Curtain Call
3: Cosmic Love - Florence and the Machine
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.
Summary: He doesn’t know how long he has been there. Time seems to have come to a standstill amongst the nothingness that stretches to infinity in all directions, though, he muses, it’s entirely possible that it has just accelerated and left him behind. In which Meera goes on an Acid trip. Minus the Acid.
Curtain Call [FF.NET]
He doesn’t know how long he has been there. Time seems to have come to a standstill amongst the nothingness that stretches to infinity in all directions, though, he muses, it’s entirely possible that it has just accelerated and left him behind.
There is no sun to cast shadows, no sky to hold stars, no moon that waxes and wanes and no seasons to measure time’s passage.
If there have ever been any winds in this world, they have halted since his arrival. Or perhaps he has just lost the ability to feel, tactility stripped from him in this limbo where the senses are numbed because there is nothing to be sensed.
Or so he had thought.
It is some time later - seconds, days, months - when he feels the first pulse.
He is shocked by the sensation; rendered speechless in the world where his words would not be heard anyway, mind registering a feeling of warmth through his extremities.
How his body mind soul recognises the feeling is beyond him. He only knows that it is something he wants to experience again, with all his heart.
It is with this thought that the next throb occurs, though this time there is more. The remnants of lost emotion swirl about him before he can touch them, and he is now conscious of his fingers reaching out in an attempt to capture them; regret, longing, love, bitterness, affection. They flit from his grasp like butterflies dancing in the soft spring breeze, too fleeting for him to grasp.
He doesn’t understand what this means, but if he listens… yes. Concentration prevails as he feels the gentle throb in his mind, steady and unyielding, encompassing his very being. An instinct pulls him forward, and legs unused for some time stumble forwards. There is nothing to see here, just emptiness, so he closes his eyes and lets his feet guide him.
The beat is therapeutic, familiar almost, and the sentiments that had so escaped him only moments before become stronger as though entwined in the sound and feeling of the thump-thump that so draws him.
Again, his intuition twinges, and a hand reaches out into nothing knowing not what it seeks. He should feel surprised when his hand is grasped in a trembling hold, but the contours and calluses in the skin feel familiar and comforting. His eyes are still closed as he is pulled forward, feels the last vestiges of cool emptiness cling to his skin as he tumbles away, liberated from the prison that he had been condemned to.
“Prussia…”
Eyes fluttering open on impulse - right, Prussia, that had been his name - he stares into twin pools of green, feels blond strands tickle his nose and rough fingers run down the side of his cheek as though in awe.
“I’m back,” he croaks, neglected vocal chords straining. He is silenced by a pair of lips brushing against his own, before England’s own consciousness fades. There are bags under his eyes, and if it were not for the quiet snuffle of England’s breath against his neck, Prussia would be concerned that the Brit had willingly traded his own life to save the Prussian’s.
For now, he is content to brush fingers through gold locks as he reacquaints himself to the sensation, staring up into the starless sky which stretches above them.
-Hollyrose-
A/N: So apparently I write really weird surreal/abstract shit when I'm in a bad mood or a m upset? XD Learn something new every day I suppose~ Anyway, I've been having a rough couple of days - I think I've managed to sort everything out now though. The worst of it was on Wednesday, which is when I wrote this ^^' You'll notice that this was actually track 3 in the meme rather than track 2? I'd gone back to the house for the day but didn't have the internet to look up stuff for song #2, and ended up with this thing instead XD
So, if you didn't get what was going on in this which I really wouldn't blame you for, basically Prussia has finally faded completely/died as eventually the East and West Germans have fully integrated and is now in limbo (kind of like the last drabble in the crossover meme I did) but is saved by England who uses his magic to bring him back.
The way I'm thinking of Limbo in this piece is kind of like... you don't take your body there so it's just your soul which holds your conciousness or identity. With time, it loses definition and the soul kind of disperses like particles of a gas being let out of a cannister and then mixes with the existing air. If that makes sense.
England's magic helps to redefine his soul as one whole entity for it to cross over again to the land of the living.
...I have a feeling I'm not making much sense anymore (XD Oh dear, on another acid trip without actually taking anything perhaps?) but it's kind of like the deal with essence in Jonathan Stroud's Ptolemy's Gate (lovelovelove that book and trilogy <3). For someone who doesn't believe in Heaven/Hell/Limbo I seem to have put a lot of thought into this...
Edit: Okay, I have a title for now! Why Curtain Call? I figure Gilbert's life before he faded was the main act, then his life ending in effect was the end of the 'show' and England bringing him back is his curtain call. It makes sense in my head! D=
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.
Summary: He doesn’t know how long he has been there. Time seems to have come to a standstill amongst the nothingness that stretches to infinity in all directions, though, he muses, it’s entirely possible that it has just accelerated and left him behind. In which Meera goes on an Acid trip. Minus the Acid.
Curtain Call [FF.NET]
He doesn’t know how long he has been there. Time seems to have come to a standstill amongst the nothingness that stretches to infinity in all directions, though, he muses, it’s entirely possible that it has just accelerated and left him behind.
There is no sun to cast shadows, no sky to hold stars, no moon that waxes and wanes and no seasons to measure time’s passage.
If there have ever been any winds in this world, they have halted since his arrival. Or perhaps he has just lost the ability to feel, tactility stripped from him in this limbo where the senses are numbed because there is nothing to be sensed.
Or so he had thought.
It is some time later - seconds, days, months - when he feels the first pulse.
He is shocked by the sensation; rendered speechless in the world where his words would not be heard anyway, mind registering a feeling of warmth through his extremities.
How his body mind soul recognises the feeling is beyond him. He only knows that it is something he wants to experience again, with all his heart.
It is with this thought that the next throb occurs, though this time there is more. The remnants of lost emotion swirl about him before he can touch them, and he is now conscious of his fingers reaching out in an attempt to capture them; regret, longing, love, bitterness, affection. They flit from his grasp like butterflies dancing in the soft spring breeze, too fleeting for him to grasp.
He doesn’t understand what this means, but if he listens… yes. Concentration prevails as he feels the gentle throb in his mind, steady and unyielding, encompassing his very being. An instinct pulls him forward, and legs unused for some time stumble forwards. There is nothing to see here, just emptiness, so he closes his eyes and lets his feet guide him.
The beat is therapeutic, familiar almost, and the sentiments that had so escaped him only moments before become stronger as though entwined in the sound and feeling of the thump-thump that so draws him.
Again, his intuition twinges, and a hand reaches out into nothing knowing not what it seeks. He should feel surprised when his hand is grasped in a trembling hold, but the contours and calluses in the skin feel familiar and comforting. His eyes are still closed as he is pulled forward, feels the last vestiges of cool emptiness cling to his skin as he tumbles away, liberated from the prison that he had been condemned to.
“Prussia…”
Eyes fluttering open on impulse - right, Prussia, that had been his name - he stares into twin pools of green, feels blond strands tickle his nose and rough fingers run down the side of his cheek as though in awe.
“I’m back,” he croaks, neglected vocal chords straining. He is silenced by a pair of lips brushing against his own, before England’s own consciousness fades. There are bags under his eyes, and if it were not for the quiet snuffle of England’s breath against his neck, Prussia would be concerned that the Brit had willingly traded his own life to save the Prussian’s.
For now, he is content to brush fingers through gold locks as he reacquaints himself to the sensation, staring up into the starless sky which stretches above them.
-Hollyrose-
A/N: So apparently I write really weird surreal/abstract shit when I'm in a bad mood or a m upset? XD Learn something new every day I suppose~ Anyway, I've been having a rough couple of days - I think I've managed to sort everything out now though. The worst of it was on Wednesday, which is when I wrote this ^^' You'll notice that this was actually track 3 in the meme rather than track 2? I'd gone back to the house for the day but didn't have the internet to look up stuff for song #2, and ended up with this thing instead XD
So, if you didn't get what was going on in this which I really wouldn't blame you for, basically Prussia has finally faded completely/died as eventually the East and West Germans have fully integrated and is now in limbo (kind of like the last drabble in the crossover meme I did) but is saved by England who uses his magic to bring him back.
The way I'm thinking of Limbo in this piece is kind of like... you don't take your body there so it's just your soul which holds your conciousness or identity. With time, it loses definition and the soul kind of disperses like particles of a gas being let out of a cannister and then mixes with the existing air. If that makes sense.
England's magic helps to redefine his soul as one whole entity for it to cross over again to the land of the living.
...I have a feeling I'm not making much sense anymore (XD Oh dear, on another acid trip without actually taking anything perhaps?) but it's kind of like the deal with essence in Jonathan Stroud's Ptolemy's Gate (lovelovelove that book and trilogy <3). For someone who doesn't believe in Heaven/Hell/Limbo I seem to have put a lot of thought into this...
Edit: Okay, I have a title for now! Why Curtain Call? I figure Gilbert's life before he faded was the main act, then his life ending in effect was the end of the 'show' and England bringing him back is his curtain call. It makes sense in my head! D=