#reverxiii

[aevitium]

✧ ˖  @reverxiii asked:

Would humanity be happier if they had never grasped for knowledge? If they could have kept their newfound knowledge a secret, would they have continued to live comfortably in that garden, knowing what is outside? In this simulated garden, Pardofelis knows she's little more than the ghost of a dead girl. Every smile, every purr, every flick of her tail is an echo of a girl who once lived. She knows what happened to that girl and the fear that the same thing will happen to her when this is all over lives at the back of her mind, a constant specter on her heart. You see, Pardofelis doesn't like thinking about sad and complicated things very much. She likes simple things like sunny spots and canned tuna. She figures she would be happier if she didn't know, if she could go about her days restocking her store and greeting the odd visitor. (She still does go about her days anyway, living comfortably with all of her dearest friends.) Pardofelis drapes herself over Elysia's lap. They've struck a bargain today: in exchange for showing up on time to the gathering they'd planned, she gets to nap on Elysia's lap afterward. Some shiny rocks and shells had passed hands, too, but she's less happy about those than the opportunity to nap. A pair of mismatched eyes look up at Elysia, squinting in the mid afternoon sunlight. "Hey, Ellie? Are you happy?"

Here, they are merely memories. Habits personified, pieces of data programmed to follow a series of actions like they might have in the real world, were they still real.

Familiar strings tug lithe fingers into a head of tabby hair, a series of ones and zeroes somewhere they cannot see, to scratch just so behind a pair of pointed ears.

"Hm?"

Here, they do not have feelings, merely shadows of them. It's not a thought that pleases Elysia, so she likes to pretend it is not true. Fortunately ( in some morose, ironic way ) she is quite well used to that.

"Of course I am~"

Elysia peers downward, crystal eyes amused as though the question had been silly. It is, in a way-- this is a world made of the hearts and minds of her most beloved friends, an eternity in their company. There is no world to save here, no terrible thing to wake up to tomorrow, no fear of everything crumbling to pieces as you sleep.

( Disregard that you needn't sleep, that tomorrow is no less artificial than today, that time never moves. )

But it's true, or at least she thinks it is. In a terrible, selfish way, where she pretends to know that the world outside this garden will survive because there is so little she can do for it any longer. Where she tells herself what was done was good enough, because she has no way of knowing if it wasn't, and because it is all she could offer.

In a selfish way where she tells herself that the people around her, the ghosts of her friends, are happy too. Because to her a stagnant, monotonous eternity is okay as long as they are with her, and she is with them, so they must feel the same.

And if they do not? Well, she isn't certain she would like to know.

"How could I be anything else?" Birdsong is her laughter, fingers sweeping beneath Pardofelis' chin. "Frowning gives you wrinkles, anyway. Why, look at Kevin! I keep trying to tell him..."

She fills the air with words that mean nothing, with laughter that can only ever sound like hers. When she looks to Pardofelis again, she's smiling. She always is.

"Don't tell me I'll have to start lecturing you, too!"

[jxrmngxndr]

🎲 whats a little kissaroo between coworkers right big boss kevin

Lucky number 13. A kiss to the chest

None of them had quite gotten the handle on the shift to their lifespans, the changes that came from the infusion of honkai energy turning time into merely a suggestion for them that flickered in the sense of urgency, the fire in the distance they all could only reach for on behalf of those normal humans for whom the suggestion of time was a death knell.

It was a cruel juxtaposition, that hint of eternity, draped in calamity. Kevin could not get too ahead of himself, not when there was so much that remained here in the present, so many promises to fulfill, responsibilities due - and the more time went on, inching them toward that eternity at the sluggish pace with so little to show for it, the less he could allow others the same luxury.

He was their leader, was he not? The tip of the spear to plunge this light into the darkness, and forge the path forward. Not merely for the Flamechasers, their little band, but for everyone, all of humanity at his back.

His steps crunched forward on the gravel, his eyes sweeping about the empty courtyard - no, not empty, he knew that if he only searched for a moment, he would find -

"Ah."

He would find basking in the sun, stretched and supine and very asleep, fingers reaching toward the sun, lips curved into a satisfied little grin -

"Felis." He did not raise his voice, did not feel the need, his gait continuing toward her at the calm pace needed lest she be spooked and scurry off, warm gravel continuing to crunch with each step until he slowed, found himself kneeling just beside Pardofelis, decidedly not rousing from her nap despite the rise of gooseflesh that heralded his proximity.

It did not seem to bother her, indeed prompting a long, languid stretch, reaching for the sun in her palms but neither recoiling, however subconsciously, from the breath of cold that rolled from him in gentle waves. Of all Flamechasers, Pardofelis seemed the one least concerned with eternity, seemed the most content to spend the time that she had now – it did not seem to matter which conference or war table was gathered, or to where they would shortly be dispatched.

For his entire adult life, Kevin had seen the gift of his power through the lens of his responsibility, the weight of what he could give with it, what burdens he could bear, the dirty difficult tasks that only few could accomplish. The expectation he carried, then, was that others would do the same, even if he would shift that weight and carry for them, too, if needed.

He dipped, turned his head, let it hover over the rise and fall of her chest arced skyward, the better to catch the warmth of the sun on the tender parts of her, heard the steady rhythm of its beating – not frantic, not frightened, no hammer of urgency despite the world that turned around them. With a gentle sigh, his eyes fluttered closed, relished that quiet moment as his head turned and his lips ghosted softly over that steady heartbeat before he adjusted himself to sit sentinel, to keep watch over his comrade while she slept.

Perhaps...they had time for just a moment...to spare for the quiet.

He could catch her up later.