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writetomyheart2015-10-16 08:52 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2015-10-16 08:52 pm
[team sonic] かごめかごめ
First words from Countdown.
Title from 籠目籠目, a Japanese children's game.
Time. It's such a transient thing. Rivers come from tiny streams, their origin hidden in the mountains, build and grow, stealing seconds, devouring minutes, until the raging torrent meets the sea.
Yibo's fingers curl around Seungyoun's hand. His face isn't scared exactly, just. . .waiting.
They all are.
Yixuan looks at the centre, between them; there's something pulsing, red and deep and fleshy, light catching the moist surface, veins like roots glistening in the air.
"What is it?" Seungyoun asks, but Wenhan shakes his head. He doesn't know.
None of them do.
Sungjoo's eyes dart over the bars that form the cage in which they sit, in a circle, holding hands, knees barely brushing. Outside the bars there's nothing.
There's everything.
A voice sings, in the distance, right in their ears, Seungyoun winces, his fingers digging into Sungjoo's hand, leaving bruises.
"The bird in the cage," the voice whispers, in a sing song voice, tickling the hairs on Seungyoun's neck as he closes his eyes.
"When, oh when will it come out," the voice continues, words slipping over Wenhan's skin, crawling down his throat, where they fester to darkness in his stomach.
"In the night of dawn," the voice sings, breathing dark into Yixuan's ears, as a chill spreads over his shoulders, slips down his spine and he shivers.
"The crane and turtle slipped," the voice says, and it's almost laughing, Yibo glances around wildly, but there's no one there. The thing in the centre throbs, pulsing red in a rhythmic beat that skips, stuttering to a halt, before it begins again. There's nothing outside the bars of the cage, but they're closing in all the same.
"Who is behind you now?" the voice whispers, shouts, and Sungjoo's shoulder curl in, a brief moment of absolute silence, as everything hangs in suspension—
before a gust of something drags Sungjoo out between the bars of the cage, even though he clings to Yibo and Seungyoung's fingers, drawing blood, it's not enough,
"the slip," the air hums around them, and the remaining four wait, again, for the words.
just if you're interested![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drainbamage954
Title from 籠目籠目, a Japanese children's game.
Time. It's such a transient thing. Rivers come from tiny streams, their origin hidden in the mountains, build and grow, stealing seconds, devouring minutes, until the raging torrent meets the sea.
Yibo's fingers curl around Seungyoun's hand. His face isn't scared exactly, just. . .waiting.
They all are.
Yixuan looks at the centre, between them; there's something pulsing, red and deep and fleshy, light catching the moist surface, veins like roots glistening in the air.
"What is it?" Seungyoun asks, but Wenhan shakes his head. He doesn't know.
None of them do.
Sungjoo's eyes dart over the bars that form the cage in which they sit, in a circle, holding hands, knees barely brushing. Outside the bars there's nothing.
There's everything.
A voice sings, in the distance, right in their ears, Seungyoun winces, his fingers digging into Sungjoo's hand, leaving bruises.
"The bird in the cage," the voice whispers, in a sing song voice, tickling the hairs on Seungyoun's neck as he closes his eyes.
"When, oh when will it come out," the voice continues, words slipping over Wenhan's skin, crawling down his throat, where they fester to darkness in his stomach.
"In the night of dawn," the voice sings, breathing dark into Yixuan's ears, as a chill spreads over his shoulders, slips down his spine and he shivers.
"The crane and turtle slipped," the voice says, and it's almost laughing, Yibo glances around wildly, but there's no one there. The thing in the centre throbs, pulsing red in a rhythmic beat that skips, stuttering to a halt, before it begins again. There's nothing outside the bars of the cage, but they're closing in all the same.
"Who is behind you now?" the voice whispers, shouts, and Sungjoo's shoulder curl in, a brief moment of absolute silence, as everything hangs in suspension—
before a gust of something drags Sungjoo out between the bars of the cage, even though he clings to Yibo and Seungyoung's fingers, drawing blood, it's not enough,
"the slip," the air hums around them, and the remaining four wait, again, for the words.
just if you're interested
drainbamage954