ficlets100 - number seven.

Jul 06, 2014 10:40



001. Guilt
002. New
003.Solitude
004. Content
005. Tale

006. Distort
007. Luxury
008. Listen
009. Party
010. Scent

011. Storm
012. Lessons
013.Apology
014. Relief
015. Breeze

016.Fading
017. Passion
018. Stay
019.Rain
020. Within

021.Dread
022.Revenge
023.Time
024.Perfect
025.Eyes

026.Bloom
027.Beginning
028. Bath
029. Object
030. Lost

031.Pride
032. Death
033 ( Read more... )

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TTGL / To Terra -> ⌈o8.⌋ Listen. rawri August 25 2009, 16:36:44 UTC
Part IV to this.
The humans were devising something. Well, they were always devising something, being the ambitious little beasts (not-beasts) that they were, but this was different.

Humans didn’t change. They adapted, they advanced, but they didn’t change.

They didn’t leave Earth behind for long, either.

Maybe his first clue was when they began to call Earth ‘Terra,’ when they spoke of history less and less and simply emphasized how wonderful of a planet it was. He’d lurked outside out an open-window school (at least they still had that- someone with red hair would be proud) before, mostly out of boredom - it was hilarious, that the humans were trying to restrain themselves to a single area, although it wasn’t as funny when Viral realized he was as close to an animal as these people would see, outside of the zoo - and heard stories of how perfect of a world Terra was; he’d sat back and thought on the twisting desert, the raging tundra, the blood and bones and skeletons buried everywhere, the fallout and the death, and wondered ( ... )

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rawri August 25 2009, 16:36:56 UTC
It was a quiet boy, a fragile boy, something that Viral knew instinctively when the boy fell down and immediately scraped up his palm. Now, Viral knew plenty of languages, but it’d been long enough since talking last that he didn’t feel like doing it at all, and so this rugrat blond-haired child was given a snarl (how cute, the boy just stared at his fangs), and if he could’ve, he would’ve hit the kid in the face with his cape as he turned.

They would always be stupid, naked monkeys. That wouldn’t ever change.

“Who are you?”

He paused, thought about answering, thought about even hearing what the weak boy was asking. But he did hear, pondered on that ‘who’ and not the ‘what,’ and he answered, “Viral.” Didn’t care enough to ask what the other’s name was - took another look at those wide red eyes (when had humans gotten that color?), bared his teeth in what he dully remembered was a ‘smile,’ turned and left. It was that easy to turn from the people who’d left their own home planet behind ( ... )

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