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reunion time
Jan. 23rd, 2020 01:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ducat ( four years.
time changes a person. most obviously, change comes physically in the form of scars, longer hair and rough hands. less obvious are the subtle nuances — habits, lessons learned, quirks and little vocal ticks. for nezumi, he wouldn’t really be able to track the latter. why would he even bother? anyone that knew him when he was a kid, a reckless teenager, a lost and bitter child, is out of the picture.
it’s been four years and nezumi doesn’t have much to his name nowadays. the grand idea of visiting other cities and areas unknown had lost its allure after the first year. after the second, he had gone about reconnecting and checking in, so to speak, with all the wrongs and mishaps of his youth. by the third, he was truly homesick and only then, bitterly, realized he had no home to return to. he never did.
but the smell of old books, the murmurings and humming of a voice too sweet and untainted from the cruelty of this world? that had been the closest to a home he ever had. there’s scars on him, too, from that near-home. wounds that both litter his skin and pierce so much deeper, below the surface. he’s been running for four years now. running from responsibility, predictability, and most of all, from a person he hated at times — himself. but he kept tabs. of course he did. what good were robotic mice if not to spy?
it’s been four years and he’s heard that no. 6 is really thriving. it’s really going somewhere and the curtain the government and those in power hid behind really has been thrown to the side. nothing is perfect but no.6 belongs to the people now. and isn’t that just something?
so after four years he heads back to the place he had hated, despised, rallied against. he doesn’t need an ID to re-enter and if that isn’t an indication of progress he just doesn’t know what else could be.
he knows what day it is, this day. how could he forget? his destination isn’t to the city proper at first. no, it’s to that little hideout he’s amazed is still there and unlocked, perhaps abandoned and gathering dust for years. it could have been a home for a wayward actor, but what home wanted a rat? )
time changes a person. most obviously, change comes physically in the form of scars, longer hair and rough hands. less obvious are the subtle nuances — habits, lessons learned, quirks and little vocal ticks. for nezumi, he wouldn’t really be able to track the latter. why would he even bother? anyone that knew him when he was a kid, a reckless teenager, a lost and bitter child, is out of the picture.
it’s been four years and nezumi doesn’t have much to his name nowadays. the grand idea of visiting other cities and areas unknown had lost its allure after the first year. after the second, he had gone about reconnecting and checking in, so to speak, with all the wrongs and mishaps of his youth. by the third, he was truly homesick and only then, bitterly, realized he had no home to return to. he never did.
but the smell of old books, the murmurings and humming of a voice too sweet and untainted from the cruelty of this world? that had been the closest to a home he ever had. there’s scars on him, too, from that near-home. wounds that both litter his skin and pierce so much deeper, below the surface. he’s been running for four years now. running from responsibility, predictability, and most of all, from a person he hated at times — himself. but he kept tabs. of course he did. what good were robotic mice if not to spy?
it’s been four years and he’s heard that no. 6 is really thriving. it’s really going somewhere and the curtain the government and those in power hid behind really has been thrown to the side. nothing is perfect but no.6 belongs to the people now. and isn’t that just something?
so after four years he heads back to the place he had hated, despised, rallied against. he doesn’t need an ID to re-enter and if that isn’t an indication of progress he just doesn’t know what else could be.
he knows what day it is, this day. how could he forget? his destination isn’t to the city proper at first. no, it’s to that little hideout he’s amazed is still there and unlocked, perhaps abandoned and gathering dust for years. it could have been a home for a wayward actor, but what home wanted a rat? )
