Baten Kaitos - Begotten
Title: Begotten
Fandom: Baten Kaitos
Characters: Geldoblame
Genre: General
Word count: 200
Rating: K+
Summary: Alternate title: "Bathtime with Geldoblame."
~*~
His body began to sink down past the thin horizontal line that separated the moist twirling air above and below, the bathwater. Nestling into the porcelain curves of the tub here he was warm and secure, submerged in this soapy world of hazy light and the soft relentless pounding in his ears as if the bath water was somehow bearing him back into the womb and he was waiting, now, to emerge, and breathe...
Except the left side of his massive belly was already half-exposed to the steaming drafts above and his hair was already drifting on the surface in a matted tangle, and it was too late. Because even as the pads of his fingers were wrinkled from pruning, the rest of him was wrinkled with age.
Now there was no going back, and every passing moment was a heartbeat lost, a blemish gained, and especially in this opaque liquid case, time seemed to race on around him picking up little bits of his soul and spiriting them off and away. It was all he could do to curl up in the muted warmth and try to be that tiny snug creature again-whole and perfect and him.
Fandom: Baten Kaitos
Characters: Geldoblame
Genre: General
Word count: 200
Rating: K+
Summary: Alternate title: "Bathtime with Geldoblame."
~*~
His body began to sink down past the thin horizontal line that separated the moist twirling air above and below, the bathwater. Nestling into the porcelain curves of the tub here he was warm and secure, submerged in this soapy world of hazy light and the soft relentless pounding in his ears as if the bath water was somehow bearing him back into the womb and he was waiting, now, to emerge, and breathe...
Except the left side of his massive belly was already half-exposed to the steaming drafts above and his hair was already drifting on the surface in a matted tangle, and it was too late. Because even as the pads of his fingers were wrinkled from pruning, the rest of him was wrinkled with age.
Now there was no going back, and every passing moment was a heartbeat lost, a blemish gained, and especially in this opaque liquid case, time seemed to race on around him picking up little bits of his soul and spiriting them off and away. It was all he could do to curl up in the muted warmth and try to be that tiny snug creature again-whole and perfect and him.