FANTASY [P] Nov 21, 2014 22:44:49 GMT -5
Post by Lyric Shikov on Nov 21, 2014 22:44:49 GMT -5
The brisk chill of the wind seemed reminiscent of Russia, at the beginning of autumn, when the leaves clung feebly to the branches but still retained their color of green. It held the threat of winter, a coldness that seeped into the very essence of the shapeshifter who walked upon the barren streets. His sole source of warmth was the hand of his beloved; his eyes fixed on her repetitively, even as she stared child-like at the surrounding ruins.
He saw their surroundings only with a cynic's eye. He knew what a city was meant to look like and the old buildings surrounding Studio Ess did not resemble a city whatsoever. They were covered in graffiti, windows shattered and rooms ransacked of any and all resources. Some billboards held stubbornly onto their old images, advertisements of merchandise that had long since lost its pull upon Lyric.
He could not help but smile at Aurora's enthusiasm. She saw now things that she might not have ever seen before, although the entire hand-in-hand scene reminded him rather eerily of an event that had occurred with Leena years ago. It had been during the same season, although the Russian air had been much colder and the street had been populated with urban noises. Leena had held Lyric's hand, humoring him, feigning that they were a couple. Lyric had gone along, dog-eyed, and thinking back upon the memory he was disgusted with himself and his eagerness to follow her.
"It's a beautiful neighborhood," he had told Leena, looking at the painted streets, alight with a different walk of life than he was accustomed. They had not been in the aristocratic upper-class neighborhoods but, instead, the ghetto of Moscow.
"Oh, Zivon," she had laughed. "You are too optimistic."
In retrospect, the words were hilariously untrue. It was Aurora now who bore the optimism and Lyric the cynicism. They progressed slowly, as he had still been regaining his strength, and the pale autumn sun felt warm upon his cheeks despite the wind. He looked at her, pausing to regain his breath. "Have you never seen things like this?" He asked, softly. His eyes settled upon hers with a calm warmness, although they continued to convey the sorrow he tried so hard to contain. He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips affectionately across her knuckles.
This was the farthest they had gone from the studio thus far. It was where the other buildings began in earnest, overgrown and unattended, left to contain the resonance of the wind through open doors and broken windows. The entire trip had been provoked because they had had a conversation about what curiosities Aurora still had. It was not much, but it was the most that Lyric could do.
He took a moment to draw her nearer. As he did so, he fantasized about if they were outside of this godforsaken hell, if they were merely human. He knew, of course, that they would never have met realistically. But that tiny detail was forsaken in favor for humoring his fantasy. He fancied the idea that they would be just like this, hand-in-hand, only free.