (for now)

[she tenses briefly, surprised she said that aloud.

then, dryly:] Besides everything I've already been bitching about, you mean? [she rolls a shoulder, looking away.] It's whatever. We can go back, I guess.

I wouldn't have called it that.

[ He sees no issue with her airing her feelings. ]

But if you are ready. I'm in no rush.

[the issue is.......what, exactly? Knife isn't sure. it's...hard to explain. they've already shown too much of themself to this man. lizard. lizardman. damn, a shapeshifter who is unbothered to share their other form... it's hard to wrestle with, given it'd seem to invalidate all the fear and anguish Knife's lived with in hiding, even if the circumstances are utterly incomparable.

the quiet forest is such a temptation to bare more of that true skin, but the threat of fae has been so rapidly conflated to take the shape of every nebulous fear they have that the prospect feels akin to simply walking off a cliff.

Dion has no reason to dangle their changelinghood over their head, but the chance is there. the forest doesn't need to have any interest in Knife whatsoever, but there's always a chance. the fae here may be simple, frivolous, self-absorbed cunts...or there may be a few in there not unlike the witch that wormed her way into Knife's head.

the more Knife wants to be seen and validated, the more the threat looms. the threat of attachment. the fear that it invalidates their feelings for Soliton. the danger of validating some bullshit outcome.

things could be easier, but...was that really right?

Scarlet stops shy of the pathway back into the castle, eyeing the glow of the wall sconces and the glow in the dark.]

...Don't die. Or give your real name. Or say anything with, like. "I swear" or "I promise."

Do not act like myself, someone advised me.

[ That someone was Antigone, as they both surely know.

His strong little legs kick off and his overlarge wings carry him up, taking to the air with the ease of one born to it. ]

I shall be careful.