one-shot: Simca
who: Simca, mentions of others
summary: Sunday morning after her conversation with Ikki.
It was only in things like this that she realized her brother's words held some truth. When she was betrayed, she understood how deeply that they had hurt him. Simca was a selfish, passionate creature. Her thoughts and feelings were directed toward those that she cared about, and she easily disregarded others. When something arose, she used her success to bend reality toward their favor.
This had been ever since Sleeping Forest. She had been there to cheer her team, used her skills and her body to manipulate players in their little game. The only thing that was able to clear her mind from all of her dirty thoughts was the clear blue Sky. Each day she remembered climbing to the bottom of their prison, clawing her way up onto the cold metal. When she craned back her head, when the world was revealed to her, she felt so profoundly peaceful that the tears had rolled down her cheeks without sound. Their tiny world, their pain and suffering-compared to the vastness of the Sky-was insignificant. She learned what it was like to be free. The world was too large! Chasing the Sky was like breaking from a dream.
When she had looked up, there was a reminder: "None of this matters," it said, "only the joy of being." Instead, as she stood atop Pisces, her neck arched toward the ceiling of the dome, all she felt was the cold cage that she had once been trapped in.
Once upon a time, she had held a small bird to her breast. He had the biggest wings in the world; and his neck, just has hers had been, was craned beautifully toward the Sky. Since that day, she had nourished him, his skills, and the steady beat of the wings that she knew would one day lift into the Sky. He became fiercely independent, through her hand, he had denied her the honor of being his Tuner. Her ties became too great, and she felt the pull of gravity once again. Her first act upon coming to this cage was reestablishing the wings of her companions. She told herself that one day, one day, the Crow would return. This world had to be ready for him. The cold, dead, Skyless world she had come to would be transformed into something that would lift him higher. She saw it as an obstacle, nothing that he couldn't break free off. Now, however, his adoring attentions that fed into her, were turned toward a different voice.
That night she sought comfort without a word. She forgot herself. It hurt too much; even more that she had done this to herself. She had known her Crow's decision ever since that day when he denied Genesis. Despite all of his words, she had helped him-fooling herself, over and over-about what was important to him. What was important to her. He had never asked her to do any of this, and instead, as her wings became tied, she did it on her own accord. Babylon was discovering AT by her hand, and the world that her brother hated was being established for him. Simca left before Lockon awakened that morning, pulling up her AT and leaving with a flutter of feathers out of his window. "Simca did this to herself," she was reminded, "for herself."
As the binds of her love snapped around her wings, she came to the place that she had been.
"We're back where we started."
summary: Sunday morning after her conversation with Ikki.
It was only in things like this that she realized her brother's words held some truth. When she was betrayed, she understood how deeply that they had hurt him. Simca was a selfish, passionate creature. Her thoughts and feelings were directed toward those that she cared about, and she easily disregarded others. When something arose, she used her success to bend reality toward their favor.
This had been ever since Sleeping Forest. She had been there to cheer her team, used her skills and her body to manipulate players in their little game. The only thing that was able to clear her mind from all of her dirty thoughts was the clear blue Sky. Each day she remembered climbing to the bottom of their prison, clawing her way up onto the cold metal. When she craned back her head, when the world was revealed to her, she felt so profoundly peaceful that the tears had rolled down her cheeks without sound. Their tiny world, their pain and suffering-compared to the vastness of the Sky-was insignificant. She learned what it was like to be free. The world was too large! Chasing the Sky was like breaking from a dream.
When she had looked up, there was a reminder: "None of this matters," it said, "only the joy of being." Instead, as she stood atop Pisces, her neck arched toward the ceiling of the dome, all she felt was the cold cage that she had once been trapped in.
Once upon a time, she had held a small bird to her breast. He had the biggest wings in the world; and his neck, just has hers had been, was craned beautifully toward the Sky. Since that day, she had nourished him, his skills, and the steady beat of the wings that she knew would one day lift into the Sky. He became fiercely independent, through her hand, he had denied her the honor of being his Tuner. Her ties became too great, and she felt the pull of gravity once again. Her first act upon coming to this cage was reestablishing the wings of her companions. She told herself that one day, one day, the Crow would return. This world had to be ready for him. The cold, dead, Skyless world she had come to would be transformed into something that would lift him higher. She saw it as an obstacle, nothing that he couldn't break free off. Now, however, his adoring attentions that fed into her, were turned toward a different voice.
That night she sought comfort without a word. She forgot herself. It hurt too much; even more that she had done this to herself. She had known her Crow's decision ever since that day when he denied Genesis. Despite all of his words, she had helped him-fooling herself, over and over-about what was important to him. What was important to her. He had never asked her to do any of this, and instead, as her wings became tied, she did it on her own accord. Babylon was discovering AT by her hand, and the world that her brother hated was being established for him. Simca left before Lockon awakened that morning, pulling up her AT and leaving with a flutter of feathers out of his window. "Simca did this to herself," she was reminded, "for herself."
As the binds of her love snapped around her wings, she came to the place that she had been.
"We're back where we started."