Immortal memory had all but been dissolved.
In a pocket there were letters, pieces of her life tucked away, mostly addressed to her; a few unopened and those that were she was unsure why, but she kept them just the same.
Some were communications from comrades, who were little more than strangers to her.
some were letters she had written with the intention of sending them abandoned...
and some were as intimate as sheets stained with an ink that left their traces in her that could never be erased. Traces that could be followed.
Her envy-green gaze followed her hand as it traveled upon her own reflection....
but it was someone else's hand that skipped across her line of sight like the blink of her eyes.
She'd been out of touch. "Jass Strata.." her fingers tapped lightly at her lips, as if trying to touch at who she was. But instead of her own voice, she heard the haunting baritone of a man lurking in the forsaken of recollection. It was only for this that she knew her own name.
So much needed explaining, needed to be absorbed.....
She needed so much...
Her condition, this situation made her seem so frail, in the ghostly reminder of the human her existence began as.
But there was an inhuman gnawing in her that made her ache and a heat that broke a sweat across her brow crawled beneath her skin. Her reflection became distorted as the glass mirror before her began to melt.
A naked man lay panting behind her in his bed, his sleeping body left to perish of exhaustion in the disturbance of his subconscious...
His soft cries of distress went ignored in the temporal realm, as with concentration she fed in another...
yet still she was unsatisfied...
still famished..
She turned away from the ruin of her reflection, the mirror...from the dead man....and turned her thoughts to the Ruiner....
She can't be held responsible
for anything she might do...
and she won't be held responsible
for anything she wants to do.
Posted: Sat Mar 27, 2010 7:16 am