lunar_moth
✧・゚:* ♡♡♡ *:・゚✧
For the umpteenth time does the very ground shake with the force of another, positively massive explosion. Endymion would later swear he could feel his bones reverberate from the force. In the moment however his legs are once more swept from underneath him, and he falls like a body from a balcony. One hand stays wrapped around Lyli’s body and the other comes up to cradle her head from the impact. His own temple comes crashing right into the icy ground. It makes his head swim, and he has to pull away from Lyli for a moment so he can roll over and empty his stomach of its bile. Endy manages one thumbs up to let Zack know he’s listening and hopes, if nothing else, that this will be over soon. He is really not of the hero’s constitution.
The nausea does recede, although he still feels bubble-wrapped by the time he staggers back to his feet. He does his best to prop Lyli up in a semi-upright position against his legs; this way, he can’t drop her again.
Zack, however.
“Drop him, you hag!” Endymion spits, practically sparking. “Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing!”
She’s right, about some things, but he has no idea who this rotten bitch is and he won’t give her the satisfaction of hearing so. Zack is undeniably young. Honestly, Endymion had half suspected him a high schooler. Someone so young, so full of light and a willingness to reach out to anyone in the darkest of situations had no place in a mess like this one, where death and a good ass beating stood ‘round every doorframe. Though perhaps that was the paradox, wasn’t it? Maybe in order to survive this kind of life you simply had to burn brighter than the flames around you.
Endymion stands on a precipice. To be honest, he has jack shit going for him. No life, no love, and nothing to live for. He’s been a hair trigger from a hikkikomori for years. Hell, he’d probably have offed himself already if he weren’t soul-bound to a damn toad. Maybe his existing didn’t make the world any better, but he drew the line at inflicting harm on innocents, and that included his crybaby familiar. This is where his dilemma lies.
His whole life he’s felt as if he were something alien. Like he didn’t walk the same wavelength as everyone else, and they all could tell and laughed about it when he wasn’t around. Endymion had grown to accept this. He’d planned to scrape by day after day in his little apartment, wandering along and finding things mildly interesting until he died of a heart attack or something. He was okay with that. He felt safe that way.
So why, now, does this world-ruining, safety-shattering, yawning abyss call to him so? It scares the shit out of him to get any closer. He could tip over the edge at any moment. Lose anything he’s ever known.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’ve got nothing left to lose. Not really.
And maybe, just maybe, there’s something to gain:
Maybe you could save someone else, the way you couldn’t save yourself, and the way nobody wanted to save you.
The force of his yell seemingly tears at his throat on the way out, until he realizes that sparks shoot past his lips too. He feels like he’s burning up. To anyone onlooking, he glows at the seams; his eyes, his chest, they burn up with him and blast a ray of glassy-glittering photons at the woman keeping Zack held aloft. Lyli’s head is let to fall and hair shields her face from the light. Flash blindness takes over.
Endymion steps forward and falls over the edge.
The nausea does recede, although he still feels bubble-wrapped by the time he staggers back to his feet. He does his best to prop Lyli up in a semi-upright position against his legs; this way, he can’t drop her again.
Zack, however.
“Drop him, you hag!” Endymion spits, practically sparking. “Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing!”
She’s right, about some things, but he has no idea who this rotten bitch is and he won’t give her the satisfaction of hearing so. Zack is undeniably young. Honestly, Endymion had half suspected him a high schooler. Someone so young, so full of light and a willingness to reach out to anyone in the darkest of situations had no place in a mess like this one, where death and a good ass beating stood ‘round every doorframe. Though perhaps that was the paradox, wasn’t it? Maybe in order to survive this kind of life you simply had to burn brighter than the flames around you.
Endymion stands on a precipice. To be honest, he has jack shit going for him. No life, no love, and nothing to live for. He’s been a hair trigger from a hikkikomori for years. Hell, he’d probably have offed himself already if he weren’t soul-bound to a damn toad. Maybe his existing didn’t make the world any better, but he drew the line at inflicting harm on innocents, and that included his crybaby familiar. This is where his dilemma lies.
His whole life he’s felt as if he were something alien. Like he didn’t walk the same wavelength as everyone else, and they all could tell and laughed about it when he wasn’t around. Endymion had grown to accept this. He’d planned to scrape by day after day in his little apartment, wandering along and finding things mildly interesting until he died of a heart attack or something. He was okay with that. He felt safe that way.
So why, now, does this world-ruining, safety-shattering, yawning abyss call to him so? It scares the shit out of him to get any closer. He could tip over the edge at any moment. Lose anything he’s ever known.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’ve got nothing left to lose. Not really.
And maybe, just maybe, there’s something to gain:
Maybe you could save someone else, the way you couldn’t save yourself, and the way nobody wanted to save you.
The force of his yell seemingly tears at his throat on the way out, until he realizes that sparks shoot past his lips too. He feels like he’s burning up. To anyone onlooking, he glows at the seams; his eyes, his chest, they burn up with him and blast a ray of glassy-glittering photons at the woman keeping Zack held aloft. Lyli’s head is let to fall and hair shields her face from the light. Flash blindness takes over.
Endymion steps forward and falls over the edge.