Allegra Lenkeit // Elpis (h8texpectations) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-07-05 01:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | elpis, eris |
How are you so burnt when // You're barely on fire
Who: Elpis and OPEN
What: Hope, guilt, and pyrotechnics!
Where: Hudson River
When: July 4th (evening)
In the happy, chattering flock pressed by the Hudson, one figure huddled quietly, knees pulled tight to her chest: a compact, towheaded bundle of woe…and glowstick jewelry. Despite the rapidly swelling number of people, there was a definite circle of space around the child. Nobody looked at her, nobody wondered at the pajama sleeves peeking out from a slightly oversized leather bomber or the violets braided into shoelaces.
Resolutely alone in the crowd, Elpis tightened her hold on herself and wished she knew what to do.
She hadn’t meant to hurt the boy, hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. But the smoke was unnerving, and Allegra’s pain was so blindingly real, and the fear was a fever dousing her head, and oh she hadn’t meant it, she hadn’t. it wasn’t in her nature to hurt. Not intentionally.
Guilt turned her guts to lead, ugly and sick. Talking with Allegra would’ve helped, even if it was only more of Legra growling, but the attack had exhausted the mortal’s resources; her “host” was sleeping deep within Elpis’ consciousness, the faults and aches of her body slowly mending. It’d be a while still before she'd wake, strong and whole…until the next time.
It was a terrible thing to expect, the "next time".
Suddenly, the sea of bodies shifted forward. Nearby a pudding-faced child pointed excitedly. Puzzled, Elpis looked up, and--
The stars were exploding.
Red, blue, green, orange, pink, a hot volley of colors was shattering into radiant showers against the dark. Elpis blinked in wonder, the glory above pulling her out of her boggy stupor. She seemed to hear the laughter and cheers for the first time. What’s more she could feel it: jubilation. Excitement. Joy.
She remembered being explained the importance of this holiday by Allegra and by others, long ago and lone gone, but almost nobody here was thinking about history. Children and men, the young and the wise, natives or tourists, no matter how different, each soul bravely stared at the fire above them--and hoped. Though they hardly seemed aware of doing it, of feeling it, the minds and hearts around her were lit with the unmistakable blush of faith, the sweet grace of expectation.
Belief without purpose, without forethought, without fear. Faith in nothing except the glee of the moment. Inimitable mortal bliss.
They made it look so easy.
As the fireworks overhead grew brighter, Hope shut her eyes and wished gods had something to pray to.