Summary: Worthy of confidence;trustworthy. Thoroughly; complete. Having a firm basis; unshakeable. Deep and unbroken. AU!
A/N: I swear I will come up with a better summary later. Anyway, hello to you good reader! Well, this idea has been haunting me night after night ("Write me,Hobo. Write me and allow me to add fuel to your burning obsession." "ohmygod FINE! NOW SHUT UP AND LET ME SLEEP!").As the summary states this is an AU since I wanted to tweak with the plot a bit *coughwhyjustinwhycough*. I truly love all forms of Soul Eater, especially since the plot makes a wonderful foundation for AU fanfics. So many "what ifs". So, here is my attempt to take a shot at it (though I possess terrible aim). I plan on mixing both the Anime and the Manga,but with twists of my own. This was immensely fun to write and I do hope you enjoy it. :)
Warnings: always beware my horrid grammar, violence, foul language (blame Giriko), suggestive themes (thank you Blair), character death,and...OCs...lots of 'em
Disclaimer: Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Okubo. The first two sentences of this fanfiction are lines from a sonnet written by William Shakespeare.
Prologue:
What is your substance? Whereof are you made? I suspect those words have been spoken before me, than this artisan of poetry must have glimpsed you upon your hearth before comparing the essence of your lullaby to that of beatific sirens, only that you lack their malevolence and and have instead embraced the benevolence of saints. That is your substance; a divinity of gods. You clasp no fear within your breast, one that Reapers are still bound to by mere instinct, and thus have remained untainted and sound through even dismal eras. You truly are divine; a goddess who is absent of of the delusion of thought which remains a curse among Eight. Are you aware of those whom worship you? Dare I say I am among them? Who am I to be graced with such a figment of this beauteous valkyrie?
"Please.. I am afraid I must stop you."
"I see.. I admit, I am no poet; not even remotely-"
"Do not appear so distraught yet. I acknowledge your affectionate words, even if it is apparent that you struggled in their formation."
"I see you jest! I am relieved that my goddess is light of heart."
"I do wish we drop our prose. Your humor will not change my answer."
"But around you I cannot help but be humorous. You grace me with a sort of jubilance- wait, your answer?"
"I know your sense exceeds most,though you may choose to ignore it. I expect your prediction was accurate?"
"I-your expectation of my sense is too much so."
"I suppose. Your poetry may flatter one but ultimately mocks another."
"Mocks? Enlighten me my goddess."
"That growl does not suit you. You would abandon another, one who is in need of you more than I, for one who is already being courted by-"
"Tis true then."
"I do not see how there was room for doubt. Do you not realize that what courtship entails?...You are not answering me."
"I-I do not need this lecture."
"Do you? Do not tell me you are blind. He adores you. He values your companionship above all else."
"He is my friend."
"Yes, and he utterly relies on you. You were.. the first to cure him."
"You are wrong! He grows distant above all else! How could you say that I have 'cured' him?"
"So you are blind."
"What hypocrisy!"
"I suppose it is time for you to enlighten me then. What in Death's name is going through your head?"
"I cannot keep going on like this! He is beyond whatever help I can provide him!"
"That does nothing to shed light on the matter. How? Tell me how."
"Do you not see him? Do you not hear him? Fear knows no boundaries with him! Of course, that is beyond your experience."
"How dare you use a gentle voice to cloak malice! By the gods, do you speak that way to him?"
"I was blunt, my goddess, but even I struggle to understand what he feels. But I know that each hour I lose him. To what? Fear? I do not know anymore...You are silent, my goddess. Can you sense it? If there is no aid, there is no hope for him. What plagues him is beyond my comprehension and my patience! I tire of this madness!"
Madness?
Is that freedom's prenomen now?
How long has it been so? How long and how many consider it an ailment? When has their eyes been masked? Who has placed the shroud above them?
Look upon your morals and claim me mad.
It is thanks to you that I am.
No! I know this shroud that they dawn above their fragile layers! It pulses and breathes beneath an irregular beat! Can't you hear it? Can you not hear it beneath your mortal constraints? See how it binds and weaves your liquid into palatinate rivers! See how freely rivers shred!
How long have I been here?
The temporal figment that remains imprisoned along side me has far exceeded the past. No,how is that accurate? A guess is so infinite when the foundation has been flayed from you.
Flayed.
How poisoned is my tongue when that slips past its guard! Poison! That is what pulses throughout me! That is blood's sour substitution! Why does this poison give me infinity? Why does it not approach an end? I cannot even fathom a beginning and yet I dream the same dream over a fanatical cycle which I cannot conceive when I so desperately search for my own temporal foundation which has been flayed from me! And why is it that I dream with sealed lids though I know sleep is a realm I will never cross? I am terrified, too much so, to dream and yet when I unbar these lids to ignite a world before me I wake within a world of nothing! A death beyond death! Am I shouting, dear deathly father? Because I live within a nothingness that does not grace me with sound! I want to close my eyes again and dream! I want to dream and not be enslaved by nightmares and recollection! Those whispers that plague me cannot be sound! Sound would be his laughter! Sound would be his embrace! YOU TOOK THAT FROM ME!
A sound soul dwells within a sound mind and a sound body.
What? What say you? Who calms my beat? Who is this voice that carries a harp but hums like a bass?
I can hear you.
This madman's prison was a silent one. The scarlet beams that served its spine knew that the marks of strength could not sway them; and yet their architect knew they would never be strong enough. The meticulous stones of its skin would tear under its fear as its metal sinew that draped from the spine, five total successions of linked iron, would provide the final barrier. An act of desperation as it were, but they were the core. The listless sphere that they encased could be bent and manipulated with its master's ease, but with its sinews intact, the stagnant air of this stagnant prison remained, without a souls' care, stagnant.
A breath was enough of a deterrent. Stagnant air was sour air, and sour air towed along a ravine of bitter regrets and a quiet rage that bore into the depths of these stone walls. A room that was swallowed in its own misery; fitting of its prisoner and its architect.
Both of which were locked within an immutable stasis.
A breath was taken-
-and the chains shuddered.
How long have I been here?