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clockwork_hart1Title: Creatures of less than flesh and dust
Rating: Teen
Summary: To a God, death is meaningless. But alone, and in a human's carcass, grief disagrees.
Genre: Supernatural/Hurt/Comfort
Originally posted here
Her first thought as she strode through her temple was one of glory. The very human emotion of joy that snaked through her at the thought of spurning the apes that dared confront her, trampling their human world to dust merely to amuse herself made her feel strong. Awake. Alive.
But as her Kingdom unveiled itself to sleep-weary eyes her innards grew cold. Her likeness toppled to the Earth and cracked, broken. Silence washed through her like deafening waves, battle cries lay deaf, hearts and lungs long ceased. Her world was silent as a grave.
She fell to her knees like so many worlds had done in her honour, running foreign hands through the sand, the bones and breath of an army lying wastefully beneath unworthy feet. Meaningless babble stumbled from her mouth like a struggling brook, silently begging to be stomped out of it's misery. She felt something akin to grief. A pitiful emotion. Unworthy of her. And yet it infected her relentlessly.
She was disgusted.
There was a noise behind her, the ape in love with her vessel had risen. He pointed a modern weapon at her head, waiting for her fear. He was idiotic, livid with his grief. "Now you now how I feel", he bleated.
And she drowned somewhere inside. Because she did. She knew how he felt.
Both of them were lost because of loss. She'd lost the followers, made from less than flesh and dust that were more a part of her than she could ever have known. He'd lost his lover, and with it his world.
Maybe he could understand her, the creature she must become to survive this world?
And that scared her more than any death could permit.
Rating: Teen
Summary: To a God, death is meaningless. But alone, and in a human's carcass, grief disagrees.
Genre: Supernatural/Hurt/Comfort
Originally posted here
Her first thought as she strode through her temple was one of glory. The very human emotion of joy that snaked through her at the thought of spurning the apes that dared confront her, trampling their human world to dust merely to amuse herself made her feel strong. Awake. Alive.
But as her Kingdom unveiled itself to sleep-weary eyes her innards grew cold. Her likeness toppled to the Earth and cracked, broken. Silence washed through her like deafening waves, battle cries lay deaf, hearts and lungs long ceased. Her world was silent as a grave.
She fell to her knees like so many worlds had done in her honour, running foreign hands through the sand, the bones and breath of an army lying wastefully beneath unworthy feet. Meaningless babble stumbled from her mouth like a struggling brook, silently begging to be stomped out of it's misery. She felt something akin to grief. A pitiful emotion. Unworthy of her. And yet it infected her relentlessly.
She was disgusted.
There was a noise behind her, the ape in love with her vessel had risen. He pointed a modern weapon at her head, waiting for her fear. He was idiotic, livid with his grief. "Now you now how I feel", he bleated.
And she drowned somewhere inside. Because she did. She knew how he felt.
Both of them were lost because of loss. She'd lost the followers, made from less than flesh and dust that were more a part of her than she could ever have known. He'd lost his lover, and with it his world.
Maybe he could understand her, the creature she must become to survive this world?
And that scared her more than any death could permit.
