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"It's a girl!" the obstetrician said, holding the small, bloody infant up.
Cloud gasped in relief, tears of pain still running down his cheeks. Sephiroth was staring at the small creature the doctor was gently drying off and wrapping in a blanket. That was that was his child? He'd been expecting it, looking forward to it for so long he honestly did not know how to feel now that he saw it for the first time. His child. His baby. Surely he was supposed to find it overwhelming and beautiful, not a little bit unsettling and strange-looking.
"Oh, wow, she's got so much hair!" one of the nurses cooed. She took the swaddled baby and handed it to Sephiroth, "Congratulations!"
Sephiroth took the baby automatically, looking down at it with a mixture of feelings that he still wasn't sure how he felt about. The newborn blinked unfocused blue eyes at him. Blue, slit-pupil'd eyes.
She had his eyes. Oh, they were Cloud's in color, but other than that bright blue, they were exactly l
PC: Drawing From LifeDrawing From Life.
"Which story do you want me to tell you tonight, Nami?" A 20 something man asked the little girl. His back was pressed against his daughter's bed rest, her tiny stature in his lap. Cloud waited in silence as the six year old etched out a simple drawing onto her new sketchpad in front of her. Having always been a quiet child, Naminé had taken up drawing rather than speakingthe same could not be said of her elder brother Sora thoughthe youngster clearly talented beyond her years.
His concentration was broke at the slight tug on his sleeve. Big blue, almost sad eyes, looked up at him, her free hand point to the sketch. Tilting his head slightly he made out various stars, a planet with six rings, and a pirate ship. He grinned, knowing that the story chosen was one of her favorite tales: The Star Pirates and the Jewels of Blackheart Moon.
"Again?" She nodded several times, each time pushing the picture to closer and closer to him. Stopping her by placing
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More