[attr="class","angelow"]
Guided by vanes of ruby and sapphire, Angelo does not consider for even the slimmest of moments to steal a peek back over his shoulder. [break][break]
The pilot is far too engrossed in the moment, where familiar feathers accompany him on his travels over land, sea and sky. Adventures that see him parting clouds in the troposphere, letting snowflakes gather on his welcoming palm and leaving footprints on highest peaks when he passes through. [break][break]
Occasionally stopping to let the tide pull playfully at his ankles, summoning him back to familiar depths. To a beloved embrace and captivating silver that always snags on his heart when it’s time to part, no matter how temporary… [break][break]
A wayfarer caught up in the desire of his simple, insatiable wanderlust. [break][break]
Until the journey takes a wrong turn…[break][break]
Like a thick cloud obscuring a cockpit window, fog blots out every blade of grass and rippling of water. Mist blocking the sun so suddenly that Angelo wonders if it were brought in on phantasmal, wild winter winds. [break][break]
And yet the air is
still – eerily so. [break][break]
Only an image of the dreamed-up Sotally Tober remains, floating innocently in the distance bathed in a lighthouse beacon glow. His waypoint. [break][break]
I should get home… Angelo thinks, his feet already leading him towards the warmth he knows he’d find there, seeking to combat an unsettled chill that starts to seep into his bones. Something is wrong, he can feel it.[break][break]
But there is nothing reassuring to be found here. Not when outstretched fingertips meet nothing but an invisible force. A wall, solid and smooth, blocking his path. It’s glass-like chill sinking down his arm and striking his lungs so fierce breath escapes strained. [break][break]
The fuck is this…? [break][break]
With each step Angelo takes around the circumference of the prison, his heartbeat thumps in time. Each growing more frantic the longer he paces and searches for escape with no success, looping around and around and around.[break][break]
Only it’s not just the enclosed space that has panic seizing his lungs in its chilly vice grip –[break][break]
It’s the loneliness of no other soul beside him. His hand absent of the reassuring sensation that a particular set of smaller, calloused fingers bring. The comforting feel of a dewy sphere, usually tucked in his pocket, now nowhere to be found. Stuck where no sweet, psychic link could reach him. [break][break]
Sky…? Can you hear me? [break][break]
Latias… Latios? Where did you go?[break][break]
You didn't…
[break][break]
From the desperation of hearing
their screams just beyond the layer of glass and yet they cannot seem to hear him, not when he shouts nor tries to break down the world to reach them. [break][break]
Angelo! Help! I need you! It hurts…
[break][break]
And it’s the ache of bones crunching, snapping beneath his boots. The weight of sand, pooling on an outstretched palm as it trickles down from dark skies…[break][break]
– that makes Angelo’s breath painfully sparse. [break][break]
Short, desperate gasps shudder through a frozen body that stands seized in the centre of the nightmare. Pinned down by suffocating sands, scratching its mark across skin and descending a windpipe, that only knows how to take from him. [break][break]
Breath. Lives. Hope. Freedom. Time.
[break][break]
You didn't… wait for me. No voice escapes. [break][break]
And nobody comes.
[attr="class","angelonotes"]
notes.
n/a.[attr="class","angelopokes"]