Thatch (
thatched) wrote in
witchesreign2013-10-21 12:53 am
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[bbs]
Time is the most powerful force in existence.
If we let it run its course it's regimented, second by second, minute by minute, especially here in the Garden. You are told when to get up, when to eat, when to learn, when to fight and even when to goof off. Time effects everyone, whether it wears them down to bones and dust or if they stand outside it and watch those they care about get worn down; powerless to save them or start the clock for themselves.
My old man was one of the strongest in our world. He had 1600 loyal men and allies who would fight for him. He could cause tsunamis that could wipe out entire villages with one fist. We all who served him and would give our lives for him thought it would last forever. But time caught up with him. Even before the great war which he gave himself to, time was pecking away at him, running out and soon he will be nothing but bones and dust.
It's no wonder that people want to learn how to use time. Manipulate the threads between their fingers. What could be the harm in pulling here, yanking there, stopping time completely or even changing the past. If a great man could have lived one more day then damn the consequences. If you are happy then what else matters? One person's gain is another's loss, but what does it matter if you are that person or they are your people?
I want to stop time. To live in this half-world with people I love forever.
But then I remember, one of the greatest men in our world, even greater in some ways then my old man. His time did not just run out, he chose when it did. The exact hour. The exact way. And though he has been gone some twenty years, his name lives on. There is not one person in my world who doesn't know it. Very few who aren't touched by his legacy good and bad. And it was this legacy that he left that gave me one of my closest friends.
Through him, I remember that even when my old man is bones and dust, his legacy will carry on through the will of the people that remember him. It is the same for the people who die here. Who disappear into compression, or their own clocks run down.
One day that might just be me. But I won't stand here, wasting the moments I have on mourning what has yet to happen. Maybe I will run with time, maybe I will stand outside of it--but I just want to say:
Almost six years ago, on October 30th this world's time, I died.
This world gave me a second chance.
And I am ready to take it.
If we let it run its course it's regimented, second by second, minute by minute, especially here in the Garden. You are told when to get up, when to eat, when to learn, when to fight and even when to goof off. Time effects everyone, whether it wears them down to bones and dust or if they stand outside it and watch those they care about get worn down; powerless to save them or start the clock for themselves.
My old man was one of the strongest in our world. He had 1600 loyal men and allies who would fight for him. He could cause tsunamis that could wipe out entire villages with one fist. We all who served him and would give our lives for him thought it would last forever. But time caught up with him. Even before the great war which he gave himself to, time was pecking away at him, running out and soon he will be nothing but bones and dust.
It's no wonder that people want to learn how to use time. Manipulate the threads between their fingers. What could be the harm in pulling here, yanking there, stopping time completely or even changing the past. If a great man could have lived one more day then damn the consequences. If you are happy then what else matters? One person's gain is another's loss, but what does it matter if you are that person or they are your people?
I want to stop time. To live in this half-world with people I love forever.
But then I remember, one of the greatest men in our world, even greater in some ways then my old man. His time did not just run out, he chose when it did. The exact hour. The exact way. And though he has been gone some twenty years, his name lives on. There is not one person in my world who doesn't know it. Very few who aren't touched by his legacy good and bad. And it was this legacy that he left that gave me one of my closest friends.
Through him, I remember that even when my old man is bones and dust, his legacy will carry on through the will of the people that remember him. It is the same for the people who die here. Who disappear into compression, or their own clocks run down.
One day that might just be me. But I won't stand here, wasting the moments I have on mourning what has yet to happen. Maybe I will run with time, maybe I will stand outside of it--but I just want to say:
Almost six years ago, on October 30th this world's time, I died.
This world gave me a second chance.
And I am ready to take it.
no subject
I think it fortunate that you know such a date.
no subject
Aye, you think so? I'm still not sure I wouldn't be better off if I didn't know my own oblivion. [and how it happened. Every last detail was still ingrained in his mind and sometimes at night, he could still feel the wood of the starwashed deck under his cheek]
A lot of this is headcanon >.>
[Grell nods, reaching up and brushing fingers along his jawline.] Most of my kind have their minds wiped of their lives before they move on or before they become reapers. They are stored, and for those who become reapers, they will eventually be destroyed. [She smiles wryly] Imagine, not knowing why you act a certain way, dislike or obsess over certain things, why your hair is red...
[Sighing, Grell gazes up at the sky.]
It can be...frustrating. [She looks back to Thatch.] I'd rather know who I am than mill about ignorant while the [air quotes] "powers that be" [/air quotes] know everything about me.