αвrαhαm (abjectissime) wrote in cirque_rp, @ 2018-01-01 16:57:00 |
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Often, Abraham broke free of the Hall of Mirrors whenever it wasn’t required of him to haunt its corridors. It was an odd sort of employment and he didn’t like how idle it made him feel, but there wasn’t very much he could do consistently other than be a melancholy figure looming in other people’s reflections. Abraham wasn’t particularly fond of terrifying people either, though occasionally their over-exaggerated and extreme reactions to his appearances were amusing. Outside in the slowly setting sun, Abraham wished that he could feel it. He could imagine that he could, he still remembered the sensation of that warmth on his skin, but it wasn’t quite the same. Abraham missed too many things from his previous life and much of his time was spent in moments like this, in remembering and re-remembering those many things as they resurfaced. It was easy to become lost in that dire sense of loss and Abraham turned his attention to the stalls lining the Midway instead, observing the passersby from his detached plane of existence. The pathway was busy enough for this time of day, but not enough that he couldn’t easily move out of the way of the unknowing public. Occasionally, a wide gesture clipped through him and the person would jump and glance around but he was invisible to their eyes and he watched as they quickly moved away from him, whispering quietly to their companions about what they felt. That too was something Abraham lamented about this existence, but he carried on. There was little else to do. Further on down the Midway, the atmosphere brightened up as if it things here were waking up from a long slumber to greet the day. People were laughing and pulling each other to the stands lined up along the sides. The barkers called out and patrons were drawn in, and the Cirque moved as if it were a living, breathing thing. There were times when Abraham felt that notion wasn’t entirely wrong, but even after being here over a quarter century, he could not profess to know that much more about this place than he had when he first signed. As Abraham continued to wander aimlessly down through the winding walkway, a whistled tune caught his attention. His afterlife and his time at the Cirque had taught him that this world was more magical and dangerous than he had ever realized, filled with things that he had always believed only lurked in the pages of old novels. Something knowing a song that was popular in the thirties wasn’t so unusual, but it was the song, their song that made him pause. Standing there, listening, Abraham could almost see their old kitchen, the well-used furniture that he had gotten from an old friend of the family placed in a layout he had long since memorized and that he expertly avoided as he was led in a dance around the room to that very song. Soon, he found himself drifting towards its source and when he saw it, he froze. If he had a heart that beat, it would have stopped dead in his chest. That color he hadn’t seen in a long time and as he closed more of the distance, every detail he had long since committed to memory were there right in front of his eyes. The frantic energy buzzing through him left him feeling scattered and unable to focus enough to manifest completely, he managed to do so just enough to sing aloud the next line of the song loud and clear, “I'm in Heaven and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” His voice broke just slightly as he continued. “And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.” |