[You Gotta Know That This Won't Last]
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TW/CW - Discussions of Death
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Or - Icarus Morningstar's will.
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The quill feels heavy in their hand - despite it being rather light.
The bandages (blood and potion stained alike) wrapped around their hands - their gloves, blood stained and littered with memories Icarus so desperately wants to shove away, long discarded - keep the quill from shifting in shaky hands.
Their eyes are unfocused, goggles discarded around their neck, and their hair loose and wild around their face. (It hangs too long. Icarus should cut it. Objectively speaking, they should. People could use it to their advantage if they get into a fight. People could hurt them really bad if they get ahold of his hair.)
(The only problem is that Icarus can't find the energy to care.)
(Icarus couldn't find the energy to do a lot.)
They're leaned against the table, quill hovering empty above the sheet of paper - their hand and forearm settled fully against the wood; their other hand tangled into knotted hair, elbow braced and tense against their desk. (The ink beside their arm was shifting colors, sporadic and glitching (just like their chest). It takes a moment, but eventually, Quixis seems to settle on a shimmering blue-ish purple.)
The tears bubble quietly, building and blurring their vision but never quite falling. A sob threatens to build, fall from their lips and spill every built-up emotion, but it never does - swallowed back and held at bay as they attempt to regin their breathing back in. (There was nobody here. Fable was out doing whatever he did when no one was there to watch. Rae wouldn't be coming back. No one could come in or out unless they were Icarus or Fable because of the Watchers. No one was here. They could cry. They were allowed to, here; like this.)
(The only problem is that if Icarus starts crying, they don't think they'll be able to stop.)
"It's-" Their voice is rough, coarse even to their own ears. Their ear-wings pull close, flinching slightly at the sound. (They haven't talked in a while. They didn't think they could, right now. Their throat still feels closed and tight and everything still seems too much. Powering through pain and discomfort to reassure themself and others was something they've gotten rather good at.) They swallow, closing their eyes for a moment before forcing them back open. The quill presses to the paper, but they don't move to write. "It's just in case." Their voice is breathy and quiet, and they're honestly surprised the tears haven't fallen quite yet. "It's- It's just in case. Because- Because he'll fix it. He'll fix it and I'll be- I'll be okay." They pause, squeezing their hair tight in their hand and pressing the quill impossibly deeper into the paper. "I'll be okay. It's- It's just in case."
(Icarus is dying. They all tried with Momboo - there is no fixing it. Centross fixed Ven. (Fable fixed himself.) But Centross was dead. And Icarus is starting to doubt Fable ever had plans to bring him back.)
(Maybe they'd even die near the cave.)
(What a horrible thought to think.)
They start writing with shaky hands, teary eyes, and a rabbit-ing heart; scrawling the blue-ish purple ink across the near inky white pages.
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Precautionary measures - Just in case anything were to happen suddenly.
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The words feel stilted despite the fact they were written down and not spoken; Icarus far out of their element.
(They were supposed to be dead anyway - what did it matter?)
(If they died, who cares? No one likes them anyway.)
(Wouldn't be the first time, either.)
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The last will of one Icarus Morningstar; prince and heir to both the Gilded and Morningstar kingdoms, and Creation's child.
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A few stray drops of blood fall off their chin, soaking into the paper and staining it. Ironic, considering the paper's content.
(Icarus was starting to really hate blood.)
They blink, letting out a small sigh as they read over the few words they've written.
(Calling themself Creation's child left a bitter taste in their mouth.)
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To
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They stare at the word, contemplating who's name should follow it.
(Contemplating if they even tried to add their father.)
(What more could he take, anyway?)
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Rae - I'm sure your science, overthinking brain is trying to figure out how you could've saved me - despite everything that's happened between us. I always loved you for that.
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Tears fall silently into the paper, their lip wobbling slightly.
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To you, my brother, I leave much. Mainly, any and all books related to Quixis and the Wack. As I'm sure you want to figure that out as much as I do. I also leave some nesting materials - you're stressed and gods know you need blankets and things of that sort to help calm you down.
To Athena - I'm sorry I've been kinda shitty. You didn't deserve that. But, there's not a lot I can do to make up for it now. (Because if you're reading this, I'm dead. Duh.) To you, I leave my potioning supplies. Books, ingredients, things of the like. And, like Rae, I also leave some nesting materials. I'm not quite sure what you put in your den - but, I hope the thought counts.
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(They don't think they like doing this anymore.)
Their hand was starting to hurt. Fingers tense and stiff with old scar tissue, and aching with the rain and cold that seemed to permeate around them.
(They just wanna go home.)
Their eyes seem to burn the longer the tears fall, the salty liquid soaking into the paper below.
(When did they stop thinking of this place like home?)
The ink seems to spread at every little drop, purple spreading into a deep blue.
(A while ago.)
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To Ari and Ven - I miss you guys. You really helped, during all of that. Even if me and Ari spent most of our time together arguing. It was a good distraction from everything else. To the two of you - anything of mine that was in the office. I know it's not much. But you can take whatever of it you'd like.
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They stare at their words a moment longer - scratching words into the bottom of the paper before promptly striking them out - before they toss the quill aside and fold the sheet up.
The dirt and dust from their table coats the outside of the paper, obscuring any ink that might've seeped through and making them move their focus to the dirt residing under talon-like nails. (There was blood under them too. They were trying not to think about that)
(They were failing.)
They swallow, huffing quietly as they stare at the folded will atop their desk. They weren't just going to leave it there, that wouldn't be a very fun conversation. They didn't really have another secure place to put it, however.
Well - they do suppose they can keep it on them. In their pocket. A constant reminder of what's to come.
And so, that's what they do; standing from their seat with creaky bones, stretching and shaking their wings out behind them, before grabbing the paper and placing it inside one of the inner pockets on their coat. (Despite the paper weighing hardly anything, it felt like weight after weight after weight had been added to their pocket.)
They sigh, shaking their head with a small noise.
They shift, turning and crossing the room to their nest in long strides. (The avian in them trills at their nest, even if it was mostly their own clothes and the periodic stolen Centross shirt. The more human part of them hates it; wants to break and destroy and tear apart.)
(The human part of them cares about what their father thinks.)
They shake their head, settling in with a small chirp - ignoring the weight in their pocket.
(They curl around something of Centross'. The scent and the texture and the everything about it making their bird brain so incredibly pleased and comforted.)
(It didn't even feel like they had just written their own will. Just written the very thing that no one wants to write.)
(Maybe it was for the best it didn't feel like they had just written it.)
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To Centross - To you, whatever is left of me. Bury me somewhere pretty, why don't you?
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Welcome to the VBS Pharmacy!
my name is Nobe (or 野別), pronounced as “No bae” haha
I’m half Japanese with Italian roots- but that doesn’t really matter whatever.
Anyway I go by any pronouns and uhhhh I have horrible memory. Sorry in advance
Our vitamin gummies are safe to take with other vitamins, they just give a little buddy for the vitamin!
Kohane vitamins for kindheartedness, diligence, and joy
An vitamins for happiness and productivity
Akito vitamins for good vision and immune system
Toya vitamins are good for your blood, brain, and lifestyle
I guess… just don’t touch anything you aren’t gonna buy? oh and please don’t touch the fruit basket, my boss put it there for uhhhh what was it. “prosperity”?? Anyway it’s been there for a while it’s probably all yucky and rotten lmao
Enjoy your time here!
01110011 01100001 01101110 01101110 00100000 01110000 01100101 00101101 01101010 01101001 00100000 01110011 01100001 01101011 01101001
01110011 01100001 01101110 01101110 00100000 01110000 01100101 00101101 01101010 01101001 00100000 01110011 01100001 01101011 01101001
01110011 01100001 01101110 01101110 00100000 01110000 01100101 00101101 01101010 01101001 00100000 01110011 01100001 01101011 01101001
((GUESS FUCKING WHAT 💯
ooc in (( or // and in blue if I remember
Not much disturbing imagery, currently I only have one instance. And it’s not exactly threatening- I wanted to have a more mild one for people who aren’t as comfortable with it <3 I’ll still tag it.. currently there should be no actual gore so you should be good with that.
trigger warnings for this blog is
Mentions of, well, drug use
Mentions of death, or something like it.
glitches in videos
ummmm random shit in Japanese
guilt being handled badly but in a metaphoric way.
a lot of this is metaphoric
You don’t get threatened though 👍
JST time zone.
AND MOST CODE WILL BE BINARY. And uh Japanese. And/or Caesar cipher. The shift is encoded in the binary in this one, as well as a pretty important thing in this story. please complain to me if you can’t figure it out.
tags for now are
#vbs vitamin
#not vitamin
#pharmacy mail
^asks
#nobe speaks
#maybe… lore?
^gonna be a lot of that. read people
#epicly canon lore
^Nobe doing goofy shit
#Oh The Horrors
^rambling, that’s what I call my scatterbrain/speculated adhd
#ooc post
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