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31_days2007-12-01 08:23 pm
sophiap.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-12-01 08:23 pm
[Dec. 1] [Princess Tutu] Kaleidoscope Boy
Title: Kaleidoscope boy
Day/Theme: 1. Piece by piece by piece
Series: Princess Tutu
Character/Pairing: Mytho
Rating: PG
Imagine a stained glass window shattered and scattered, its leading twisted into a bramble rather than a rose. Imagine that, and you have seen Mytho's heart.
Once you've imagined that, you know how Mytho sees the world: colorless, patternless, with dark lines slashing across a heavy sky like the gouges made by a raven's claws.
It's a comfortable enough place, despite its bleakness. It's always the same, always predictable, and there's something to be said for that.
But then it's all sent spinning, and nothing is the same from day to day.
The red glass shards are returned to his heart one by one in no particular order. Some are jagged enough to cut. Others are smooth enough to keep in your pocket and worry between your fingers.
The shards are blood red, cherry red, rose red. Some shards scatter the light. Others drink it in and refuse to let it go, betraying their red only in stray glints off lethally sharp edges.
When the princess returns each shard, it only seems to fall tidily into place, sliding neatly through his breastbone as if he is made of nothing but air and words. But when it enters, it sets all the other shards spinning into new, patternless patterns. With each new shard, the world is cast into a new shape. One day, he sees it by blood-light, the next, by rose-light. Desperate fear is chased by desperate love. Some days are as smooth as Rue's hand in his. Others cut him open as brutally as Fakir's words.
He wonders if the world will settle into place once the last piece is returned.
Day/Theme: 1. Piece by piece by piece
Series: Princess Tutu
Character/Pairing: Mytho
Rating: PG
Imagine a stained glass window shattered and scattered, its leading twisted into a bramble rather than a rose. Imagine that, and you have seen Mytho's heart.
Once you've imagined that, you know how Mytho sees the world: colorless, patternless, with dark lines slashing across a heavy sky like the gouges made by a raven's claws.
It's a comfortable enough place, despite its bleakness. It's always the same, always predictable, and there's something to be said for that.
But then it's all sent spinning, and nothing is the same from day to day.
The red glass shards are returned to his heart one by one in no particular order. Some are jagged enough to cut. Others are smooth enough to keep in your pocket and worry between your fingers.
The shards are blood red, cherry red, rose red. Some shards scatter the light. Others drink it in and refuse to let it go, betraying their red only in stray glints off lethally sharp edges.
When the princess returns each shard, it only seems to fall tidily into place, sliding neatly through his breastbone as if he is made of nothing but air and words. But when it enters, it sets all the other shards spinning into new, patternless patterns. With each new shard, the world is cast into a new shape. One day, he sees it by blood-light, the next, by rose-light. Desperate fear is chased by desperate love. Some days are as smooth as Rue's hand in his. Others cut him open as brutally as Fakir's words.
He wonders if the world will settle into place once the last piece is returned.