history lives forever

Crying, screaming, kicking; violently wakened dreaming heralds the entrance of a new life into the world. Sometimes there's silence. Sometimes there's anger. The tapestry of life is woven with all its knots kept knuckle-bussed to the bottom of the loom, and everything after that is color, glorious color.

Horrible sounds. Very guttural, visceral human noises, always, and expected. Celebrated. Again, heralded.

But very rarely is there groaning.

"Did you kill 'im?"

Nia's whisper's sharp as tacks, and pretty kitty-clawed too. She's joking, of course - she thinks. And if Mythra did, in fact, do the deadly deed, which Minoth did she kill? How many loops, closed and bound, in that one flicker-snip second?

"I like my autonomous vocalizations lower stakes than that, now, thank you very much."

None and million, it seems. Nia doesn't let herself stare.

As if anyone could be normal about a thing like this. However.

Upon the Aegis's face is a decoration of scintillate gleaming; the angel mounted on head of pin spins, spins, spins, while standing perfectly in place, and its nose magnetizes along that infinite length to the point of Minoth's.

Still, she stays still. "Pretty good, huh?"

Minoth nods like a mountain moving. "Pretty good, pretty solid, pretty mag-fucking-nificent."

And Nia knows Cole doesn't swear. Does he rate his plays for a single f-bomb, d'you think?

Stress testing begins immediately, under Aegis Mythra's jurisdiction; she swings herself up past the bull-helmed belt as if she's not the heaviest bit of heaven either Nia or Minoth's seen recently, but her confidence is founded, and the mountain brings to bear.

With a shout: "This is all I'm getting, isn't it?"

Before Mythra can answer, Nia wriggles bare-shouldered up to the heaving basalt-blue jacket. Oh, he's so, so warm - the most absolutely unskeevy rendition of a dangerous man who's walked and laughed for miles and miles.

Not made up for glory, or power, or absolution. No, indeed. Just made up the passage of history into a bottomless thing called love.