#─ lux. ʟɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ.

[quantum-shatter-a-blog]

HUGS. NOT ACCEPTING.

{ @fxlgurkinesis }

→ Patient fingers lingered at Luxanna’s shoulder as Ekko slowly pulled her towards him, his tired eyes meeting with her gaze, which seemed to mirror his mood. He sighed audibly and hugged her from the side, cheek squishing against her shoulder despite him needing to lean down awkwardly to do so. His eyes closed in his sleepiness, and even if she didn’t show it, he knew that she was just as exhausted, after the day they’d had. 

          The boy mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘you suck,’ but really, he was telling her that she was ‘soft.’ And it was true, really- at the dusk of a tiring day, a hug was the one thing that he’d been craving, and, hopefully, the Demacian would return his gesture, at least for a moment, providing respite.

[quantum-shatter-a-blog]

. tag cure .

[quantum-shatter-a-blog]

( ✉ → sms ) can you please distract me so i don’t cry in public?

TEXTS !  //  NOT ACCEPTING.

( ✉ → sms ) what’s wrong ?? ):( ✉ → sms ) but uh yes ofc uhh here we go( ✉ → sms ) what do you call his father???( ✉ → sms ) data !!!1

[quantum-shatter-a-blog]

    { @lux--reincarnate }

→ Ekko was wide awake. He lay beside one of his closest friends, though neither of them spoke, and both seemed content to just stare, unblinking, at the ceiling, the horrors of the night passed still playing like a movie in the whites of their eyes. Where her fingers rested against his hipbones, against his ribs as her arm was draped over his torso, he seemed to relax- though only slightly. How could he relax? He could barely react to her, even if she tried to prompt him, for he was still processing.

    He’d never lived through, or during, a Zaunite disaster- or, at least, not that he could remember. He knew that his city was built dangerously; smog, sludge, and steam taking up most of the space where clean air should be- however, he’d never really considered just how deep the design flaws truly ran. Could they have avoided the explosions? The boiling steam that melted the skin of children, the toxins that ran through the streets, infecting parents and siblings, killing countless people  .  .  .  lives that meant nothing to those who watched over Zaun. No. This couldn’t have been avoided. It would have happened eventually. Or, at least, that’s what Ekko told himself, squeezing his eyelids closed in finality.

    He screwed up his cheeks. He’d long been initiated into the life that had always existed in the canyon. He’d starved, seen people starve, seen people die. Seen people walking with horrible disfigurements, with augmentations, people who shouldn’t have even continued to live- but they did. That was the Zaunite way. But how could he move past this? 

    When he finally looked up again, it was over to Lux. She met his eyes briefly with a trembling smile, though it barely meant anything between them; only for creature comfort, perhaps, as Ekko squeezed her hand gently before letting it go. For all his selfishness, he’d forgotten what it must be like for her. Coming into the city only to meet up with him, she couldn’t have expected the factory explosion that took over seventy lives- she was lucky not to be one of them. The boy was thankful that they’d found each other in time; he was half sure that she wouldn’t have known where to go without him, what to do. She could have stepped once in the wrong direction, and her life would have been over.

    The passing of the night played over in his mind. He wasn’t sure of how to really feel- he was conscious only of the woman next to him, of the pounding of his own heart in his ears, and of the sounds of screams replaying in his head like a broken record. He was lucky, he supposed, that it’d been Lux, rather than any other friend. The voice of reason to get them both out alive, for if she’d not urged him, he could’ve gotten them both killed. He wanted to stay and help. He still wished that he had- for all the faces he’d seen, laying facedown against the cobblestones, he’d seen at least half before. Went to school with them, passed them in the streets. No-one very close to him  .  .  .  well, he couldn’t know. He wouldn’t know until morning. A coil of dread settled itself in the pit of his stomach. Why had he lived, but not all the others?

    His fingertips dug into Luxanna’s hand as if to ground himself, and slowly, he glanced towards the ceiling before rolling over and pressing his forehead against her shoulder, murmurs escaping his lips as if he were in a daze (he was).

          – “I’m glad you’re alive.” –

    I’m sorry my city is so royally fucked up, he wanted to add, but couldn’t bring the half-humour to his lips. Instead he swallowed, head repeating events: all the faces he’d seen, were they close to him? Friends? Boys? Parents? God, Ekko didn’t know where his parents were. He didn’t even know where they worked. They could be dead. He swallowed his nausea and tried to quell the chill scraping its fingers down his spine. It would do no good to worry to the point of illness. 

    That’s what Ekko told himself.

[quantum-shatter-a-blog]

“Hey, little one”

TIME WARP. NOT ACCEPTING.

→ When the 6-year-old crashes into the woman’s knees, he barely has time to root himself to her pants to catch himself- but he goes, and in doing so, falls on her foot with one knee before standing back up. He cranes his neck to look up at her, a hesitant squint present in rounded brown eyes.

          –“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. But you didn’t kick me when I fell           on you, so you seem pretty nice. So I guess it’s okay.”–

    He nods in finality to round off his consecutive list of thoughts, then reaches behind his head to fiddle with the cornrows gathered loosely at the nape of his neck. Max then wrung his hands together in front of his waist, watching her curiously for a few silent moments before chirping out his next words.

          –“Why are you here? Are you going to the market? Your hair is really pretty.           Can I touch it? Are you a soldier? Did I wreck your pants? Sorry if I did. You’re           warm.”–

    He finally peels his hands away from her and looks around distractedly, yawning and rubbing one of his eyes with a balled fist.

[quantum-shatter-a-blog]

. tag cure. khaled voice. ANOTHA ONE .