Fimbulwinter
Jul. 5th, 2006 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleTitle: Fimbulwinter
Challenge: [068]: Time
Wordcount: 218
Character: Vexen
Spoiler Warnings: Passing reference to characters from KH2.
Notes: What does it mean to be in a place that does not exist?
A moment of reflection for XIII Kikan's Number Four.
Trailing hems soft as night and dark as black ice swirled about his heels as the frost-master strode quickly from the faint-neon chamber, scattering the bone-pale empty husks before him as he slipped snow-silent through the chiaroscuro that was this half-real prison.
Years, long empty years; and yet, he was unchanged.
Heavy locks of frosted cream and snowy brass fell down his shoulders, framed a face long set in hollow bitterness and empty pride; and not a moment since that so-swift agony had marked him.
There was no end to stasis in this unreal world; no blinding day, no pale-shining orb hung heavenward for the nightmaster's moon-eyed dancer to sing his savage lament to.
Only the eternity of nothingness, the endless night – a heat-death of the universe that even winter's scholar could not hope to match.
Our glass is broken, the sands bled out – the clock has stopped;
And for how long will we wait here empty in the dark?
Though winter's bite did him no harm and his empty soul felt nothing, the frost-master shivered as he paused in his stride, lifted his dead gaze toward the hollow king's broad balustrade, his shadowed court.
Forever was a long time coming; and the darkness, without end --
Challenge: [068]: Time
Wordcount: 218
Character: Vexen
Spoiler Warnings: Passing reference to characters from KH2.
Notes: What does it mean to be in a place that does not exist?
A moment of reflection for XIII Kikan's Number Four.
Trailing hems soft as night and dark as black ice swirled about his heels as the frost-master strode quickly from the faint-neon chamber, scattering the bone-pale empty husks before him as he slipped snow-silent through the chiaroscuro that was this half-real prison.
Years, long empty years; and yet, he was unchanged.
Heavy locks of frosted cream and snowy brass fell down his shoulders, framed a face long set in hollow bitterness and empty pride; and not a moment since that so-swift agony had marked him.
There was no end to stasis in this unreal world; no blinding day, no pale-shining orb hung heavenward for the nightmaster's moon-eyed dancer to sing his savage lament to.
Only the eternity of nothingness, the endless night – a heat-death of the universe that even winter's scholar could not hope to match.
Our glass is broken, the sands bled out – the clock has stopped;
And for how long will we wait here empty in the dark?
Though winter's bite did him no harm and his empty soul felt nothing, the frost-master shivered as he paused in his stride, lifted his dead gaze toward the hollow king's broad balustrade, his shadowed court.
Forever was a long time coming; and the darkness, without end --
