sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ BLUE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstroar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-05-24 07:44 pm
firstroar) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-05-24 07:44 pm
open (with eyes closed)
Date & Time: 5/21 - 5/28, any hrs
Location: Hold infirmary
Characters: Blue, you
Summary: Some invalid psychics can still hold a conversation while sleeping more of their lives away. Why? BECAUSE ANIME.
Warnings: ?// psychic permissions jic
The natural lifespan of a Mu was still unknown, even after three hundred years of survival. Survival that included the suffering and demise of many more...but it was clear, given Blue's state, that Mu were long-lived...but not forever.
My flame is almost extinguished, Blue had said, fifteen years ago. Fifteen...sixteen? How much time had he languished in that strange mask of Terra where Exsilium resided? Numbers like that meant little and less. But those words...it wasn't a lie. He was a candle burned down to its barest parts, a breath away from going cold for good, a moment too long drowning in its melted remains to burn bright. Tricks and aid from things outside gave him millimeters more, a little room to breathe and feel more like the youth he had been, but always to return to that weary state. The disaster of that other Earth had cast him back down to that state, lower than before. Whatever that lifespan was, it couldn't have been much longer, expelling energy the way he had.
Trapped in a bed again. Was it only natural? Blue's body was so weighted with fatigue that the means to feel bitter or unhappy about it was lost to him for a good number of days. Time passed with the equally merciful and unkind void of dreamless sleep, only opening him up to the reality that he was trapped. His body would not move – couldn't move, barely giving way to the twitching of fingers or the feeling of his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. The energy he needed to free himself from the prison of his body wasn't there, wouldn't be there for a long time...he feared it never to return.
Small relief came in detecting the people around him – free-thinking, free-feeling...Mostly ignorant of him save for what routine demanded, but still present, something to reach for and try and hold on to, even for a moment. Anything to lift himself out of that bed, where resignation threatened to keep his eyes closed.
Location: Hold infirmary
Characters: Blue, you
Summary: Some invalid psychics can still hold a conversation while sleeping more of their lives away. Why? BECAUSE ANIME.
Warnings: ?// psychic permissions jic
The natural lifespan of a Mu was still unknown, even after three hundred years of survival. Survival that included the suffering and demise of many more...but it was clear, given Blue's state, that Mu were long-lived...but not forever.
My flame is almost extinguished, Blue had said, fifteen years ago. Fifteen...sixteen? How much time had he languished in that strange mask of Terra where Exsilium resided? Numbers like that meant little and less. But those words...it wasn't a lie. He was a candle burned down to its barest parts, a breath away from going cold for good, a moment too long drowning in its melted remains to burn bright. Tricks and aid from things outside gave him millimeters more, a little room to breathe and feel more like the youth he had been, but always to return to that weary state. The disaster of that other Earth had cast him back down to that state, lower than before. Whatever that lifespan was, it couldn't have been much longer, expelling energy the way he had.
Trapped in a bed again. Was it only natural? Blue's body was so weighted with fatigue that the means to feel bitter or unhappy about it was lost to him for a good number of days. Time passed with the equally merciful and unkind void of dreamless sleep, only opening him up to the reality that he was trapped. His body would not move – couldn't move, barely giving way to the twitching of fingers or the feeling of his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. The energy he needed to free himself from the prison of his body wasn't there, wouldn't be there for a long time...he feared it never to return.
Small relief came in detecting the people around him – free-thinking, free-feeling...Mostly ignorant of him save for what routine demanded, but still present, something to reach for and try and hold on to, even for a moment. Anything to lift himself out of that bed, where resignation threatened to keep his eyes closed.