Story Analysis: Muspell's Passing

His passing was never meant to be a part of the story of Welcome to Insanity, though he is a vital character long after the Ophidian head departed, over the stars.

It's never intentionally brought up in the Main story due to the melancholy it brings and the weight it still bears on Null-0.

The issue has never been with Muspell's discomfort of his passing, for he has none, having long ago come to terms with the inevitability of circumstance.

Though it would be by both circumstances and by design rather than or.

The end note here is that he knew long ago that the Heart's Song would come to pass, and was ready to face what was to come. Yet he buries himself in the annals of history, that nothing would remind Null-0 of his presence, for it is Null, not Muspell, who remains chained to grief.

Knowing his, it's out of consideration that he shies from the topic as he doesn't wish to upset the Numan he holds so dear.

Scribbles: Star Maker

Rain has always been fascinated by the twinkling of their distant glow, and oft dreamt of having dominion over the stars. To be able to create the small ethereal motes that have for so long, been a beacon of wonder and hope for mankind.

While none can claim such mastery, one can always dream, and a dreamer she is.

The rough sketch.

Star Maker: Rain Falle

May have over done it with the glowing motes, but in true night's sky the stars are nigh endless. I'll have to find a less lazy and tacky way of painting stars. Guess I'll be going through more test runs.

Snippets and Stories: (R) Brutal

"Why do you always break everything you touch?"

I was always too rough.

They glow a soft pastel green glow,  shards scattered on the floor and faintly twinkling motes drifting up from the remnants.

It was fading at an alarming pace.

No, no, no--

I scrabble at it, trying to put it back together, but my hands are shaking.

A dark slipper enters my vision and when I raise my head I see him towering over me.

His grin is vicious, and he preens at the utter look of devastation. It was his victory.

"Blame others all you want, it was your hand by which spelled it's undoing."

The sharp burn as my fists clench around the glass do little to dispel the anguish.

"Oh dry your tears. They change nothing."

"I know that."

I hold the shards close. Holding it to my chest and pull my legs up.

What else was there to do? I couldn't fix this.

"Just throw it away."

In response I clutch them tighter, and he sneers.

"If you truly treasured this bond of so-called friendship then you shouldn't have broken it. Such a brute."

"I know."

He lost his patience with me and left me in true silence, to my relief.

As I gather myself, I watch, sparkling little wisps that drift up from the shattered orb.

They glow different colors, and I smile at each memory they bring.

A faint green twinkle lands in an outstretched hand, and suddenly--

He's holding the same hand as he guides my movements, instructing me in the craft and pointing out the various little tricks.

No one had ever had the patience to deal with my aversion to crafting.

Another one, purple with an occasional tint of sharp chartreuse, shows the Time we fought against a false god, placed upon her scales of judgment.

While my experience far exceeds his, he learns fast, and is soon far better than I could ever hope to be. It is the difference of talent, and my Heart swells with admiration, and disappointment both.

Admiration for his skill at arms, disappointment in mine. I wanted to be better than I was. I am better than this. 

Why wasn't I better than this.

Everything I did seemed to prove I couldn't

If I don't get better I wont catch up to him. They're all so good at what they do.

If I don't keep up... I'll be left behind. 

He's going to leave me behind.

I'm going to be alone.

Again.

The memory fades though I make a grab for it, and in doing so strike a dark red mote behind it.

We're yelling at one another.

I was always picking fights, always getting into trouble, if not making it.

He tells me he's through, he's done dealing with me. With all the drama. 

The mote is a dark, poignant. A lonely blue as it fizzles out.

I can't stand it and reach for another green one.

"--est bard NA."

"... You know I'm not. I'm not going to score the highest parse, and all anyone cared about are numbers. Look at the God Emperor." The last part was spat out in bitter resentment.

Numbers were all anyone respected. They were no different.

He was no different.

But he pulls me aside and I look up at him.

"I said--'to me'." He winks and I am quick to avert my gaze. Though my tongue remains silent, the smile speaks much.

It pulses with a warm pink and orange hue as it disappears.

The whispers of past memories surround me.

I couldn't throw them away.

It didn't make me happy, but they were precious memories.

"Then you shouldn't have broke it."

His words ring in my ears.

I wish he'd have believed me. I wish I was more amiable. That I could ignore what bothered me, or just agreed with everything the God Emperor dictated.

I wish he was still my friend.

Snippets and Stories: (WtI) For Science

Silas stared at the... Thing.

Beady black eyes stared up at him and the abomination growled, a fat tongue lolling out of a large jaw that seemed to be grinning up at him.

"Why."

It wasn't a question, but a demand for some explanation for the utterly ridiculous scene in front of him.

Snippets and Stories: (R) Parental Love

There is nothing more tragic, than when a parent outlives their child.

BOP 7: All That We Hope to Be

There is so much to say, and so little Time with which to say it.

It's difficult to put it down, these troublesome thoughts.

The futility of it, the despair that lingers.

When the instrument lays in hand, yet nothing comes to.

Snippets and Stories: (R) Red Mist

It's a strange city that I wander through. Yellow lamps glow ominously in the murky darkness, and the tall buildings stand hauntingly across long empty asphalt streets.

And then it comes.

Snippets and Stories: (R) Life in Cardboard Boxes

"... And..." The word stretched on my tongue as I propped the brown box on its side, crawling in, "... There we go."

Neskyii looked it up and down, plainly unimpressed, "What does this... mundanity accomplish?"

A low laugh left me as I sat further back into it, "Nothing, of course. There doesn't need to be a reason for everything."