"I fell and fell until the ground rose to meet me." Unsaid: And I fell with you. What happened, Robin? "It was humbling."
Sunday looks at her limbs, as she states he should know what their father had put her through. The metal piercings of his wing ache. There is a younger version of himself in a mirror behind her, clutching bloody feathers, sobbing. There is a dark man looming over him, over both of them. Sunday doesn't make eye contact with it. He can't.
"No. I don't know what he put you through. We're as different as blood and wine." His voice is soft as he shakes his head. She's his sister, but not in a way he finds familiar, that he understands. He sees how the Order has infected her, and knows it is much deeper than his own failing connection to it. "I know what I suffered, and I know that I chose it, out of some childish belief that if I were perfect enough, if I were more accepting and easily moulded into what he wanted, then maybe he would leave you be, and allow you to have your dreams. I was ready to give up everything for the sake of a future where you might be safe and happy, even if it meant losing everything. I was wrong. I know that, now."
Robin cries, and he can feel her anger, frustration, her anguish. Sunday's chest aches, but his mind lingers on his experiences thus far, how much he's learned. How much he had yet to learn. He needs her to know that there was more to life than this. That it could end, stop at anytime.
Order was not the only way. He still wasn't sure what the correct path might be, but it was a journey he was willing to take, either alone or with his loved ones at his side.
"A perfect hybrid of Order and Harmony..." He looks at her with sympathy. Knowing this now, looking at her makes his chest ache, a sad, lonely feeling. "What has been done to you was cruel."
Her resonance blinds him, static in his halo, a hiss within his mind. Still, he chooses to look. Still, he takes her hand and squeezes it.
"We can guide only when we know the way ourselves. The Aeons have no influence here. We need to find our own road forward. I want to walk with you. But the path we've traversed for so long will not serve us here."
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Sunday looks at her limbs, as she states he should know what their father had put her through. The metal piercings of his wing ache. There is a younger version of himself in a mirror behind her, clutching bloody feathers, sobbing. There is a dark man looming over him, over both of them. Sunday doesn't make eye contact with it. He can't.
"No. I don't know what he put you through. We're as different as blood and wine." His voice is soft as he shakes his head. She's his sister, but not in a way he finds familiar, that he understands. He sees how the Order has infected her, and knows it is much deeper than his own failing connection to it. "I know what I suffered, and I know that I chose it, out of some childish belief that if I were perfect enough, if I were more accepting and easily moulded into what he wanted, then maybe he would leave you be, and allow you to have your dreams. I was ready to give up everything for the sake of a future where you might be safe and happy, even if it meant losing everything. I was wrong. I know that, now."
Robin cries, and he can feel her anger, frustration, her anguish. Sunday's chest aches, but his mind lingers on his experiences thus far, how much he's learned. How much he had yet to learn. He needs her to know that there was more to life than this. That it could end, stop at anytime.
Order was not the only way. He still wasn't sure what the correct path might be, but it was a journey he was willing to take, either alone or with his loved ones at his side.
"A perfect hybrid of Order and Harmony..." He looks at her with sympathy. Knowing this now, looking at her makes his chest ache, a sad, lonely feeling. "What has been done to you was cruel."
Her resonance blinds him, static in his halo, a hiss within his mind. Still, he chooses to look. Still, he takes her hand and squeezes it.
"We can guide only when we know the way ourselves. The Aeons have no influence here. We need to find our own road forward. I want to walk with you. But the path we've traversed for so long will not serve us here."
Please.