...madness is a nuisance and no one is immune
'why bother bothering, just for a poem or another sad song to sing' ~ Fragile
prompt; fragile -for time_schizo
word count; 937
The worry grew. Almost constantly; her own, at least she believed it was her own. Ric's. Even some of the other members of the camp. They were all growing a little more worried. Not all for the same reason, but Ophelia channelled it that way. She knew that her own leaving and returned wasn't exactly something that assisted in the current order of things, but something big was going on with him, and she wasn't sure how to help.
Rictor was right; it was hard knowing what to do, because sometimes there was this utter terror from Martini that made Ophelia's skin itch and freeze. She couldn't possibly understand what it was, even though she wanted to.
It was the day she found him, huddled down against a wall, knees drawn up and head pressed against them, he was muttering something and flinching away from the side as if there was someone there. She didn't understand much about his powers, but she knew that some times he saw things that other people could never see, things that only came to him. And it drove him mad. That fear was there again; that terror, the dangerous tilt towards that brink that might push him too far. She didn't like it when that edge was blurred, when it wasn't defined rightly, when she could feel him falling towards it. She wasn't going to let that happen if she could help it though.
Crawling over towards him, looking around as if she'd see where the threat was coming from, Ophelia gently pressed her hands on Martini's shoulders, nudging him to look up. There was this wild, fearful look in his eyes, like he was searching for her right there in front of him and couldn't see her. When he started to look past her, she pushed him upright with more force, crawling into his lap and holding his face to look at her.
Her first instinct was to sooth the fear, wrap him up in something warm, something loved and something needed. It took a while, her hand petting over the side of his face, stroking down his jaw while she pushed the warmth of love, and adoration into him, blanketing it around that terror and fear, drawing it out of him and casting it aside -even she didn't want that in her. "Shh, shh, sweetie, Ophelia's here now you see, it's time to set yourself free." At least for the moment, if Ophelia could urge him towards it.
His eyes were calming, but he was still skittish, she could see that the way he kept glancing behind her, his lips moving as if to talk but nothing coming out. She'd seen it before, back then, when she fed on insanity and nothing but it. The broken ones curled in the corners, mumbling to themselves and seeing nothing that was there. That couldn't be Martini's fate, it just couldn't. Her forehead pressed to his, her hands still smoothing over his jaw, shushing him softly as she filtered the feelings around and around, letting him feel safe and loved. She didn't really think about kissing him; she just did.
Tilting her face and pressing her lips to his mumbling ones, just a slight pressure until he stopped muttering past her mouth. It was soft and soothing, like everything else, at least at first. Her fingers moved to brush through his hair, softly and gently caressing to the nape of his neck as she built the loop of tender, safe, warm emotions to ring through him. She felt him start to shift back; the fear starting to build, and her pressure to his mouth increased, kissing him more vigorously, pulling him into the moment and away from what taunted him. As her tongue slid into his mouth, all distraction fell away and his hands shifted to her waist.
Her hands pulled him closer, those echoing feelings running through both of them and multiplying, magnifying, building to crescendo and rolling through them. Ophelia barely gave him room to breath; her lips pressing to his in an almost possessive clinch, her tongue stroking over his to keep his attention, she really needn't have worried about that. As his hands ran up her back, his legs relaxing slightly, lowering and pulling her closer to his chest, the last dredges of fear and that panic ebbed away from him, leaving her with a pliant, willing and rather enthusiastic little time manipulator.
Before long, her fingers were simply sliding through his hair, petting at his skull while their lips moved over each others, soft and lazy as the contentment and adoration made their limbs heavy and happy. She'd always known his psyche was so much more fragile than her own, that she was the strong minded of the pair of them just because of how her mind had altered. His wasn't as tangible as hers was. And he had twenty four usable hours in every day for the torment to continue.
Humming softly against his mouth, melting into his chest with a rumble of pleasure, breaking off to nuzzle along his jaw as she felt him relax against her, "When the people are disturbed, well they should be disturbed, because there's a lesson that really ought to be learned." She whispered it softly into his ear, pulling back just slightly to watch him with questioning grey eyes.
"I guess," his voice was a little cracked, and he licked his lips as he stopped and swallowed lightly, "I guess it was your turn to play Knight in tarnished armour?" And Ophelia smiled widely, as a small hint of a smile worked it's way into Martini's eyes.
prompt; fragile -for time_schizo
word count; 937
The worry grew. Almost constantly; her own, at least she believed it was her own. Ric's. Even some of the other members of the camp. They were all growing a little more worried. Not all for the same reason, but Ophelia channelled it that way. She knew that her own leaving and returned wasn't exactly something that assisted in the current order of things, but something big was going on with him, and she wasn't sure how to help.
Rictor was right; it was hard knowing what to do, because sometimes there was this utter terror from Martini that made Ophelia's skin itch and freeze. She couldn't possibly understand what it was, even though she wanted to.
It was the day she found him, huddled down against a wall, knees drawn up and head pressed against them, he was muttering something and flinching away from the side as if there was someone there. She didn't understand much about his powers, but she knew that some times he saw things that other people could never see, things that only came to him. And it drove him mad. That fear was there again; that terror, the dangerous tilt towards that brink that might push him too far. She didn't like it when that edge was blurred, when it wasn't defined rightly, when she could feel him falling towards it. She wasn't going to let that happen if she could help it though.
Crawling over towards him, looking around as if she'd see where the threat was coming from, Ophelia gently pressed her hands on Martini's shoulders, nudging him to look up. There was this wild, fearful look in his eyes, like he was searching for her right there in front of him and couldn't see her. When he started to look past her, she pushed him upright with more force, crawling into his lap and holding his face to look at her.
Her first instinct was to sooth the fear, wrap him up in something warm, something loved and something needed. It took a while, her hand petting over the side of his face, stroking down his jaw while she pushed the warmth of love, and adoration into him, blanketing it around that terror and fear, drawing it out of him and casting it aside -even she didn't want that in her. "Shh, shh, sweetie, Ophelia's here now you see, it's time to set yourself free." At least for the moment, if Ophelia could urge him towards it.
His eyes were calming, but he was still skittish, she could see that the way he kept glancing behind her, his lips moving as if to talk but nothing coming out. She'd seen it before, back then, when she fed on insanity and nothing but it. The broken ones curled in the corners, mumbling to themselves and seeing nothing that was there. That couldn't be Martini's fate, it just couldn't. Her forehead pressed to his, her hands still smoothing over his jaw, shushing him softly as she filtered the feelings around and around, letting him feel safe and loved. She didn't really think about kissing him; she just did.
Tilting her face and pressing her lips to his mumbling ones, just a slight pressure until he stopped muttering past her mouth. It was soft and soothing, like everything else, at least at first. Her fingers moved to brush through his hair, softly and gently caressing to the nape of his neck as she built the loop of tender, safe, warm emotions to ring through him. She felt him start to shift back; the fear starting to build, and her pressure to his mouth increased, kissing him more vigorously, pulling him into the moment and away from what taunted him. As her tongue slid into his mouth, all distraction fell away and his hands shifted to her waist.
Her hands pulled him closer, those echoing feelings running through both of them and multiplying, magnifying, building to crescendo and rolling through them. Ophelia barely gave him room to breath; her lips pressing to his in an almost possessive clinch, her tongue stroking over his to keep his attention, she really needn't have worried about that. As his hands ran up her back, his legs relaxing slightly, lowering and pulling her closer to his chest, the last dredges of fear and that panic ebbed away from him, leaving her with a pliant, willing and rather enthusiastic little time manipulator.
Before long, her fingers were simply sliding through his hair, petting at his skull while their lips moved over each others, soft and lazy as the contentment and adoration made their limbs heavy and happy. She'd always known his psyche was so much more fragile than her own, that she was the strong minded of the pair of them just because of how her mind had altered. His wasn't as tangible as hers was. And he had twenty four usable hours in every day for the torment to continue.
Humming softly against his mouth, melting into his chest with a rumble of pleasure, breaking off to nuzzle along his jaw as she felt him relax against her, "When the people are disturbed, well they should be disturbed, because there's a lesson that really ought to be learned." She whispered it softly into his ear, pulling back just slightly to watch him with questioning grey eyes.
"I guess," his voice was a little cracked, and he licked his lips as he stopped and swallowed lightly, "I guess it was your turn to play Knight in tarnished armour?" And Ophelia smiled widely, as a small hint of a smile worked it's way into Martini's eyes.