Seven Drabbles and a Silver Tear
I seem to find titles more easily now. This doesn't mean they are better.
Anyway, enjoy !
#32 Ritual - (Rodoreamon/Mamiina) - Precious Stone
‘You’re hesitating.’ Paraietta stated.
Rodoreamon sighed, then nodded. ‘How did you... ?’
‘You’re always tugging at your necklace when in doubt.’ she answered. ‘That makes you easy to read through.’
Rodoreamon took the gemstone pendant in her hand, watching it thoughtfully.
‘It’s the same color than her eyes, isn’t it ?’ Paraietta whispered, wondering if she could talk of her without hurting her friend.
‘Yes.’
She held the jewel to the light, making the whole room shining in bright green nuances. And there, at the core of the stone, Paraietta could see two strands of deep blue hair.
#31 Spring - (Anubituf/Guragief) - Changes
‘I don’t feel different at all.’
‘Of course you don’t. You’re still Guragie.’
‘... ief.’
‘What ?’
‘Guragief.’
‘I heard that. I mean... what ?’
Guragief frowned at him. His calm stare was enough to make Anubituf hesitate on his next words.
‘You chose this... too ?’, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Does that mean... ? I thought we were...
Guragief only nodded.
They looked back at each other, and burst out laughing.
‘I should have known we were both too headstrong to take a sensible decision.’ said Anubituf, but he was smiling. They were both smiling.
Of course.
#37 Smell - (Rodoreamon) - Salt Soup
Rodoreamon was walking through the buildings’ ashes, searching for hidden survivors. The last attack had come from the sky, hard and unforgiving like a thunderstorm.
Around a corner, she spotted an old woman giving out soup, surrounded by refugees. And above the pitiful scene, above the strong scent of sweat, blood and destruction, there was a perfume she knew too well.
Suddenly, she found herself in the crowd, asking for a bowl of soup as well.
‘This smell...’
‘Mice soup, madam. Only thing I could find here... Hey, are you okay ?’
Rodoreamon could only nod, tears falling in her bowl.
#33 Hairbrush (Rodoreamon) - Simple Things (Hurt The Most)
In the end, it always come back to the simplest things, Rodoreamon thought as she brushed her hair.
Simple things like hair, and braids.
It was Paraietta who remarked it first, the way that she plaited her hair. But she didn’t say anything since Kaimu asked, at one of their dinners.
She said it reminded her of Mamiina’s ideals.
But the truth was it reminded her of Mamiina. Of her words - ‘I have always loved your braids’ - of her eyes as she cut her hair, of her braid lying in Yun’s nest. Of her love.
#6 Soul (Morinas/Wapourif) - Birds
‘You see, they are subtly different. This one, that we call the Tempest D, has an sharp nose with two guns instead of one, and an awning at the back. It looks like a bird of prey.’
Morinas looked at the machine, softly caressing the cool metal.
‘It’s a proof Simoun really are the gods’ tank. If we humans did it, they would have been all identical.’
The sybilla nodded absently, lost in her thoughts. Then she asked : ‘A bird of prey ?’.
‘All Simouns are birds, different but still the same soul. Do you feel it ?’
‘I do.’
#42 Gun (Aaeru and Paraietta) - Pointless
‘Then why do they have guns ? If the Simoun were only to pray and celebrate the sky, we wouldn’t need guns.’ said Aaeru. The whole conversation was beginning to get on her nerves. Why did she let Paraietta begin her prayers-and-sacred speech anyway ?
‘It’s still prayers ! It’s not because we can defend-‘
‘Destroy enemies.’
‘-defend our country that they aren’t prayers anymore.’
Aaeru sighed. This was going nowhere, and they knew it. Somehow it was even more infuriating.
‘The Ri Maajon are prayers. The guns aren’t. So they have no reason to exist, do they ?’
#70 Hot (Kaimu) - Invisible, Untouchable, Insensitive
A little hotter, just a little.
Kaimu reveled in the delicious feeling of the boiling hot water on her sensitive skin. She shivered, feeling the heat wave running down her spine. Eyes closed, hardly breathing, she tried to convince herself she was part of the water flowing on her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, and even lower. She wanted to dissolve in little drops, soaking the floor. She wanted to free her mind.
Still she couldn’t escape the ghost of another warmth, her too vivid memories. She sighed, reaching out for the faucet.
A little hotter, just a little...
Anyway, enjoy !
#32 Ritual - (Rodoreamon/Mamiina) - Precious Stone
‘You’re hesitating.’ Paraietta stated.
Rodoreamon sighed, then nodded. ‘How did you... ?’
‘You’re always tugging at your necklace when in doubt.’ she answered. ‘That makes you easy to read through.’
Rodoreamon took the gemstone pendant in her hand, watching it thoughtfully.
‘It’s the same color than her eyes, isn’t it ?’ Paraietta whispered, wondering if she could talk of her without hurting her friend.
‘Yes.’
She held the jewel to the light, making the whole room shining in bright green nuances. And there, at the core of the stone, Paraietta could see two strands of deep blue hair.
#31 Spring - (Anubituf/Guragief) - Changes
‘I don’t feel different at all.’
‘Of course you don’t. You’re still Guragie.’
‘... ief.’
‘What ?’
‘Guragief.’
‘I heard that. I mean... what ?’
Guragief frowned at him. His calm stare was enough to make Anubituf hesitate on his next words.
‘You chose this... too ?’, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Does that mean... ? I thought we were...
Guragief only nodded.
They looked back at each other, and burst out laughing.
‘I should have known we were both too headstrong to take a sensible decision.’ said Anubituf, but he was smiling. They were both smiling.
Of course.
#37 Smell - (Rodoreamon) - Salt Soup
Rodoreamon was walking through the buildings’ ashes, searching for hidden survivors. The last attack had come from the sky, hard and unforgiving like a thunderstorm.
Around a corner, she spotted an old woman giving out soup, surrounded by refugees. And above the pitiful scene, above the strong scent of sweat, blood and destruction, there was a perfume she knew too well.
Suddenly, she found herself in the crowd, asking for a bowl of soup as well.
‘This smell...’
‘Mice soup, madam. Only thing I could find here... Hey, are you okay ?’
Rodoreamon could only nod, tears falling in her bowl.
#33 Hairbrush (Rodoreamon) - Simple Things (Hurt The Most)
In the end, it always come back to the simplest things, Rodoreamon thought as she brushed her hair.
Simple things like hair, and braids.
It was Paraietta who remarked it first, the way that she plaited her hair. But she didn’t say anything since Kaimu asked, at one of their dinners.
She said it reminded her of Mamiina’s ideals.
But the truth was it reminded her of Mamiina. Of her words - ‘I have always loved your braids’ - of her eyes as she cut her hair, of her braid lying in Yun’s nest. Of her love.
#6 Soul (Morinas/Wapourif) - Birds
‘You see, they are subtly different. This one, that we call the Tempest D, has an sharp nose with two guns instead of one, and an awning at the back. It looks like a bird of prey.’
Morinas looked at the machine, softly caressing the cool metal.
‘It’s a proof Simoun really are the gods’ tank. If we humans did it, they would have been all identical.’
The sybilla nodded absently, lost in her thoughts. Then she asked : ‘A bird of prey ?’.
‘All Simouns are birds, different but still the same soul. Do you feel it ?’
‘I do.’
#42 Gun (Aaeru and Paraietta) - Pointless
‘Then why do they have guns ? If the Simoun were only to pray and celebrate the sky, we wouldn’t need guns.’ said Aaeru. The whole conversation was beginning to get on her nerves. Why did she let Paraietta begin her prayers-and-sacred speech anyway ?
‘It’s still prayers ! It’s not because we can defend-‘
‘Destroy enemies.’
‘-defend our country that they aren’t prayers anymore.’
Aaeru sighed. This was going nowhere, and they knew it. Somehow it was even more infuriating.
‘The Ri Maajon are prayers. The guns aren’t. So they have no reason to exist, do they ?’
#70 Hot (Kaimu) - Invisible, Untouchable, Insensitive
A little hotter, just a little.
Kaimu reveled in the delicious feeling of the boiling hot water on her sensitive skin. She shivered, feeling the heat wave running down her spine. Eyes closed, hardly breathing, she tried to convince herself she was part of the water flowing on her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, and even lower. She wanted to dissolve in little drops, soaking the floor. She wanted to free her mind.
Still she couldn’t escape the ghost of another warmth, her too vivid memories. She sighed, reaching out for the faucet.
A little hotter, just a little...