momebie: (Bleach Renji tattoos)


Rene hadn't even had them back a day. They'd barely settled into his atrophied supracoracoideus muscles and the smooth skin that hadn't born the scabs of loss for at least twenty years, before the lightning stripped them away. He'd done it without thinking, placing himself between her and the fury, and he'd do it again. What was the point of being on this journey if he wasn't going to save people that needed saving?

He perched on the stool as she treated his burns. "If you hadn't saved me, I wouldn't be here to help," she said lightly.

Rene smiled and patted her hand, slick with warming ointment. Out of the corner of his eye he could see David, skulking in the corner, angry. Shoulders hunched up around his bowed face, he spoke directly into his crossed arms and Rene almost didn't catch the words.

"If he hadn't saved you we wouldn't need your help," David spat.
momebie: (Angel Sanctuary setsuna torn)
So we'll do this again this year. Probably mainly on the week days like I ended up doing last year. I'll post a picture and a snippet to go with it. You use either for inspiration to get some words of your own for the day. Then you can leave them in the comments or you can keep them to yourself. It's mainly about motivation. Some of us find eyes motivating. ;)

. . .


At the end of their road there was an ocean. No gold-glinting horn. No seraphim. Not even a lower saint. There was only wet sand dotted in black tar, a beige island jutting up out of the horizon about a mile out to sea, and grey water washing out the whole picture like old linens in a tub.

"We've failed every one of them you know," Rene said. The wind whipped up with his fast darkening mood and David cupped his hand around his cigarette.

"You're getting your strength back at least. We must be close."

"Close won't be enough."

"Do you ever think that maybe you were booted downstairs because of your unwaveringly cheery disposition?" David asked.

Rene said nothing. He watched as some seaweed was pushed up against his dirty grey sneakers. Beige, grey, white, black. Not even the plant life had the strength to stand out. Clouds gathered overhead. David leaned into him as the temperature dropped. Rene shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over. He'd failed everyone else, he'd be damned if this human was going to die of a cold as well.

"Holy shit," David said.

Rene could see where David had gripped his arm, the sleeve of his own jacket brushing his elbow. David shook him. Rene looked up. The beige island was shining. A single bolt of sun had burst down through the clouds and swallowed it whole.

Suddenly David was wrapped around him, laughing. Rene couldn't return it. Couldn't move his arms. Couldn't convince himself this wasn't another trick of the light. But at this point, would it matter if it was?
momebie: (WS Bucky Awake)


The bed and breakfast was bringing on a wistful nostalgia in David. Rene wished they'd found a hotel, but their search had lead them to a small town that was big on history and short on amenities. This was how things were going to be until they'd finished their research: mid-afternoon light through the curtains, questioning fingers pushing Rene's bangs back and forth across his face while he tried to read, dust motes, sweat spots on sheets, distraction. It's not that Rene wasn't enjoying it, it was just that it wouldn't last. Better be on the open road with the unsureness of place and mental clarity than here in this purgatory knowing exactly where he was and not knowing at all how he was supposed to feel.
momebie: (Angel Sanctuary Lucifer)
I'm going to tie today's picture to something that forced its way out last night. In which Rene and David are possibly something more than I've made them out to be. This is why you can't leave characters alone with me.


The revolution will not be choreographed.

Rene left the car door open with the key in the ignition because he needed something to keep time. The winds were too fickle. The stars were too slow. The steady, man-made reminder of a machine bleeding out battery life, however, had the effect of straightening out the jagged pieces of him. It spoke steadily as if that tenor bong was heart of it. Ebb—-ebb—-ebb—. Rene could relate.

He stepped into the spotlight formed by his headlamps and the small mountain overlook became his stage. Behind him, the city of Denver lay low, reclining in the evening as its lights clawed at the black-blue sky. He rolled his shoulders forward, as if draping himself with a shawl knit from its iridescence. A costume, after all, was integral to the suspension of disbelief that any true performance required.

The ratty red Converse were terrible for pointe work, but he did what he could, scraping out a rhythmic tattoo in the concrete and gravel. Toe heel ball. Right. Toe heel ball. Left. Toe heel ball right. Right. Right. Left. He swayed low twice and then leaped into the air.

David was sitting on the hood of the car, an obscured figure caught between the high beams. His eyes followed Rene. They lifted and pinned him and there was a little burst of disappointment in Rene every time his shoes connected with the earth again. David’s gaze had held him in many places over the course of their trip, so why not now? Why not hold him up?

He finished on one knee, bent forward, palms flat on the ground making frames out of his arms and being pimpled by the gravel pushing into his skin. David pushed away from the car and slowly moved toward Rene, baptizing him with his shadow.

"I didn’t know a body could move like that." He cupped Rene’s cheek in his hand and used his thumb to gently stroke the skin below his eye.

Rene reached up and grasped David’s hand, holding it in place. “A body who has died many times can move however it likes.”

"Between the worlds," David said. "Neither here nor there. Tethered and ensnared and pulling at your bonds. What if I cut your strings?"

"You would send me hurtling into the noose instead. I’m of no use to you free."

"Not yet." David pulled Rene to his feet. "But one day we’ll be at rest and I’ll sever you in a fit of boredom. It will be my last act as I render the world wiped of grace."

"You would deprive even yourself of that power?"

"I don’t need power," David said. "I’ll have you."

By the time the car’s heart stopped Rene didn’t need it anymore. Flush with David, their shadow’s fought for the right to take the stage.
momebie: (Angel Sanctuary setsuna torn)
I cannot find the word processor file that contains all the writing I did on the Dickbag Angels a couple Nanos ago. This is slightly distressing, because it was something I had very much planned to return to. On the other hand, I could only make it better if I was forced to start over, right?

TITLE: Goodnight, Sleep Tight
AUTHOR: [ profile] momebie
SUMMARY: I'm putting out the lamps, find your own way back home.
PROMPTS: And I'll Make You Go
A/N: I'm not religious, but I still don't think I'll ever get over angels.

Araqiel sat cross legged in the sand at the edge of a glass still sea. His hands were clasped in his lap. He was not being patient, because he did not need to be patient. Or perhaps he only knew patience and therefore could not differentiate this waiting at the end of everything from the waiting he had already been doing. Whatever the case was, he was reasonably certain that there would not be an end for him, merely another change in scenery.

He had been by himself on the edge of the glass still sea for a thousand years before Seraphiel finally came for him. Seraphiel appeared in a sudden, localized clap of thunder and lightning that danced just above the reflective water. The resulting light was breathtaking, twice. When he had fully formed he hovered over mirrored surface. He studied Araqiel with dispassionate eyes.

It did not have to happen this way, he said. )


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February 2017

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