a. z. fell
She/Her
30
December 21st
Fortree, Hoenn
Bisexual
Surviving
Civillian
i'm just a demon who goes along with hell as far as she can.
experience tranquility [c]
POSTED ON Jun 9, 2024 16:46:19 GMT
[attr="class","samcam"] Kanaya notes Freya’s comment with an almost imperceptible incline of her head, stroking along strands of blonde hair matted down with electrophoresis gel. A few moments of sinking more and off they go. The computer screens light up with a variety of images: brain activity in swirls and coils of lines and light; faint, flashing pulses as they await entry into the frontal lobe, where the memories live. A brief sidetrack down the medulla where the math for her heartbeat ticks away. Every now and then Kanaya moves her hands a centimeter, a millimeter, driving this speeding bus, this plane burning hallucinogenics and nitrogen. Then, bam! First person POV of stuff and things. Here is breakfast this morning, sniffing the milk to check if it’s spoiled-- such banality is only bright because it’s fresh, recent-- here is bedtime last night, taking her meds-- oft repeated and habitual things wear a deep tread in the mind-- here is the muddled red pain, pain, pain of her cutting her leg off-- take a big, sweeping curve around that one-- and diving and diving and diving and back and back and back. Snippets of songs and flashes of movie scenes shift seamlessly between clear memories, the only sign of something that once was is there no longer. Do you know what real strength is? And then, darkness. A void. No light. Any normal captain would get lost here, in the immense emptiness, but Kanaya knows it, it is familiar, and she pilots fearlessly deeper and deeper past the brink. The screens get crunchy, fuzzy like static. Flowers in an arena, graduation gown swishing between her knees; a selfie in a sparkling jumper in a nicotine-streaked mirror. “Too far,” she slurs, fingers twitching. “But, while we’re here…” The map of her brain twists and shifts. The Duskull floats forward, now, and, blinking, disables the now-shared memories. Bright spots go dark. Kanaya closes her eyes. A faint, pink glow emanates from the head in her hands, as she is forming a hook, to reach in and snicker-snack! Adrift, now, the memories are no longer. They dissipate, leaving blackness in their wake. [newclass=.samcam] [/newclass][newclass=.samcam b] color: #d49736; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.samcam i] color: #d49736; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.samcam u] text-decoration: none;border-bottom: dashed 1px #d49736; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.samcam a] text-transform:uppercase!important;font:800 15px Poppins!important; [/newclass]
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