``waking to y o u | [miyu]

[Trench]

♠ Where was that pride, where had it gone? He stares at her, and she stares back, that damned smile curling her lips, and behind it, the crusted blood, the open wounds, the spilled innards, yet still he stares, fighting back the revulsion at the image, so fresh upon his mind for his vision, his memory, yet still he stares; where has it gone, that pride, sister, sister, are you not pleased anymore? Sister, can I have disgraced you so soon? I’m sorry, sister, I’m sorry! Just please, please, don’t smile that way, don’t taunt me so, don’t leave me to the mercy of that smile! Please, sister, please, don’t abandon me to your shame, don’t leave me to that failure! Brother! And she smiles! All she does is smile, no light of pride within her eyes anymore, and she stares back, and she smiles, standing there, just beyond his reach, though he runs himself ragged, bounding, lunging, his paws pounding across the soil, he runs himself ragged for her, and yet still she recedes, always beyond the reach, and she stares, and she smiles! That image so fresh, so raw, and he sees it now, again before his eyes, the blood and gore, her ripped up fur, and a growl rips itself form his chest, tearing its path out past the wing which fills his mouth; shut up, shut up! The word would echo within his brain again, the image would curse him to relive that night, but he won’t fall to it again, and he runs all the harder, feeling the wounds pull open again along his underside, taking pleasure, taking relief, in the pain which sears across them, in the blood he leaves behind, flowing openly to drop upon the earth, to fall into the waiting mouth of the soil which drinks it up with a thirst even he could not understand. Yet she’s still there, and she smiles, and she calls to him, and the name threatens to destroy him once more, to stab across his mind, to lance into his heart, into his soul, and suddenly, without thought, as though merely upon reflex, he stops.

your touch is what i’m missing

♠ His claws drag his body to a halt, reaching within the ground, and he comes grinding to a halt, whirling about, as though it would erase her vision from his mind, as though he could escape, and yet she is there, waiting for him as he turns around, always waiting, and she smiles again. His claws reach further within the ground, seeking some anchor, some base, and he only wishes it were his own flesh into which they sank, so that the pain might ease his mind from her, yet even the throb of wounds which he has yet to let close does not aid him now. He waits, he waits for her; where the hell is she?! She had followed, he had heard her, now where the hell was she?! A distraction, yes, yes, a distraction, that’s what he needs, or perhaps her hatred, her fury; might she attack him again? Perhaps he would ask it, order it, command it of her; would she do it? Or would her pride interfere? Would the order, would the shame of follow his command kill the joy she might otherwise take in carving his flesh? Perhaps he should find out, maybe he would; but would it do any good? Damn it, where is she?! He is about to holler, his mouth gapes to do so, and form it spills the wing, and it drops with a rustle of ebony feathers and a thud upon the ground; he has forgotten, he has forgotten; the wing first, yes, the wings first, he cannot find out just yet, for the wings first. Yet still he must wait, for the other is with her, and both must die, both must be hidden away, destroyed, gotten rid of; yes, both, for he’d not see either again! Yet where is she, where is she?! He waits.

_{♠ ripshank
♠ 667
♠ lyrics © skillet
♠ meh, rippy hates starting posts xD}
[/size]

[Miyu]

when logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead

Danger, they whisper, danger, danger, stay away, stay away, danger.
She keeps walking anyway, ignoring the voices, the soft whispers of fear, the only clarity in her muddle of a mind.
The wing drags on the ground, the once-beautiful ebony crow's wings muddying and growing brown with dirt, and yet she doesn't care, doesn't care for the wings she once loved with all her heart. She was a slave now, trapped in Wonderland, growing and shrinking, living with the Mad Hatter for all eternity. Oh, yes, she was trapped now, at least until she died.

and the white knight is talking backwards, and the red queen's 'off with her head'

But she couldn't die. Not now. Not yet. She had to finish what she started, oh yes, she made a vow the first time she saw that bastard tyrant: "Don't give up 'til you're dead," she had muttered to herself then, so bright and courageous and full of confidence. Where had that confidence gone now? With the dormouse? Did the White Rabbit take it? Where's the Mad Hatter? Oh, there he is, standing there with her wing, the madness swirling in his eyes, swirling in her head. Mirrors they were, the eye and the mind, for the eye was the window to the soul, was it not? The eye was the rabbit hole that led to Wonderland, was it not?

remember what the dormouse said, 'keep your head, keep your head'

No, no, she couldn't let these thoughts take over her head, she had to stay sane, at least for now. When her duty was carried out, then she could let herself slip, but not now, not now.
Danger, they whispered, danger, stay away, stay away.
Again she ignored them.
The warning, fearful whispers, the whispers that carried the fading bit of her sanity, she rejected, shoved into a corner of her head for later. Go into the teapot, little voice, have a drink with the dormouse.
She approached the Broken-Wing King, fearless yet again, for sanity was what kept you cautious, and caution was with the wind now.
"Broken-Wing King," Miyu mock-purred, anger coating her words. "Your slave has done your bidding, majesty. She has brought you the accursed wing you requested."
Oh, no, she couldn't slip now. She still had one last tea party with the Hatter.

•miyu
•410
•lyrics © white rabbit by jefferson airplane
•ooc; I'm a bit obsessed with Alice in Wonderland right now, sorry about that. T-T
WOO! 400-WORD POST! XDD

[Trench]

♠ She smiles, she smiles, for she is taking too long, has fallen too far behind, and he is left to that smile, and he stares, captured, helpless, left to her mercy, to a mercy which does not exist in this specter, in this apparition, in this mock image of her beautiful frame, of her innocence. And she smiles, and he stares, and she laughs, and he cringes. Would you hurt me, sister, if I asked you to? Brother! And she laughs, his gaze drops, but he hears her yet, her laughter ringing about his ears, and he can see the smile, conjured within his mind, her hold which he cannot escape. Do you love me, sister? Did you ever? Brother, brother, I missed you so! Stop it, sister, stop it! Listen to me, hear me, for once! Take this seriously, please, please! Brother! And she laughs, again and again, taunting him, mocking him, for his words mean nothing, his words have never meant anything to her, and he lifts his paw, claws dragging free of the ground, brandished in the air for but a moment before they drop upon his face, caressing scars, following their path, lines upon either side of his eyes, dragging forth the blood from within, banishing her image as his eyes slide closed against the pain brought so close, pain so threatening, yet pain so relieving, joining the throb of slowly closing wounds, of muscles run ragged, and the image fades but does not leave. She smiles and smiles as his paw drops and his claws dig within the soil once more, and he waits, his eyes escaping the trap of his lids, his gaze searching, and he waits and waits, until, at last, her very image is disrupted, shattered, and she bounds through it, and replaces it before his eyes, only for the memory to reform behind her, a constant distraction, but he ignores, yes, he ignores, and he watches her.

your touch is what i’m missing

♠ She speaks, and he listens, glad for the noise, for the distraction, for it drowns out the laughter which rings about his ears, and he watches her, picks his gaze across the treacherous terrain of her anger, her hatred, and he is glad, he is glad. He is glad of the hatred which lashes against his ears, freed by her words to strike out at him, glad of the fire which burns within her orbs and licks outwards towards him, the fire which would burn him, scar him, consume him, until nothing was left, no, not even the image beyond his gaze; should he let it? He would join her, then, oh yes, would join her, not this image which mocks and berates, which taunts and hates him, but truly, truly her; should he give himself to that fire, that hatred, be consumed by it, the final sacrifice? No, no, not yet, not yet, for more is to be done, oh yes, always more to be done; just wait, sister, just wait, you miss me, I know, and I miss you, but wait, and watch; I’ll make you proud, I’ll make you love me; can we be happy, then, when all is done? He shakes himself suddenly, actions still compulsive, halting, his mind thinking faster than his body can obey, leading it stumbling along, and he refocuses, watches her, and speaks. ”Bury them. Shred them. Eat them, for all I care. Just get rid of them, destroy them, and quickly!” Too fast, too fast, his thoughts are spilling outwards with his voice, he’ll say too much, oh yes, he must be careful, and all at once he ceases to speak, draws a ragged breath, gathers the shattered pieces of himself back to him, and speaks once again. ”I don’t give a damn how you do it, but you’ll destroy them, right now, so I can watch.”

_{♠ ripshank
♠ 642
♠ lyrics © skillet
♠ Ahh, sorry for the wait; his muse is on the fritz >.< But at least he’s awake now, haha}
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[Miyu]

you're always falling in disguise

She could not help but laugh; realization was a powerful force, and it made her as free as a bird. The Broken-Wing King, ha! more like the Broken-Wing fool.
Oh yes, she saw the madness swirling in his eyes, she heard the tiny, tiny hint of compassion in his voice when he spoke of his Lachrymosa. She knew that there was someone, somewhere, that he cared about, and she knew that he had lost that someone.
And now it was killing him-- no, it was doing worse, much worse.
It was driving him insane.

and always quick to compromise

Insanity was something she was familiar with; it had been with her almost her entire life. No, not as a friend, not as an enemy, but something... something more.
She did not know it in her conscience mind, but Miyu was, in fact, somewhat insane. Not as far gone as the pretty tough boy with the broken wings, oh, no, not that far, but far enough.
Far enough to walk around him, purring deep, deep within her chest, and walks back, walks back to her wing, her precious, precious wing, and all that hatred, all that rage, it wells up again, but she calms it, soothes it with a murmured word.
'Soon.'

kick off your stilettos, kick off your stilettos

How infuriating was this madness, how infuriating the arrogance, how infuriating the outside rigidness when she knew, she knew, there was some compassion inside just waiting to get out.
But she ignored this, for now, at least, and walked back to her precious, precious wing, and slowly but surely, mocking him, taunting him, attempting to drive him off the edge, she took the wing apart, feather by feather.

•miyu
•295
•lyrics © fer sure
•ooc; sorry I took so long, been busy. T-T