[Farrin]

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L

ong nights marked by little sleep and heavy breath. Farrin tossed and turned, tension gripping his neck, his brow, his mind. Sweat trickled down his back, soaking the sheets beneath him. Visions. But were they nightmares? Or was he sifting away once more? The difference had been blurred long ago. 

His feet sank into the sand. The dark lake tucked away in the recesses of his chronkinetic mind had grown. A vast expanse of murky tides, eddied by blood and the black of death. It appeared to be an ocean now, the opposite end beyond his sight. Silence. A profound muteness that consumed all but the shifting tides reached out in every direction. This place- it was his kingdom in shadows, and he, ruler of one. Isolated, far beyond the reach of the world. So calm. So peaceful. So entirely cold. 

A shiver saw the hairs along his arms raised. He was without his hero threads here. Only dark shorts and an equally black sleeveless shirt. His go-to attire. His chest rose and died with the waves. 

"Why 'ere. Why do I always end up back 'ere," he whispered to no one. 

 A flash. A memory. A time and place far behind him now. It felt all of five minutes ago. 

A younger Farrin is running down a street just below the elevated one-train route back in New York. A smile flashes across his face. Bread. A few apples. And a chocolate chip granola bar. All of it is cradled in his arms as he takes off, sprinting away from the lone police officer trailing him out of the supermarket. It was one of the big chains. They'd live. 

"Farrin, you ready?" Saxon shouted. 

"Come on, Speedy! It's time to ditch em!" Delilah followed.  

"Oi, yuh' know me," he said, eyeing the streets ahead.

Running solo was easy enough, but tugging along two others was incredibly difficult still for a young, time-turning lad. Still, he couldn't let them down. That wasn't the O'Rourke way. 

It was late. The only cars on the long street running below the railway were all parked. Open space. Yeah, he could handle this. "Hold on ta' yer arses!" He chirped. Three familiar fields of temporal green latched onto the young teens, and all three blasted off with fully time-turned acceleration. All laughs and smiles. They dusted the policeman. Today would be a great haul. 

He's back on the beach, toeing the tides now. They're gone. Everyone else, too. Back in his kingdom, where others are but fleeting memories. They grace the sands of time for all of a blink, and then they're gone. The cycle repeats, and it's only he who remains.  

[attr="class","FarrinLeft"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Symbol of Heroism [attr="class","fa fa-cog"]

[attr="class","FarrinQuote"]Even if it's already been decided. Even if it's set in stone. I'll smash that future!

[attr="class","FarrinBot"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Tags: @people here
[attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Notes: Delilah's linked art is actually her present day look, but this gives a rough idea. 

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[Farrin]

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T

waters ebb and flow. They lick at his ankles, then recede. A moment later, they return for another bite, a nearly imperceptible modicum higher. But he's grounded in place, Farrin's sanguine eyes locked on a low set moon that bathed the beach in soft light. He reached, an outstretched arm spanning in its direction, but it was far too far away. There was a definitive lack of warmth to the light here, but it was all he had. The only thing to keep him from falling into the black depths of a thousand far-off dreams and limitless nightmares.

He's back on the docks. The city is always expanding, reaching further and further into the sea despite rising tides. On the upper west side of the city though, there are a few projects left abandoned still. That's where they hide. Delilah, Saxon, and Farrin. They and the band they belonged to. Light Runners, they called themselves. It was the first time Farrin had stuck around for more than a few weeks. Others had taken advantage of his abilities in the past. His kindness, too. There wasn't a doubt in his mind the Light Runners had, but he had Saxon and Delilah. People he could trust. People who cared. So, he stayed. 

"Del, I'm telling you. The three of you can handle it," Vic said, trailing Delilah's path.

"No. Absolutely not. Even with Speedy, there's just too many guns. Too many men. I'm risking Saxon and Farrin like that."

"Del, just listen."

"You listen. We're not doing it."

"I'll have three more outside, keeping an eye out and ready to back you guys up if needed."

"We don't do that. Food, pillows and blankets, clothing, I'm on board with all of that. Guns? Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."

Victor grabbed Delilah by the arm and gave her just enough of a tug to draw her gaze. 

"Delilah, we can't keep getting by on scraps. I need something to trade. Look," he emphasized, waving his hand to the dozen other kids and teens, the few adults, too, that dotted the warehouse. 

A few coughs echoed through the open space. A few children shared proper blankets, but most of the others lay in rags, their clothing dotted with holes and tears as well. Misfits and the forgotten. The beaten and broken. Damned to shadows beyond the world's sight. Money greased wheels. They had none. 

"We're falling apart here. We need something. Something big. I don't like it either, but we know where they'll be, and we know when the police are showing up. Make our move at the right time, and we can slip in, grab the goods, and get out. And we'll have something heavy to put on the table, something I can trade for real money, buy some real food. We need this."

Delilah sighed. "The problem is when you say "we" you mean my brother, Farrin, and me. You're throwing us out there every single night. Now you want us near a police raid? There has to be another way."

"There isn't. Nothing out there we can handle. I know it's a gambit, but it's one we have to take. And it won't be just the three of you. You'll have Alex, Isiah, and Jeffrey keeping watch outside, like I said, ready to move in in case things do go sideways." 

"They will- go sideways, that is."

"Come on, Del," Saxon turned a corner, chiming in. "Vic is right. We need this," her fire-haired brother by something deeper than blood said, looking at a trio of kids sharing a mattress.

"You're up for it, right Farrin?" He looked above to a young Farrin whose legs dangled over the side of an above catwalk. 

"I'm, uh, I'm no' so sure. Maybe? If it's all we've ta' go on I suppose, but Del is right. It's a risk." 

The nip of a frigid sea snapped him back to the dreamscape, back to the sands of time on which he stood. The moon ever arched here. Up and down, up and down, ever repeating. This place was beyond the sun's touch. His kingdom. His prison. He is the prisoner king, and his warden's name is Solitude.   

[attr="class","FarrinLeft"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Symbol of Heroism [attr="class","fa fa-cog"]

[attr="class","FarrinQuote"]Even if it's already been decided. Even if it's set in stone. I'll smash that future!

[attr="class","FarrinBot"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Tags: @people here
[attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Notes: Write Notes Here

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[Farrin]

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W

hispers in the dark. Most of the voices share that singsong Irish lilt, but they're not his own. There's a brush against his wrist, and Farrin turns. But his only company entails the winds, sand, and a dark sky above. A long exhale escapes his lungs, and so his gaze shifts back to the moon above the sea.

Not yet. The only way out is through. It's scary, but you're almost there.

He's given up trying to pinpoint his tormentors. Even invisible, he knows their ranks to be legion, and he is only one. In this place, even the imprisoned king is powerless against them.

No. Not powerless. Never powerless.

"Goddamn it, Saxon move!" Delilah shouted.

She was right. She was always right. It had gone to shit. The lookouts were spotted. Isiah was shot. Jeffrey caught. Alex. Who knew? The police busted the gate down and stormed the small complex. It was a raid against one of the local gangs. How on earth did he do? Again? Hand them lit matches and dare them to walk over the gas. This was their cover? Bullets flew. People died. Saxon was hurt. They made it into the armory, and, surprise, surprise, the goons were arming up. The three of them took on all five of the big fuckers, but not before that ice quirk bastard got a stab at Saxon;s side. Now, he was slowing down.

The bellowing cracks of machine gun fire blasted from down the hall. Delilah and Farrin carried two weapons cases each; Saxon had dropped one and clutched onto the other for dear life.

"Go! Don't stop, I'm right behind you!" He yelled.

The air around him shimmered as Delilah used her quirk. A limited form of spacial manipulation, in which she could introduce varying properties. Five steps became two for Saxon, and the pain was dulled.

"Del, no. Save your strength!" He shouted. He knew it was a costly quirk. "Farrin! Tell her!"

Farrin teeth groun together. A trembling stare flickered between the two. He was right. They had to make it outside, then came the difficult part of crossing the compound's back lot without being hit, but Saxon was slowing. Every step took twice the time of the one before it. And Farrin zeroed his temporal tank back in the armory scrap. He needed to be stronger. He needed to be faster. Even with his abilities, he wasn't enough.

"Tell her!" Saxon yelled.

"He's, he's right, lass. I'm tapped out. Saxon's quirk is strong, but it won't get 'cross the lot any faster. We need ta' play smart, not hard."

"Dammit!" She cursed, letting the shimmering space dissipate. "We're, we're almost there. The double door is just ahead, then we turn into the lot, through the opening in the fence, and get the hell-"

A tall thug adorned in a dark suit turned the corner. His machine gun snapped up into place, its barrel facing the trio... but Delilah was faster. She drew a dagger from the belt around her thigh, then tossed it hard toward the thug. The dagger was lodged dead center in the man's chest. Instantly, he dropped. Only to be replaced by two more men.

These two opened fire immediately. An endless stream of bullets fell on the three but stopped in the shimmering air. They slowed and slowed until finally, they stopped. This wasn't time. It was space, and the many properties Del could imbue in it. Sweat poured from her dark locks as she forced the bullets to course correct. Return to sender. They blasted back and peppered the two gunmen. Blood splattered, and the two dropped to the ground beside their partner's corpse. The congealed mess of blood spread across the tiled floor.

"Safe," she huffed.

But she was absolutely knackered. They all were. It was written across their fatigued forms. Dangling arms barely held onto the weapons cases. Trembling legs. Sunken eyes. She was right, though; the doors were just ahead. Get outside, cross the lot, through the gate, and they were home free. Farrin took to a sprint and kicked the door open.

Death by firing squad.

Thunderous pops rang throughout the compound, but the thugs were well informed, it appeared. The young trio stormed through the door, greeted only by a dozen barrels aimed their way.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. We knew someone would move on the experimentals but, really, kids? Ah well, what're gonna do," the head honcho spoke up. "Drop em. We need those weapons, then we're making tracks before the compound is lost."

"No. No, please don't," Delilah pleaded. "Here, take them. Just let us go. Please," she said, dropping her cases.

Farrin followed suit, both of them throwing their hands up. But not Saxon. He limped forward. "No. We've come too far. We can't go back to the Runners empty handed," he spoke under his breath.

"Saxon don't!" Delilah shouted, but it was too late; his free hand rose, and an inferno grew under the firing squad's feet.

Pillars of fire speared four of them. But under the rest, only a few sparks sputtered. "Open fire! Open fire!" The lead gunman shouted. The bullets flew, only to be ensnared by a thin emerald field. Farrin's hands were splayed out before him.

"Get outta 'ere, both o' yuh," he said through grit teeth. "I can't hold it long, move!"

"Farrin no, please, come on. We can all make it still," Delilah sobbed.

The world was cruel. It taxed the broken of every drop- blood, sweat, everything. It demanded their entirety, and when it offered them kindness, it was only ever to steal it away. One way or another, someone wasn't making back home today. 

"Go!" He shouted, the temporal deceleration field shrinking.

Saxon was stunned, still as stone. The shimmering, emerald field gave way, and the rounds were let loose. None of the trio had moved an inch. He needed more- more strength, more speed, more time.

Three more temporal fields formed around the trio. Farrin spun, tackling both Del and Saxon to the ground. ABove them the storm raged, bullets flying over their heads. The fields flickered out. He grabbed them, grit his teeth, and forced back back up. The trio shone with an emerald hue and moved with a burst of speed. Jittery, fatigued legs gave out. Time-turned or not, if Farrin's strength failed, it didn't matter. He fell, the field again, too.

"Move!" He yelled again, willing this wish into his friends' bones. 

Delilah and Saxon got to their feet this time, but the squad was already adjusting. Even with time turned, he couldn't outrun bullets yet. And he had to move all three of them again. His heart beat miles a minute, muscles tore, and pain flooded his veins like currents through the spillway. Farrin pushed himself up and stumbled forward. The rattling blasts of gunfire echoed behind him.

Another field ensnared Farrin, and he thrust himself ahead, then spun to face their enemies once more. He threw his hand up for another deceleration field, but the limb fell limp. His personal field collapsed again. No matter how many times he forced the fields up, he couldn't maintain them like this, so he stumbled a few more steps toward their exit. 

"Farrin, come on!" Delilah shouted. "We're almost there!" Saxon followed the two of them just near the gap in the fence. Blood seeped down his arm. "I'm.. I"m nicked," a quivering voice said lowly, looking to his blood stained shirt. 

Bullets continued to fly. One of the gunner's had Farrin directly in his sights. One final field wrapped around the young time turner, and he leaped to his side, narrowly dodging the stream of bullets. Saxon screamed, then the fire-hair fury dropped. He'd been hit in the spine. It didn't matter how strong one was, you weren't moving after that. 

"NO!" Delilah screeched.

A pain filled scream that was followed by shimmering air and hell unleashed on the children's enemies. The remaining eight gunmen exploded in heaps of blood. Pressure pushed in on Farrin from all sides, clamped on every cell. It tore into his fibers. But time and space congealed, synergize, and spared Farrin the worst of Delilah's wrath, unintended or otherwise.

The girl dropped to her knees beside her brother and cradled his head.

"Come on, leave it out, Del," he coughed, smiling, "no time for all of that. You need to move. Grab the guns. Get out of here."

"I can't leave you here," she sobbed, Farrin came to a stand and limped over to siblings. Maybe they weren't related by blood, but some things ran thicker than that.

"Absolutely not," Farrin nearly whispered, his voice too weak for anything more. "Together, or not at all."

"No, no. That's not how your mom's motto went, Speedy. Everyone knows Morgana the Crimson Light's motto. It's "together, as one," and nothing can change that. Now and forever, we're one."

A tear rolled down Farrin's cheek. In the past. In the present, too.

"I'm a supernova. Burn bright. Die young." He chuckled.

He was right there with them, laughing until his last breath. Probably somewhere even still- wherever the soul went next. Yes, he was there, then he was gone. Farrin knelled beside Saxon. His hands scooped under his friend's back and legs, but Delilah waved him away. "No. I've got him. It. It needs to be me," she sobbed. So, the young lad ran back to grab two of the weapon cases, and together, they ran.

There's still more

Back on the beach, Farrin rubbed the tear away. It was Saxon he saw that day he and Jun were attacked. It hurt, but it made sense, seeing him stand among the dead. Why Delilah, though? Had she also passed on?

"What does it matter? I dun' want it anymore. None o' it," Farrin whimpered, another tear following the last. "I'm tired. I'm so tired already, n' I've seen yer' life. I know how much more lies ahead."

A cloaked figure stood beside him, just a step back now. A gaunt hand reached with fingers little more than bone and touched Farrin's shoulder.

"Such is our duty, lad—we who share from the temporal sea, those still beyond the sands spoiled wit' rot. I didn't mean fer' things ta' turn out this way, but weave as I would; there are always interlopers. Where heroism rises, there will always be villainy ta' meet it."

"Then why do we have ta' keep on goin? What's the point?"

"Because if we don't, who will? Look inside, I know it hurts, hurts so bad yuh feel at times it's no' worth breathin', but peel away the pain n' yuh'll find the truth. That's what it is ta' be Oberon. A little further now, a little further n' you can breathe again."

[attr="class","FarrinLeft"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Symbol of Heroism [attr="class","fa fa-cog"]

[attr="class","FarrinQuote"]Even if it's already been decided. Even if it's set in stone. I'll smash that future!

[attr="class","FarrinBot"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Tags: @people here
[attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Notes: A little retcon here for how Saxon implied he died in thread: Trepid Delivery. 

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A

 younger Farrin slouched against the cold concrete wall of the Runner's warehouse. He balled up, eyes locked onto the floor. They brought Saxon's body back with them. The two weapons cases he had grabbed made it, too. They made it back, but they would never be whole again.

This was it—the end of the rope. For however short a time, he had found a family again. A measure of belonging. They made plans each and every day together. Whether or not those plans came to fruition, there was security in having that presence in your life. Knowing they had each other's backs, they'd be there for one another. But not anymore. Things changed. And change always seemed to bring for the worse.

Vic was thrown through the door of the lower office, Deliliah following him out of the room. She stared daggers into his heart. The air around her continued to shimmer. She hadn't tired. Not one bit. Anger, grief, misery. They made for a hell of a fuel source. 

"I should kill you!"

Her screams echoed through the warehouse. 

"I told you! I told you this would happen, and you threw us in there anyway! We're people! People! You don't just throw us in there because that's what the formula requires! You're no different than everyone else, making this country, the whole damn world, a mess. Squeeze use for every drop, then leave us behind when we have nothing of worth anymore. I SHOULD KILL YOU!" 

A few of the others rounded the scene. Fear. Confusion. Hurt. They understood. But Vic was the only one ever to take charge. True as her words were, how could they get by without him? 

"Delilah, please don't," one of the older gents said, daring to step in toward Vic. 

The shimmering in the air grew bolder. Her eyes swung upward toward anyone who dared defend him. How dare they? They hadn't lost someone like she had? They might have pretended to care, but where were they? Where were they when Saxon needed them? 

"Back off!" 

"Hey, hey, don't get angry at them. Just- just look at me, Del," Vic coughed up, an open palm raised in her direction. 

"Yeah, yeah. Play saint all you want, but you're a sinner, and you know it. Corrupt. Rotten. Disgusting. The lot of you!" 

The tears kept flowing, but she didn't back off. Not a step. She could bring the whole warehouse down in a single breath if she wanted to. She could kill everyone inside in a blink. But she wouldn't, right? Farrin wasn't so sure. Something had broken in her with Saxon's loss. It changed her, and she'd never change back. 

"Del, it's no' worth it. Yuh dun' want that blood on yer' hands," Farrin words were low, raspy, when he came up from behind her. 

"So even you're siding with him? With them... against me?" She scowled, looking to him now. 

"No, course not. I'm always wit' yuh, but that's why I'm tellin' yuh yuh dun' want ta' do this. Saxon wouldn't want it. Yuh know that," he said, offering a hand for her to take so he could whisk them away from the scene. 

Against her? Not in a million years. She and Saxon were his only family now. Maybe he wasn't as close to either of them as they were to one another, but they had given him something of unparalleled value, and you didn't turn your back on something like that. On your family. 

The shimmering faded, and Delilah turned. "You don't get it. I knew letting you in wasn't a safe bet. You're just not there, and I don't know if you ever will be. I need something I can see and depend on. And- that's just not you." She brushed Farrin's hand aside and walked right him. 

He didn't understand it at the time. Not fully. Not there? Not him? What had she meant? Was he not a safe bet because he hadn't been what she wanted him to be? 

"I," he stuttered, turning to face her as she walked away, "I did all I could." The words cracked in his throat. "Tried me' best ta' save 'im. You too. I, I woulda died there if need be. Yuh know that, right? I woulda given anythin' ta' get both o' yuh home." 

"But you didn't. He's dead. Saxon's dead. And he's never coming back. I did everything I could for you, too, but when it mattered most, you didn't reciprocate, and now he's gone," she said, walking into the shadows, disappearing beyond his sight. 

"I tried," he whispered.

And that's when the walls went back up. Brick by brick, he stacked them as high as they would go because nobody was coming. Nobody was coming to help, and he knew that now. They would speak again, but it was true. She had changed. And even when she apologized, it couldn't be clearer that she didn't feel the same for him anymore. Her words had changed, as had her stories, her version of what had happened. As if she was only trying to dress up her feelings in nicety rather than truth. Because the truth was ugly, it was detached, and it was uncaring. She appraised him differently; it wouldn't be enough no matter what he tried to do. If Farrin wasn't the fastest, the strongest, the most capable, he would not be enough for the world.  

"In this endless nightmare, where all our dreams come true, you reached for control, some way to pull through. You thought in love you might smother your fury and dispel your fears, but now, through the black torrent, you see your truth. Do you still hear their screams? This thing inside can break you, no matter your promise. It reached beyond even the inevitability of death. But in this darkness, you may find it. After all, in your chest still beats a heart."  

The words were spoken in legion. They taunted the Farrin's ears as he floated amid the sea of infinite black. The water nipped at his ears and soaked his hair. Tears raced down the sides of his cheeks. It wasn't going to end, was it? The hollow and the hurt inside. It was his "truth" now. 

"There is only one way out. You need only leap." 

And, if by powers unknown, the black sea slowly drains. It emptied, consumed by a whirlpool. A vortex so dark no light could ever pierce the void in its throat. Farrin was on his feet now, and into the abyss, he stared. Leap? Was that the way out? Was he only one leap away from quieting that truth?

[attr="class","FarrinLeft"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Symbol of Heroism [attr="class","fa fa-cog"]

[attr="class","FarrinQuote"]Even if it's already been decided. Even if it's set in stone. I'll smash that future!

[attr="class","FarrinBot"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Tags: @people here
[attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Notes: Write Notes Here

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[Farrin]

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H

e felt the hand on his shoulder. Familiar, skeletal fingers. "No. The freedom found down there is fleeting and requires absolute submission. It will cost you that which you can never afford to lose." Every piece, every part, every fiber of Farrin's body pleaded that he jump. Torment inside and out. Enough was enough already. But deep below a sea of sand and threads, those far from the black waters he tread now, he knew it was wrong. Something in the vagrant's voice resonated in him. It was the him of another time, another story, but one similar to his own. 

"I- I know," he answered. 

Still, his golden stare tried to pierce the black void. It swallowed the whole of the ocean yet hungered for more. An appetite felt by all who ventured here. It wanted more. It wanted him. 

A younger Farrin wandered the city streets. His arms were wrapped in muddied bandages, drenched with murky waters and blood. He sped down the highway, racing anything. Everything in sight. He had to become faster. Faster. Faster still. Delilah had left the runners. Farrin joined her. Or, well, he tried, but she hadn't wanted him at her side any longer. That much was clear. She went one way. He went another. The Runners were getting along without them after selling the experimental weaponry, even if barely. Occasionally, Farrin stopped by to check in on the lot, but they didn't look at him the same anymore. It hit the news that someone was ripping the local mob apart, presumably Delilah, and so the rest grew to fear her. Farrin, too, even if he hadn't anything to do with it. She had changed and struck her enemies down without mercy. It wasn't justice, but anger - and probably fear - that drove her. No need to be afraid if nobody could ever come close to you. Enemies, allies, family. Kill them, push them all away, and you are safe for all of time. 

And there was nothing Farrin could do. Del refused to listen. So, he ran. He ran, and he kept on running. Into the black of night and the shadows of day. Into danger, too. Days. Weeks. Months. Time melded together. It wasn't much longer until he collapsed with exhaustion. For every life Del claimed, Farrin tried to save another. To balance her scales as best he could, even if from a distance, but it became too much, even for him. And that's when he realized he needed to become something more. Something greater. Something he saw only in those few glowing dreams from another time, another place. Something the world would call Oberon.  

[attr="class","FarrinLeft"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Symbol of Heroism [attr="class","fa fa-cog"]

[attr="class","FarrinQuote"]Even if it's already been decided. Even if it's set in stone. I'll smash that future!

[attr="class","FarrinBot"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Tags: @people here
[attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Notes: Write Notes Here

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[Farrin]

[attr="class","Farrin"]

[attr="class","KC1"]

[attr="class","FarrinBG"]

[attr="class","FarrinTop"]

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H

e stared into the abyss, knew he didn't have it in him to dive, but that one day the world would leave him without a choice. This Other said only danger awaited in the form of false promises, but to Farrin it was fear that stayed him. Fear. Even standing here at the edge, it was cold. So very cold. A cold that ripped skin from bone and simultaneously numbed every sensation. It was emptiness, hunger, void. Whatever was waiting for him down there wanted something only he possessed. Something with which to satiate this endless hunger. To make itself whole. 

"Bad as it is down there, I know, one day, yuh expect I'll face whatever awaits me down in that darkness. One time or another, whatever it is yuv' orchestrated, it ends down there."

"Correct. Not yet, though. The hour of our gambit is still some ways away. There's work still to be done." 

"Yuh mean me. I need ta' become... you, or whatever it was yuh' were."

"Something more. Something better."

The idea stirred in the pits of Farrin's gut. Better? He couldn't whip about beams of time, couldn't distort the temporal flow like the Other could. If this wraith couldn't get the job done, if he who was truly Oberon failed, what chance did Farrin have? 

"Yuh've a far greater chance than I e'er did," he said with the return of that familiar singsong lilt returning.  

"Yuh' had a stronger quirk, more people at yer' side. The others- from the photo. Fer me' they're beyond reach now," Farrin said, clutching the picture which was now in his pocket. His other hand, tucked in a pocket as well, grabbed at a ring, "yuh' had Sada too. I dun' know where she is now. Dun' know what ta' do, where ta' go. I'm lost without her, without all o' em." 

"She comes. She goes. She returns again. Yuh' haven't seen the last o' her yet, I promise yuh' that. She brings the greatest comfort, the strongest o' light, the sweetest soul that sets yer own ablaze, n', on occasion, such terrible anguish. Such is love. Such is life. Up n' down, but e'er forward. She has her battles ta' fight, n' you have yers. Yuh' need ta' be ready fer' anythin', no matter where yuh' find yerself. But I promise yuh' it's no' over." 

Lies or truth? How could Farrin tell? He didn't even know what of this was real. Was he actually speaking with a self across the threaded ocean that wasn't entirely batshite crazy? Or was this some nightmare? That was one of the many problems attached to Chronokinesis. There was no telling if any of this was real or if his brain was just an absolute mess with all that speeding up and slowing down, all the damage he had taken.  

"What if they're all right ta' walk away? What if I'm just no' deservin' o' it? Any uv' it? What if I'm one'a the bad ones, somewhere deep down, rotten?"

"That's no' why they go. They go because they have their own journeys ta' trek, n' you have yours. We can spend all o' daylight together, but once the world slumbers n' eyes grow heavy, it's us against our demons. We don't have to love every step of the journey, but we must walk it no matter what comes our way," the Other said, his voice growing firmer, losing the intricate touches that made him- him. 

Was this the fate that awaited Farrin? Assuming it was all real, was he to fight some battle for all infinitum until it whittled his bones and hollowed his soul, leaving behind only some decrepit echo? 

"No. Things will be different this time. But you must firm your resolve. The dream is almost over now, and we dreamers must succeed. It is far from the lightest burden, but it is one you must carry for all of us. You can win. You will. I know it."  

[attr="class","FarrinLeft"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Symbol of Heroism [attr="class","fa fa-cog"]

[attr="class","FarrinQuote"]Even if it's already been decided. Even if it's set in stone. I'll smash that future!

[attr="class","FarrinBot"][attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Tags: @people here
[attr="class","fa fa-cog"] Notes: Write Notes Here

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