Antigone (tendermercy) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2012-02-10 05:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-08-31, rina |
this is the collapse
Who: Antigone & Rina
Where: St Francis of Assisi's
When: Around lunch
Antigone rested her forehead against the glass of the store window. From here she could see the news playing again. They had been repeating it since the bridge had fallen – It didn’t just fall. – only the volume had been turned up a minute ago. Why they should need to do that, she did not know; it could be heard from partway down the road beforehand. The coolness of the glass was not helping her headache as she would have wished. It only made the cold seem to gather within the rest of her. A silly notion when it was such a lovely day outside. No – the weather was lovely, the day was not. Not one had been since and she could not see how anything was to improve. Today was simply a continuation of the numbing silence after terribly bad news has been broken; as was yesterday, as tomorrow would be. All around the world this had happened. She had fought demons that had very likely come close to destroying her and she had never felt such a knot twist in her gut. Pressing her palms against the glass, Antigone closed her eyes. She needed so much to simply rest, but would not let herself to do so much as sit down. How could she? People had helped, yes, as had she, but it did not cancel out the pain of the horror of the act itself. That man would turn against man, supernatural or not, and do something so horrific was beyond her understanding. Oh, she knew of war. She had simply never experienced it herself, fights with those deemed evil aside. Chariton had always said she was a sheltered child. But this—this was why their mother had never wanted her to leave Celestia. There was so much hate here. There was so much resentment. She honestly could not bear it.
Someone pushed past along the sidewalk with a muttered apology. Antigone opened her eyes again to find herself focussed upon the floor. She could not recall lowering her face at all, but, clearly, she had. Looking up only showed the same reel of news playing once again – with no updates – and she turned away from the window to lean her back against it. If she could stop seeing what had happened perhaps she would stop feeling it. All the kindness and joy ripped away from something peaceful, leaving nothing gentle or merciful in its path save perhaps a certain number of the survivors. People willing to put aside their own injuries and missing loved ones to help those around them; one of the few details Antigone clung onto. Otherwise nothing but the exact opposite of her virtue stared back at her – and it broke her heart. We are back far, far too late. She did not truly wish to think it, let alone believe it, but perhaps it was so.
Brow furrowed, she wrapped her arms around her midriff and dodged about the two gentlemen who were otherwise going to run into her. They would not have apologised; this she knew without reaching into their minds and did not wish to judge them at all for something so trivial if it could be avoided entirely. She just—she just needed—I need sanctuary. And at a jog, a run by most mortal standards, she was outside the church and staring up at the architecture. It would be so easy to go home from here, would it not? With her feet on hallowed ground; always considered to be safe for all intents and purposes, but that was when the threat came from demons. Even if the mortals that caused Antigone’s heart to ache and her stomach to churn were of a demonic bloodline, they would be more comfortable setting foot in a church than a demon. Else they are entirely normal with nothing special about them and there is no safety here at all. A church roof would not stop a bomb. Jaw setting in a hard line, she ignored the hot tears that already stained her face and stepped inside. One deep breath and then another, and the scent of stale incense and burning candles had focussed her at least a little. Brought her back to a place where she could only think how she ought not have come here.
Crossing the room to light a votive, she prayed that maybe someone would hear it. The world bridled against Gentleness and Mercy and she was utterly lost as to where to start.