Theatrical Muse #318. What does your future look like?
He's chasing him. Hunting him. Everything else is bent towards this one goal, an idle distraction, keeping his skills sharpened. Poor girl, she doesn't know. And she, oh, she has an idea and she's growing into a far better version of him than anyone recognizes, but no one sees that, either. Except for him. The ones who know what he plans even in the vague sense of knowing it's nothing good, they can only watch as he tears everything apart in his effort to get ahold of his prey. And then, maybe, if they have a strong stomach, they'll be able to watch when he tears his world apart. Vengeance achieved, he'll have nothing. He knows this, and he doesn't care.
He's stable. Achieved stability, somehow, in a precarious balance of loves and brilliant minds. And it takes effort. He knows it takes effort, and he's willing to put it forth, he has that kind of strength to give. But what he doesn't always know is what direction to push and when to hold back and how much to give and how strong, and that's what the rest of them help with. Guiding him to make it work. He brings inspiration, and passion; they bring reason, and peace. Somehow, they made it work.
She's been defeated time and time again, and by now it no longer matters. Having had everything that she worked so hard to build taken away from her, and then given back in manners most unexpected, she's given up trying. Oh, she still keeps her hand in. She still plays her games. But she's lost her taste for the bigger risks, the bigger stakes and she's not as young as she used to be. Retirement is just about her speed, right now. Semi-retirement. She still has that itch to scratch, and always will.
He's alone now, half of him sheared away in pursuit of their goal and yet all he has is that goal now, that trick, that lie that they told because if he strips the lie away from himself all that remains will be empty. He started out so bright and so full of hope and promises of a better life and then while he was locked away he learned what that better life costs, and as bright as he still is the core of him is rotting and festering and getting darker. He fell so long ago, lost everything, and now he sits and swings wildly between bitter resentment and resignation in his lot. He took that gamble and won. He took that gamble and lost. She reacts at extremes. He lies and patiently waits.
It all means the same thing. It all comes down to the same ending, however far along the path goes. The further down, the deeper and darker it gets, and wherever the journey stops, there it is.
If luck holds, it stops where he can still see the light.
He's stable. Achieved stability, somehow, in a precarious balance of loves and brilliant minds. And it takes effort. He knows it takes effort, and he's willing to put it forth, he has that kind of strength to give. But what he doesn't always know is what direction to push and when to hold back and how much to give and how strong, and that's what the rest of them help with. Guiding him to make it work. He brings inspiration, and passion; they bring reason, and peace. Somehow, they made it work.
She's been defeated time and time again, and by now it no longer matters. Having had everything that she worked so hard to build taken away from her, and then given back in manners most unexpected, she's given up trying. Oh, she still keeps her hand in. She still plays her games. But she's lost her taste for the bigger risks, the bigger stakes and she's not as young as she used to be. Retirement is just about her speed, right now. Semi-retirement. She still has that itch to scratch, and always will.
He's alone now, half of him sheared away in pursuit of their goal and yet all he has is that goal now, that trick, that lie that they told because if he strips the lie away from himself all that remains will be empty. He started out so bright and so full of hope and promises of a better life and then while he was locked away he learned what that better life costs, and as bright as he still is the core of him is rotting and festering and getting darker. He fell so long ago, lost everything, and now he sits and swings wildly between bitter resentment and resignation in his lot. He took that gamble and won. He took that gamble and lost. She reacts at extremes. He lies and patiently waits.
It all means the same thing. It all comes down to the same ending, however far along the path goes. The further down, the deeper and darker it gets, and wherever the journey stops, there it is.
If luck holds, it stops where he can still see the light.