Mar. 20th, 2007

killingsoftly: (Tangled)
They're buried at the bottom of his jewelry case under hoops, rings, a leather collar or two, but they are there. He doesn't think about them often, doesn't pull them out to run his fingers over them except now and then. There are two of them.

The first is simple in its beauty, and made of silver that marked it as precious, hammered out. Semi-precious stones line the chain that holds it together, and he was told, often, what a precious family heirloom it was and that he wasn't to touch it until he'd cleaned his grubby fingers, and only then because it had been Kieran's wish that he have it, before his ungrateful demon-whore of a mother took him away from them all.

He generally leaves that one alone, but he won't give it away.

The other, he's more apt to pull out now and again. The arms aren't equi-distant, but of proper length, but a circle winds through them, and a lattice of knotwork runs up and across both the center and the arms. It had been lovingly carved in wood with such precise detail that you could almost see the man there, in the knots, though he blended in so well it was hard to be sure he was there. One thing was clear though, if you looked hard enough at the design. The dying man had delicate, butterfly wings. How he'd managed it with fingers knotted by arthritis and eyes going blind from cataracts, Devin had never known.

He had been five when the old man gave it to him, aching fingers ruffling Devin's hair and a sweet smile curving his lips. She'd scowled, and said it was sacrilege. He'd hushed her and squatted down beside Devin to show him the details, how he'd melded two worlds, two faiths, into one, for him. Like him.

There are two of them. One he keeps out of obligation to the man he never knew. The other, out of love, and when he pulls that one out from under the accoutrements of his life, he still finds himself murmuring the soft words of the prayer he learned sitting on those bony knees as its carved beads slide through his fingers.

Sé do bheatha, a Mhuire, atá lán de ghrásta, tá an Tiarna leat. Is beannaithe thú idir na mná agus is beannaithe toradh do bhroinne, Íosa. A Naomh-Mhuire, a Mháthair Dé, guigh orainn na peacaigh,anois agus ar uair ár mbáis.*


*Translation: Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us sinners, Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
killingsoftly: (In flames)
gURL.comI took the "Chinese Elements" quiz on gURL.com
I am...
Fire

The ancient Yin-Yang scholars saw fire types as adventure-seekers who like constant change. Do you love a good party--and sometimes getting into a little trouble? Fire people have a way with words and friends enjoy listening to their stories nearly as much as they enjoy telling them. Read more...

What chinese element are you?
killingsoftly: (Wanna?)
I'm bored.
killingsoftly: (Promising from the start -- Warren)
Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles brusied by a lady in black
And I held my toungue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

ooc: Seriously? I meant to write them a fic to this AGES ago, then Kelci gave it to me for the [livejournal.com profile] lyric2lit challenge. So. Um. Not sure what fic will get written, but Devin said "Remember? That's the song that made me cry..." And then Methos says, "Um, no, it's our song. Me and Wes." And there is war in my head. 'Cause now Caleb wants it, too. But anyway. Devin gets dibs on posting. :)

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