|Manifest Cupid de Locke
Author: Rashaka PM
drabble: your world be shattered with narry a noteRated: Fiction K+ - English - Kyon & Haruhi S. - Words: 395 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 6 - Published: 06-10-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4313222
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
There's a ton of song references in this. Several from the Smashing Pumpkins, including the title. Don't even try to apply grammar; it's a lost battle.
Manifest Cupid de Locke
The world moves on to another place when she tumbles through the door, because there's no place that she's not. There's laughter, or anger, or blood that's high with fire.The songs come, and the wind is a storm at her feet.
Her chair is her throne, but it's plastic and steel melting into loneliness. When she closes her eyes, she lives in a world of one. But there's a sun in that world, behind the iris, and there's mystery and magic and ships and time descending.
Against the door, she breathes and grins but her eyes are still closed and the world is a blackness that she can't see. Open, and it's gone, and everyone is waiting. They always wait, and she always appears, and the cacophony between her lips falls a benediction.
In her hands is a treasure, an offering to time's river temple. The room is her altar and the box that sings, sings her hymns. High above, between two hands, it sings and she dances, and her accolytes watch.
The radio is crusty and old, and the foreign songs that come scratch through speakers toward freedom. She laughs and claps, and they're captured again, and she's happy, and everything gleams.
She's got diamonds on the soles of her shoes.
"I love this song!"
"Of course, you would."
The music is a gift, secret and theirs, and it grows into the widow ledge with black roots and metal branches. She has made it a part of the world, and when her act of genesis is complete, she gifts her follows again. With purpose, with fear, with divine arrows she grabs at their attention swift and quick.
Paper spills from the crevasse of her hands, a white flurry of notes, and there will be no games today. Today it's the charge, the hunt, the cascading symphony of screams and giggles. In between, in the cracks, she nudges until the clay fits the mold she sees in the sky.
When did I become a believer?
She asks "Well, are you with me?" and the world changes again.