can you see what i see?
Aug. 19th, 2021 11:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
paradoxicalrenegademe: hey this opening scene is really great set-up for a soulmate au where you don't see colors until you see your soulmate for the first time
jade: mk i will pay you to write this
me, with a doc open already: i mean
anyway i have a lot of notes for this one and this isn't going to be the end of this by a long shot but: figured i'd give you this for now. love me some davey/theo. sorry did i say davey? i meant andreyes. sidenote: hey mab, we should talk about the fact that andreyes' cousin is definitely a rumrunner and diamond thief.
set in the same universe as arc 59 (1920s prohibition era) just, yknow, for context.
It happens too quickly, and yet the moment stretches into molasses.
Andreyes is looking out over the crowd of his father’s constituents, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. In the early afternoon air, buoyed by Father’s words, the people standing there are swaying like flowers in a field, but that doesn’t mean Andreyes won’t notice any out of place movement. There’s something that catches his eye, and his gaze flicks to it.
A person, lingering at the edge of the crowd, newsboy cap tipped up on their face, one hand caught in their suspenders. There’s something familiar about the look in their eyes… but Andreyes doesn’t have the time to marvel at the softness of their face before a chance moment of eye contact makes him freeze.
It starts… it starts with the dark marks like spilled ink on their skin, blooming into a shade Andreyes doesn’t know, and goes from there. The greys and blacks of his world to date shift, slowly then all at once, and he can only stand frozen as what can only be color blooms across the crowd and the afternoon.
Judging by the faintly shellshocked expression on the face of his soulmate, the same has just happened to them. Between one blink and the next, they’ve turned and fled across the field. Andreyes aches to call out to them, and almost does, propriety be damned; but Father is somehow still speaking. He can’t go leaping off the stage now, no matter how he wants to.
Eventually, Father finishes, and the crowd applauds, and Andreyes finally is able to give into the urge. “Christ—,” he hears from behind him, as he leaps down. “Fuck’s sakes, kid, give me a moment to keep up with you.”
It doesn’t matter an iota if Sol can keep up with him, but the point becomes moot when someone stops Andreyes and— well, he won’t be rude; these are his people, after all, and it does mean he can marvel at all the pigment in the world. Who knew there were so many shades of all these colors? But it means it takes him an age to make it through the crowd, Sol an ever present shadow at his back. When he reaches the other side, there’s just some workers loading up the carts, and no sign of the startled person with warm eyes.
“What’s got ya running off like the hounds of Hell are at your heels?” Sol asks, staring around.
Andreyes looks up at the sky then, where the clouds are just starting to filter across the sun. “So that’s blue,” he murmurs, and Sol goes still at his side.
“Mister Oriole—,”
“Miz Hawke, you know we don’t stand on such propriety when your sister and I are as close as we are.”
Sol rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of wonder in her eyes as she looks at him. “When did it happen?”
“Just before the end,” Andreyes says, scanning the crowd fruitlessly. “I saw them, Sol! And they ran from me. It can’t be so hard to find them.”
Sol sighs, rubbing her eyes with her hands. “Only you, kid,” she mutters, but Andreyes knows she’s a sucker for all this and has been ever since her sister turned thirteen and color bloomed across her vision with no warning. “A’right, what did they look like. We can split up. Obviously I’m no you, but I can give them your card.”
Andreyes isn’t listening. The figure that’s just hopped out of the cart across the street has such familiar marks it almost takes his breath away. “That’s them,” he says, pointing, and dashes across the street without so much as a by-your-leave.
jade: mk i will pay you to write this
me, with a doc open already: i mean
anyway i have a lot of notes for this one and this isn't going to be the end of this by a long shot but: figured i'd give you this for now. love me some davey/theo. sorry did i say davey? i meant andreyes. sidenote: hey mab, we should talk about the fact that andreyes' cousin is definitely a rumrunner and diamond thief.
set in the same universe as arc 59 (1920s prohibition era) just, yknow, for context.
It happens too quickly, and yet the moment stretches into molasses.
Andreyes is looking out over the crowd of his father’s constituents, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. In the early afternoon air, buoyed by Father’s words, the people standing there are swaying like flowers in a field, but that doesn’t mean Andreyes won’t notice any out of place movement. There’s something that catches his eye, and his gaze flicks to it.
A person, lingering at the edge of the crowd, newsboy cap tipped up on their face, one hand caught in their suspenders. There’s something familiar about the look in their eyes… but Andreyes doesn’t have the time to marvel at the softness of their face before a chance moment of eye contact makes him freeze.
It starts… it starts with the dark marks like spilled ink on their skin, blooming into a shade Andreyes doesn’t know, and goes from there. The greys and blacks of his world to date shift, slowly then all at once, and he can only stand frozen as what can only be color blooms across the crowd and the afternoon.
Judging by the faintly shellshocked expression on the face of his soulmate, the same has just happened to them. Between one blink and the next, they’ve turned and fled across the field. Andreyes aches to call out to them, and almost does, propriety be damned; but Father is somehow still speaking. He can’t go leaping off the stage now, no matter how he wants to.
Eventually, Father finishes, and the crowd applauds, and Andreyes finally is able to give into the urge. “Christ—,” he hears from behind him, as he leaps down. “Fuck’s sakes, kid, give me a moment to keep up with you.”
It doesn’t matter an iota if Sol can keep up with him, but the point becomes moot when someone stops Andreyes and— well, he won’t be rude; these are his people, after all, and it does mean he can marvel at all the pigment in the world. Who knew there were so many shades of all these colors? But it means it takes him an age to make it through the crowd, Sol an ever present shadow at his back. When he reaches the other side, there’s just some workers loading up the carts, and no sign of the startled person with warm eyes.
“What’s got ya running off like the hounds of Hell are at your heels?” Sol asks, staring around.
Andreyes looks up at the sky then, where the clouds are just starting to filter across the sun. “So that’s blue,” he murmurs, and Sol goes still at his side.
“Mister Oriole—,”
“Miz Hawke, you know we don’t stand on such propriety when your sister and I are as close as we are.”
Sol rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of wonder in her eyes as she looks at him. “When did it happen?”
“Just before the end,” Andreyes says, scanning the crowd fruitlessly. “I saw them, Sol! And they ran from me. It can’t be so hard to find them.”
Sol sighs, rubbing her eyes with her hands. “Only you, kid,” she mutters, but Andreyes knows she’s a sucker for all this and has been ever since her sister turned thirteen and color bloomed across her vision with no warning. “A’right, what did they look like. We can split up. Obviously I’m no you, but I can give them your card.”
Andreyes isn’t listening. The figure that’s just hopped out of the cart across the street has such familiar marks it almost takes his breath away. “That’s them,” he says, pointing, and dashes across the street without so much as a by-your-leave.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-19 03:54 pm (UTC)2) sol being a sucker for romance and soulmate shit but only like three people know is CHEF'S KISS
3) I am savoring this sooooo much so tasty just wraps myself up in it