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theblueintheday2015-10-09 10:40 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in theblueintheday2015-10-09 10:40 pm
Entry tags:
[team sonic] on fire
First words from Jongdae to the rescue.
Title from Wicked Game by Emika.
Defend the weak, he reminds himself. Protect the innocent. The wind ruffles through his hair, tugging the red strands out of his hair tie and streaming them like ribbons, strips of scattered flags across his vision, like the tattered flags marking the remains of the fort they'd come across in the snow, red tracking over the ground in the shape of hooves, bare footprints bleeding.
"You stand watch," Yixuan had said, leaving Yibo to mind the gate as he'd rode further into the village, the smell of burning still thick in the air. And Yibo is standing here, keeping his eyes trained on the edge of the forest, the leaves that still hand red from the branches, the way the trees do here, instead of falling with the other plants, buried under thick blankets of snow. The wind rustles through the branches, knocks a few leaves from their desiccated stems, and Yibo watches them drift past, so many edges and sharp points that look like if they caught on your skin, you'd bleed.
Yibo ducks, and in that moment he feels the sharp rushing of air over his ear, a shift in the wind and a twanging sound as something embeds itself, vibrating, in the wood behind him. Yibo doesn't need to look behind him to see it's an arrow. Yixuan is in the village and Yibo only has his sword and bow and small quiver of arrows but this is his job, he's been trained for this.
It's more muscle memory than thought that has the bow, strung and arrow notched ready in his hand as he narrows his eyes and tastes the air. There's a flicker, a shifting in the pattern of shadows but that's all it takes for him to aim, arrow arching out into the forest.
There's only a muffled sound, like a body falling on snow, but Yibo knows he hit home. When Yixuan comes out, he'll be able to tell him he did his job. Yibo smiles, though he's stil on alert, and waits for Yixuan to come back.
Title from Wicked Game by Emika.
Defend the weak, he reminds himself. Protect the innocent. The wind ruffles through his hair, tugging the red strands out of his hair tie and streaming them like ribbons, strips of scattered flags across his vision, like the tattered flags marking the remains of the fort they'd come across in the snow, red tracking over the ground in the shape of hooves, bare footprints bleeding.
"You stand watch," Yixuan had said, leaving Yibo to mind the gate as he'd rode further into the village, the smell of burning still thick in the air. And Yibo is standing here, keeping his eyes trained on the edge of the forest, the leaves that still hand red from the branches, the way the trees do here, instead of falling with the other plants, buried under thick blankets of snow. The wind rustles through the branches, knocks a few leaves from their desiccated stems, and Yibo watches them drift past, so many edges and sharp points that look like if they caught on your skin, you'd bleed.
Yibo ducks, and in that moment he feels the sharp rushing of air over his ear, a shift in the wind and a twanging sound as something embeds itself, vibrating, in the wood behind him. Yibo doesn't need to look behind him to see it's an arrow. Yixuan is in the village and Yibo only has his sword and bow and small quiver of arrows but this is his job, he's been trained for this.
It's more muscle memory than thought that has the bow, strung and arrow notched ready in his hand as he narrows his eyes and tastes the air. There's a flicker, a shifting in the pattern of shadows but that's all it takes for him to aim, arrow arching out into the forest.
There's only a muffled sound, like a body falling on snow, but Yibo knows he hit home. When Yixuan comes out, he'll be able to tell him he did his job. Yibo smiles, though he's stil on alert, and waits for Yixuan to come back.