Outrun the Storm

//TW: Identity Crisis, Mild Depressive Episode, Disregard for personal safety

Deep down, he knows he should have just warped to Hateno. He's only Hylian, he can't outrun a winter storm, especially not one coming down from Lanayru, but it's too late for that now. He's too far from the shrine in the Domain, and on top of that, it will soothe the itch under his skin better if he walks. He needs to wander or he is gong to do something stupid. He may do something stupid anyway, just to get it out of his system. The wind is screaming and the rain is pelting him with the intent to bruise, and it is the best thing he has felt in ages, save for the many nights he's spent talking with Sidon far later than is advisable. In this weather it will take him close to a week to get back to Hateno. Maybe longer in the event he decides to take the scenic route, or if the monsters are particularly dense. The rain makes him think of Mipha. He doesn't remember her, not really, but he knows from Sidon's stories that she his kind, from her own spirit that she was also a Champion, and from every other Zora that she had apparently loved him dearly. He just doesn't know how he felt about her, if he felt anything at all. With the other three Champions there was at least something, but with Mipha it is frustratingly blank. When it rains its worse, and he doesn't know if that is because of Vah Ruta or something else.

He of course has the things Sidon has told him of her. They were childhood friends, or at least as close to it as a Hylian and a Zora could get, and she had marveled at his recklessness. She was a healer by nature, he knew that even before making use of her divine Grace, and he wondered how much of that marveling had actually been worry. It wasn't like he could ever remember her commenting on it; as it was he could barely remember what she looked like. The winter rain had chilled him already despite his Rito armor, but then again it was meant to keep away the cold of snow, not water. He was a quarter of the way down the path out of the Domain, if he could find an outcrop or a cave he could take a break for a moment and start a fire. The thought of being still even for that long aggravated the itch under his skin, there would be no resting here. He'd already stayed in the Domain for too long. Not in the sense that he had overstayed his welcome, he knew that, it was more that he had been in the same place for too long. There was plenty to explore, but after a while it wasn't enough to keep the urge to be lost at bay. He hadn't left when it started getting bad, because leaving meant saying goodbye to Sidon and he hadn't wanted to do that just yet. Being around Sidon was easy, and he'd grown used to it. In the Domain he wasn't a Hero or a Knight; he was just a strange little Hylian with too much energy and not enough to do. He enjoyed running errands for the other Zora, diving off questionably high ledges just because he could, and talking with Sidon until all hours of the night because time felt like it stopped when it was just the two of them. So he had stayed until the need to get out and explore had become physically painful.

By mid afternoon Link is cold enough that it's almost painful. Rather than make a camp of his own he takes over a lizalfos camp and settles by what had been their fire. It saves him some resources and time in that he no longer has to try and fight with the rain to get a fire started. The fight ended quickly but it helped to settle some of his nervous energy. He sits as close to the fire as he can get without risking igniting himself or his armor, he's done that enough times to know it won't help him get warm. As much as it had seemed like it at the time. He pulls out the Slate to try and make a plan, the first step is obviously going back to Hateno. He needs to check his mail in case Zelda sent him anything that  requires his immediate attention, or rather had, he's a little late for that now. He'll stock up on weapons and supplies while here's there. Then what? If he heads toward Kakriko he'll be moving on long the edge of the storm, assuming it comes down from Lanayru at all. If it does it will bring snow and that's not something Link wants to be caught in. He could head back to Gerudo Valley, but he doesn't really feeling like getting all manner of sun burnt just to have to dress like a girl. There's not much to explore out that way anyway. Just sand that he won't be able to get out of his armor for months, and heat stroke if he isn't careful. Sidon would love the Kara Kara Bazaar though. The thought catches Link off guard and he stares into the fire for a long moment. Sidon spent a lot of time talking about how much he would love to see the world beyond the Domain eventually. He often asked Link about his travels, and Link indulged him as best he could. He left out most of the dangerous stuff of course, Sidon worried about him enough without Link having to throw that into the mix. He puts a pin on his map in the area he remembers the Bazaar being.

It's well after dark by the time Link is warm enough to get moving again. So instead of doing something he knows will get him lectured by both Zelda and Sidon, he adds wood to the fire and lays down with his head resting on his arm and settles in to get a few hours of sleep. Even now, going on two years after the Calamity, he still can't sleep through the night. He doesn't know how much of that is from it having been dangerous before, and how much if it is from his hundred year nap. He wakes up well before dawn, and even through there is no chance of the fire spreading due to the rain, he still puts out his campfire before moving on. His breakfast consists of  a couple of baked apples from his pack. He tosses the cores into the woods for the deer and starts down the domain road again. If he keeps up this pace he should be to the Wetlands stable by this time tomorrow. He'll be able too cook there, rent a bed, and grab one of his other horses to make the trip back to Hateno a little faster. He is well aware that riding a horse isn't going to help him beat the storm, but it could shave a day or so off his trip and that could make the difference between him being caught in the worst of it, and his being able to skirt around the edges of it. If he's lucky of course. The rain has lightened to a light drizzle for now, but it's still bitterly cold. Not quite a fine mist of frost, but close enough that the Rito armor does a better job of keeping him warm despite it's damp state. It would have meant leaving sooner, but as he splashes through yet another shin deep puddle, Link begins to think Sidon had been right, it would have been wiser to leave before the rain settled in.

By the time Link makes camp for the night, he's battered, bruised, half frozen, and frustrated enough to curse the goddess. He clears yet another camp and takes over their fire.  For a moment he thinks about taking off his soaked through armor and letting it dry by the fire. It's a bad idea. While he still has his warm doublet, the only decent pants he has are his leggings and they are too thin for this kind of weather. While they would be dry, he would still be freezing. On top of that  he's stiff, and changing clothes would be too much effort. He moves closer to the fire and steals one of the roasted bass stabbed onto a stick beside it. The monsters that cooked it won't be able to eat it anyway and he could use something warm. With something resembling dinner had, he lays down to try and sleep for a bit. He wakes up maybe an hour later soaking wet and very fucking cold. He sits up with a start to find that the dry camp he'd taken over has become a rather large puddle. He groans and sends another curse at the goddess. The rest of the path looks to be in a similar state. He resolves himself to another day of being damp and bitterly cold, but if he plays his cards right, he'll get to the Wetland stable today and he'll have a chance to dry off and get warm before continuing to Hateno.

When he finally reaches the stable he spends extra for a softer bed because honestly at this point he deserves it. There's a break in the rain that he takes advantage off by changing out of his Rito armor and letting it dry by the first fire. He takes to the cooking pot after that and cooks himself a proper meal. It's a less fancy version of a soup Sidon made him in the Domain that Link can't remember the name of but it warms  him to his bones. With food in his system and his warmest armor dry enough to at least bring inside the stable, Link settles on his bed and looks over his tablet. There is the one pin over the Kara Kara Bazaar, but that  won't be enough to cure his wanderlust. He could always go into Castle Town and see how the rebuilding is going, but if he lingers for too long Zelda might try and put him to work, then he would be stuck again. Maybe if he went with Sidon she would leave him be. He shakes his head to chase away that thought and instead places a pin at Tarrey Town , he could make his way there from Gerudo Valley and be on his way back to Zora's Domain after that. It's a few weeks each way, so by the time he reaches the Domain road again  the  worst of the winter storms should have passed. He doesn't know if the flooding will have gone down enough for him to make it back up, but he'll figure that out when he gets back. Sidon will be excited to hear about his trip, and if he plots the route correctly, maybe next time Sidon will be able to go with him.

Link wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but it’s nice to wake up dry and somewhat warm for a change. He's the first one awake so he gets dressed quietly and slips out of the stable. He takes Rue out of her stall and leaves a note with some rupees behind. She is tall enough that Link has to stand on the fence to get her saddle and halter properly on her, and that's after coaxing her to lower her head. She's the biggest horse Link has ever seen and taming her had been a feat in and of itself. She is as dark as a shadow with eyes that are on the line between brown and red depending on how the light hits them. Link takes a moment to adjust his balance before putting one leg into the stirrup closest to him and then swinging his other leg over. Rue shakes her head in what Link has decided is a show of excitement and they head out on their way. In this kind of weather it will still take him close to four days to get to Hateno, which is better than the week and some change it would have taken him to get there on foot. Rue doesn't exactly seem too happy that they're on the road before the sun has risen and she fusses. Link soothes her and later when they stop he'll giver a couple of his apples as a thank you. He doesn't have a lantern, he rides often enough at night that he probably should, but he's never gotten around to it. Maybe on the way back, if he remembers. He trusts Rue to know where she is going.

When day breaks and Link can actually see where he is going he puts the slate away and clicks at Rue to have her pick up the pace. And goddess above, does it feel good to have the wind howling through his hair again, even if it is bitter and cold and leaves his cheeks raw and stinging. He's missed this. He laughs, it’s a raw, jagged sound that is lost to the wind as soon as it leaves him. In his moment of joy he lets go of the reigns and holds his arms out, something he quickly remembers he shouldn't do while riding a horse at full tilt. Rue's speed and momentum sends him flying off of her back. When he hits the ground, the impact chases the air form his lungs. Rue stops as soon as she realizes Link is no longer in the saddle. When she turns to look at him she almost looks amused. It takes him a few minutes to catch his breath, and a few more to actually get to his feet.  He is going to be feeling this one for days. Rue nickers at him as he approaches, and Link rolls his eyes. This technically counts as a stop so he pulls an apple out of one of the saddle bags and offers it to her. She takes it from his hand and while she's enjoying it, Link hefts himself back into the saddle. From now until they reach Dueling Peaks he's going to keep at least one hand on the reigns.  He waits for Rue to lose interest in the grass where she'd eaten the apple before getting her back on the road.

He waits until they are in a more open part of the wetlands before he clicks Rue back into a run. The movement reveals that he likely bruised his ribs in the fall, but its less painful and more a persistent discomfort; he's dealt with worse and it doesn't bother him too much. It nearly midday when Link stops Rue again, if falling off of her back counted as a stop. He leads her to the river so she can drink, and for a moment he hopes to see Sidon. That hope quickly withered away though and left Link's chest aching. He was too far from the Domain, and Sidon wasn't going to leave if the storms were only going to get worse. The flooding wouldn't be an issue for him, Link knew that, but Sidon didn't like causing anyone unnecessary worry. Even then, the way the King had lectured him when they got back from Hateno had Link under the distinct impression that Sidon wouldn't be taking anymore surprise vacations any time soon. Link had felt bad at the time, for causing Sidon that much trouble, but the prince had only laughed and promised his father there wouldn't be nay more sneaking out for that long. Rue knocks her very wet nose against his forehead effectively pulling him from his thoughts. He presses his forehead into her face for a moment, just to collect himself before moving to pull himself back into the saddle. They keep going for a few more hours and then find a place to lay low for the night. He'll probably make a camp this time instead of taking one over. He doesn't want to risk Rue getting hurt.

When Link decides to stop and make camp it's closer to dark than dusk than he originally planned, but as far as he can tell they are at the midway point between the Wetland's stable and Dueling Peaks. Another day or so of riding and he can board Rue for a bit. He'd take her into Hateno, but he had Epona at the house and they don't get along. The last time he kept them at the same stable he wound up having to pay for the fence being rebuilt, and he would rather not have to do that for a house he stayed in a few times a year. That and Rue seemed to enjoy stables more than the house, where Epona didn't get on well with other horses for long periods of time. Link would have made a longer trip of this, just to spend more time with Rue if he wasn't feeling so pressed to get out into the world. Once he took care of what he needed to in Hateno he was going to continue on foot toward the desert. One reason being that he wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of anything else, and two because he wanted to explore and that was easier to on foot than on a horse. Rue settled by the fire once camp was set up and Link sat leaning against her to share warmth. It's nice and in a bittersweet way it reminds him of when he first set out to save Hyrule. Before he understood who and what he was, and how many people his refusal to step into his old role would let down. Back before he understood that he was seen as less of a person and more like another Divine Beast. Before he painstakingly tried to carve out his sense of self. Before he gave up and instead covered himself in silence and armor.

Link doesn't sleep much that night. He lets Rue rest but he doesn't sleep for anymore than an hour. Not because he feels unsafe, its quiet and calm, but because there is too much on his mind. As nice as being in Zora's Domain was, he remembers now what brought him there. It's the only place he's a person. Out here in the wilds, in the place that should have felt like home he's a weapon. A tool to be used by the goddess in the form of a princess. A princess who doesn't need him anymore. Out here he is loudly and painfully reminded that he has outlived his usefulness. The Calamity is gone, Zelda is fine on her own. He isn't needed anymore, not really. Which is fine, he never asked to be a Hero, to be denied death and then to outlive his fate. But now that he's no longer a hero, he isn't sure what he's supposed to be, what he's supposed to do. The rain turns to snow and Link wakes Rue so they can get on the road before the worst of it hits. He carefully stamps out what is left of his fire and heaves himself into the saddle. He doesn't work her into a run right away, he wants to have his wits about him more before that. The air is cold enough to sting even at this pace, so having Rue run would be painful, but he doesn't have a choice if he wants to miss the worst of this. He digs in his pack for the Sheika face mask and pulls that on to cover his mouth and nose from the worst of the cold and sets Rue into a run.

The wind still burns his cheeks and he has to squint just to see, but he imagines it would be worse without the mask covering the lower half of his face. By the time he stops so Rue can drink they've been walking for a couple hours. The now came down heavier and there's too much for her to run safely. As she drinks from the river Link scans the water for Sidon. He knows he won't be there, but it's become a habit from his many months in the Domain. In fact, he can almost convince himself he saw a flash of red. He rests his head against Rue's shoulder and sighs quietly. He's torn.  The need to wander hasn't subsided, but he misses the Domain as well. Sidon will still be there when he returns, he just has to soothe the itch under his skin first. Maybe he can go after Farosh and try and get what he needs to have Cotera upgrade his tunic. He'll feel better if he does something reckless. Rue bumps her head against him when she's had her fill and he pulls himself back up. The best they can manage in all this snow is a brisk trot, not that Link minds. His bruised ribs still and the bitter cold isn't helping. He can better keep still like this. In about a day they'll be at Dueling Peaks, some one will take care of Rue and he can try and sleep before continuing on to Hateno.

Link doesn't make camp when night falls, he doesn't want to sleep in the snow any longer than absolutely necessary. He loosely tethers Rue to a tree and remains settled on her back. He leans forward as much as he is able to share in her warmth and they stay like that. He imagines Rue is used to this given their time in Necluda, but he doubts she enjoys it anymore than he does. He doesn't really sleep, its more of a break than anything, and their on the road again before first light. After a quick breakfast of course. They reach Dueling Peaks by early afternoon and Rue seems relieved that her job is done. Link rents a normal bed and sleeps until evening. If he walks through the night he'll make it to Hateno by noon. When he wakes up, its pitch black out. The wind has picked up to a tortured scream and what was a mild snow storm is a white out. If Link were smarter he would have stayed at the stable, but he isn't someone who worries over self preservation. He puts his warm doublet on under his Rito armor and pulls up his Shieka mask. If he's idle for any longer surely he'll fall apart. At the protest of both the stable hands, Link sets off into the storm.

Every piece of him that is exposed to the storm freezes numb in moments. He has to use the map on his slate just to make sure he's following the right path. The weather is bad enough he doesn't have to worry about passers by or monsters, it's almost nice. Or it would have been if he could still feel is extremities. His breath is all that's keeping his face warm and it's hardly pleasant, but it's better than being still. When he gets to the fork in the road the snow lightens into a freezing rain which he likes more than the snow. He's still numb and painfully cold. He knows when his body has a chance to catch up with what he's put it through he'll get sick, but he's not worried about that now. He's a couple hours out of Hateno and if he can just make it that far, he'll be fine. He can check his mail, deal with what little responsibilities Zelda needs him to if there's any. Get some supplies and head for the warmth of the desert. The snow in Hateno has mostly become slush by the time Link crosses the village gates. The rain has shifted from freezing cold to just unpleasantly cool. Which is an improvement he'll take because it means he'll finally get feeling back in his fingers. When he gets to the bridge leading to the house he bought on impulse he stops in his tracks. The bridge has been reinforced with stone. It could hold Rue, more importantly it could hold Sidon without creaking under the pressure. Link grins beneath his mask and rushes across the bridge.

When he gets the heavy door open he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was by the pile of mail on his table. He knew it would be bad, but expecting two seasons worth of mail was one thing, seeing it was another. Part of him was tempted just to throw it in his fire place and use it to warm the long cold house, but he knew better. He sighs quietly, not in the mood to do that much reading after two nights of minimal sleep. So instead he heads up to the loft to change out of his armor to get some rest. He'll deal with the mail when he wakes up. It waited two seasons for him to get back, it can wait one more day. It's dark when he wakes up, and for a moment he can't tell if it's because it's night or if its because of the storm. His internal clock steadies itself, and he knows it's morning, just too early for there to be light. Something must have woken him, but for now all is quiet. He walks back down to what acts as both his living room and his kitchen and uses the pole-wick Zelda bought for him to light his chandelier. Apparently shooting off fire arrows in the house isn't safe, but he's never had any issues. His house is clearly still standing. He lights the fireplace next after coming to the realization it was the cold that woke him. He still had his summer blankets on the bed, and they were much too light for this kind of weather. He put a kettle over the fire to eventually make coffee and settled in to try and read through the mail that had piled up. It would give him a chance to see how things had been without him, and how much trouble he would be in if he went through with his plan to fully avoid Castle Town, and by extension, Zelda.

Link settles in the chair closest to the fireplace to warm up, and so throwing away any of the mail he didn't feel inclined to keep would be easier. Cup of warmer than advisable to drink coffee in one hand and as comfortable as his dining chair would allow, Link reached for the envelope on the top of the pile. The last think he expects to grab is an envelope with the Domain seal on it. His name is written on it in Sidon's elegant script and, Link isn't sure how he feels. Sidon would have had to send it days before Link even left the Domain for it to get here in time. He would have had to know Link planned on coming back to the house, but he didn't remember ever mentioning it. Whatever the case, Link finds his hand feels unsteady as he opens it.  What could have been so important, or so private that Sidon couldn't have told him before he left? With the envelope open, Link sets down his coffee so he can give the letter his full attention. He unfolds it carefully as he does with all of Sidon's letters, before he even reads it, he knows he is going to keep it. He always does. He doesn't want to risk forgetting Sidon the way he feels he's forgotten everyone else. If that ever happened, he feels like he would actually give up on everything. Heroism be damned.

My Dearest Link, My hope is that this letter finds you well rested and safe. I have noticed your eyes growing restless of the Domain, and I wish that you haven't lingered so long on my behalf. As much as I treasure the time I get to spend with you, I know you are not one to stay in place for long. You travel like a summer storm, never in one place more than a few days at a time, but you leave new life in your wake. As someone with a profound respect for nature, I do not have it in me to contain a storm, so go, see the world, and bring stories should your travels bring you back to me. My father says he is fine keeping the room for you while you are away, both to ease the strain on your coin purse, but in hopes that one day you may stay here. Even he has come to notice how relaxed you are in this place. We mean you no pressure of course, but I have seen you in that House. You keep yourself there because you believe it is expected of you. I would not be so forward as to ask you to leave that place if you are truly happy there, but if you aren't just think about this. May the Wilds treat you well, Your Dear Friend Prince Sidon of the Zora.

He laughs, the sound is rough and he's glad he lives alone. He's certainly not well rested, but he is safe; and he'll take one out of two, so long as Sidon never learns how dumb he was on his way back to his desolate empty house. So unlived in that the summer blankets are still on his bed. Calling him a summer storm is a particularly endearing way to address his restlessness, if it had come from anyone else Link would have rolled his eyes, but from Sidon it's fitting. He carefully sets Sidon's letter aside and moves on to the next one. This one has the Hyrule Crest on it, which means its from Zelda. He skims over it, it’s the usual fanfare, rebuilding is going well, she can still hear the goddess, Link hasn't replied to any of her previous letters so she is going to assume he is out traveling with no plans to visit Castle Town. She is correct in that regard, she closes it wishing him well as she always does, and to send her regards to Sidon since he was headed out this way. He tosses it into the fire, there's no use drafting a reply when it's sat on his table for three months and she clearly knows he hasn’t been home. The rest of his morning goes much the same way. Open, skim, add to the fire; and after a few hours he's through the pile and it's light enough for reasonable people to be outside. He can grab what he needs from the shops without anyone complaining that he woke them up at the crack of dawn, and then he can be on his way. There's no use lingering.

As it turned out there was some kind of unspoken rule about not showing up at shops the moment they open after you've been gone for half a year. They were glad to see him again, and didn’t seem too surprised when he told them he would be leaving again before the day was out. There was a less bitter feeling from it now. Link was a summer storm, and if Sidon wasn't going to try and contain it; then Link wasn't going to try to outrun it anymore. Maybe if he was lucky, the person he was meant to be would grow in the wake of the rain.

Malg, do you really think you can do all this alone?

TA: I... I don't know... I don't even know much about myself...

TA: I Don't even know what I was... I...

...

What... what... I...

I don't know...

TA: I don't know at all...

guys how do i deal with a identity crisis please help💔😭😭

this recently happened to one of my friends

"100 Masks"

A small doodly vent comic about my recent identity crisis

identity crisis at 3 AM

Hey,do you got the time Danny tried making duplicates only to turn into a mask of heads limbs eyes and basically horror on steroids?

Unfortunately, yes.

"Maybe I just lost myself through all of this...maybe Im dead..."

Hey guys! I apologize for the lack of Karma!Aingle content. I was going through an inspiration block and I was busy with school all the time, but worry not! I made a comic for you all! I will continue to post the Karma au comics, but I wont be doing them one against the other like I was before. I hope you understand.

The freakshow Au belongs to @hootbon whom the Karma au was inspired from

blind justice

I KEEP TRYING TO JUST VIBE WITH MY IDENTITY BUT I KEEP FEELING FUCKING WINGS

WHERE DID IT COME FROM???

WHY ARE THEIR WINGS? WHY? WHY DO I KNOW WHAT KIND OF WINGS? WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?

I see your 'Cody is Onyx Prime reincarnated' theory, and I raise you:

Cody being the only adopted child of the Burns family- a child that doesn't remember his past. His conscious can't recall anything- but his body never forgets.

The date is March 7th, 2008- the time is 9:43 PM EST. Just off the coast of Maine, soldiers glimpsed a meteor shooting overhead.

Alarmed, they run to investigate the sight, only to find a giant crater in the middle of the densely packed pine woods that decimated nearly nine yards of plant life. At the center is a giant block of ice glowing from inside, the silhouette of a boy no older than three or five years old slumbering inside.

The scientists at Griffin Rock's laboratory propose advanced cryogenic preservation as an answer to the ice's existence.

The ice itself takes weeks- even months- to fully melt. When Cody wakes up in Griffin Rock's laboratory, he's not yet Cody Burns- he's a child without a name, without memories- cold and hungry and scared, unable to stop silently crying in terror.

There's no tag, no form of identification on him. He can't speak- can't yet understand the words being said to him. For the first three years, he's raised in the laboratory, being taught basic math and English. Then the Burns Family comes along and adopts him.

Cody remembers the first day he came home. He remembered all the different outfits he tried on- all the different pasts he tried to imagine for himself. He'd pretend to be the prince of a bygone world, or an infant launched from a deserted and wartorn planet- but none of those personas seemed to stick.

He becomes utterly attached to the camera the first time his father shows it to him- his bedroom's bookshelves become filled with photo albums, each page packed with countless laminated photos. Other quirks begin to develop- like him wearing an archery glove wherever he went.

A nameless child, endlessly chasing the sea and the stars with aching limbs and a mind full of questions- then Cody Burns.

And before...?

Nothing- just feelings, colors, sensations. Tears that drop onto the back of his hand. Some days, when he looks into the mirror, he feels the sudden urge to drive his fist into the glass, shatter it and cry out to the world.

I don't recognize myself.

Static all around, everywhere- filling his ears, filling his lungs. Filling our lungs- my lungs.

Thoughts turn to mush, hands tremble without will.

Where does he end and I begin? Make it stop.

Please.

Make it stop...

Her Name

Beneath a blanket of laurel and viridian she lies, Tucked among the roots and ivy. The forest holds her in an embrace of thistles and thorns, Bones of ossified birch, knees sunk into dirt.

Her ghost likes to follow me around, A youthful skip in her gait. She is much more vibrant than I, Eyes azure and gleaming As she darts through the tree line and gleefully squeals "Last one there is a rotten egg."

It's not uncommon for people to see her in me, Or rather, her instead of me. Grown-ups often chuckle and sigh, sugar sweet smiles on their lips, And chitter amongst themselves about how oh-so precocious she is.

Will they ever see me?

She and I are one in the same, people tell me. We have the same smile, same hair, same face. She is all I have ever been and all I ever will be. Anything I think or say or do, no matter how original, She has done it first.

Her name is what people know me by.  It sticks to my skin like maple sap, Burrows itself deeper like a malignant little tick. While it once tasted like wildflowers and pine needles, Now, it is no more than a withered husk That tastes of ash on my tongue.

I do not hate her.

How can I?

She is pure and free and bright, A beam of sunlight born in the burning summer sky. My history is hers, and hers is mine, Identical spirals of cambium etched into the flesh of our arms. When I look into weathered polaroid photographs, Streaked yellow and pink from bygone years, I see her round, youthful face, Lips quirked upward and beaming at the camera.

Her smile is beautiful.

I hold her closely, I carry her on my back. Her arms are looped around my shoulders And her messy caramel curls fall over mine. She clings to me like a moth to a lamp, Sinks her ivory birch roots into my bones, Entwines herself with me. She is a part of me.

But I am not her.

I am alive and she is no more than a memory. Yet when the world speaks to me they call upon her name. When I do not answer, they do not understand why. When I drag them after me, through the woods and to her grave, And show them the brambles growing in her lungs And the sunflowers blooming in her throat, They tell me that she is merely sleeping. For how could a dead thing Bloom so bright?

So I hack off those beloved curls under the cover of the night And stain them the same color as the dawn. If I am ever to become more than the person who wears her face, I must bloom brighter than her corpse. If not an act of rebellion, then call it a desperate plea For someone to softly cup my cheek and, for once, see me.

I am not the little girl with the sunlit smile, But I once was, years ago. It is a fact that is as immutable as death, A law as eternal as life. And though I still carry her in my arms, I am older and wiser now And she will remain forever a child.

We are not the same person. Not anymore. And someday, I hope, the world will look upon us, See our fingers entwined like morning glory vines, And call upon not her,

But me.

A very disheveled and unamused Jack carrying a damaged Bruno.

I wanted to test out halftones and I really like how it came out! I'll deffo be doing more in the future.

she was so real for this

i want to move freely through the air and to pass through solid objects as one would swim through water. the only evidence of my existence should be the cold night mist that you could swear you were being watched by. my body was born wrong. i was meant to have horns, wings, more eyes, more limbs, no body at all, even… no, i don’t know what went wrong. i am sick. i cannot tell if i am desperate to be human again, (or maybe for the first time?), or if i am yearning to be the real, inhuman, me.

however wrong i may see myself, i hope i am right in your eyes.