☽ Hᴏᴩᴇ﹠Hᴇᴀʀᴛ ☾ · @seabiirds
4th Aug 2019 from TweetCaster
Jem bares their teeth as they're thrown back into the specially-made container, chains rattling deafeningly to their delicate ears. They were angry. They were captured AGAIN by Alina. And they had spent so long removing the collar alone, only for her to put a new one on them. With their melting eye, each drop of biomatter sent a painful shock that forced them immobile.
The light hurt.
And when they went on stage, when they tried to speak anything other than a story, Jem's breath caught from the pain of lights burning down on them.
Still they tried. Tried and tried until their stories turned… harsh. It was one more night before leaving that Jem had to tell a story.
One more night for Jem to piss her off so badly that there was a chance at a fair fight.
Hate burned in their eyes. Hate And Vengeance. Something not so kind, something not so merciful.
Jem was going to tell a story alright.
As the curtains lifted, as Jem's chains were dismissed and as deadly blades forced them out on stage, Jem felt a smile pulling at their black stained lips. A mean, cruel, venomous smile, eyes widening ever so slightly even as UV light glared down on them.
"Welcome one and all, listeners and audience members, to the Catching Fire Circus! My name is Jem, and I will not only be your Storyteller, but your Truth for the evening. Don't blink. Don't breathe. And whatever you do?" Jem's pointed, furious grin broadened, and shadows leapt to life, creeping in from the edge of the ring toward their stage. "Don't get up from your seats."
Few would realise their shadows actually pinning them to their seats, none would realise it meant they couldn't possibly run away were things to get dicey. And they would.
Jem had talked to others in secret. Morse Code was a talent required here. And, well, they had set things up. The firedancer burned part of the sand, the contortionist left parts of a splintered box about, the dancers left delicate, thin lines in the sand. Jem stood in the middle, and a tangible, thick darkness consumed the entire tent.
Jem was quick. They bit their palm deeply, hard enough for their glowing blood to pool in their hand in seconds, and they'd make a fist to conceal it. But the darkness eased as they outstretched their hand, tilting it to allow it to fill the small grooves in the sand. A pattern slowly, slowly formed, and Jem's eyes glowed brightly through it all.
"This is the story of the Caverna — the story of MY people. Things were different when I was a child. I was not special. Another Speaker of the clan, nothing more, but I wouldn't know it yet."
The way Jem set the stage, it was too perfect. Their travelling blood formed the roads, and they'd spring thousands of smaller forms, other Caverna, walking and meandering and swimming and climbing through a massive network of what was easily seen as caves. One glowing form was small, energetic, and it was so obviously Jem.
"The caves where I was born, they were ancient. Believed to be the first settlement surviving on its own with no help from other clans. And they were beautiful, audience. The walls shone with sapphire and topaz and lapis, the water was so clear you hardly noticed it, the walkways so smooth even the clumsiest of us couldn't trip. And what we all were was more than a clan. We were family."
The scene would shift, as would Jem, letting their blood fall into a new series of grooves in the sand. These were more spaced out, and the figures all gathered in what seemed to be a large, main core cave. The little one that represented them, it bounced on the edges, near a cave entrance.
"On the most recent day in the caves, our Chief was going to speak to us all. Some of us were going to be Chosen to help them, as there are many of us sharing many roles throughout a clan. I was one of many Speakers, and as I was about to become an adult, I was eager to be Chosen for an important role. The clan gathered. I could scarcely see the Chief, in the center."
The little glowing figure jumped and skirted from the edge of the cave entrance, and faintly, a slightly smaller whitish glowing form wandered behind Jem.
"But it was fortuitous! For something only One in our clan could know of was bound to happen. And while she could not prevent it, she could save… /one/ more than herself. What she knew was something nobody could. Our caves were… doomed to collapse. And who did our Seer of Istus save? She did not choose her mate, listeners. She did not choose her Chief, listeners."
The small figure would encircle Jem's tiny form as the last of their blood in this section met up with the first sections, where it already sank into the sand and dimmed its glow. Both figures would reel back from the entrance, and both would be brought straight to what could be assumed as the surface.
"She chose /me./ A Speaker. Not a Leader, not a Lover. Someone so simple. So /unremarkable./ And she disappeared like a ghost in the night just when the earth s c r e a m e d."
This one did require an actual spell. Jem's undamaged hand wove a few sigils into the air, and quickly they'd forced a space between the blood-filled grooves to buckle and collapse into itself. Subtly, they completed the rest of what only a very observant viewer would see as a magical circle.
And they'd turn, though they felt a little lightheaded by now they'd continue, voice still carrying on strong.
"The caves died, listeners. My clan was extinct. I had no family. I had no friends. No Leader of any sort. I was scared and alone until our… beloved Ringmaster found me." The fiery red form would enter from the shadows, scooping up Jem's scared little form like a child and carrying them with a motherly warmth. "She comforted me, cared for me, fed me, taught me. And when the time came for me to perform for the first time?"
The box would spring up, except it was no box. It was every wall of the tent, panelled with Jem's arcane shadows, their internal glow channelled through every single one. Jem's eyes burned with fury, and the final third of the circle was complete.
"She threw me in a box of sunlight and called it 'love,' listeners. Sunlight, which burns me alive until I fear every inch of movement for how much pain it causes. Not harmful enough to kill, but enough to make any death bring mercy and relief. Enough for death to feel like the best option. She threw me in there," Jem's voice contorted as new forms sprung up, again and again being tossed into this box, this room, thousands of times over, "For TEN YEARS. EVERY night performing a story like a mindless PUPPET for HER," There was anger. Rage. Suffering, pain, regret, heartache, fear. Emotions that Jem latched onto quickly. They felt fire creeping under their skin. It was working.
"And do you know what, listeners?"
'What?' A small voice piped up from the front row, and all five of Jem's eyes fell on the source. Sympathy, kindness, warmth, even love briefly fell in Jem's heart. Darkness crept over their eyes, along with the eyes of any other children, and Jem's smile was, briefly, serene.
"Cover your eyes, audience, if you wish. Children should not see the monster I am about to make. It will strike the truest terror into your heaRT—"
Jem staggered slightly, feeling their heart twist, stutter unnaturally. Arcane magic flooding into their veins, but they'd kneel, take a deep breath and flash a pointed grin at the crowd.
"That is… If you live to tell the tale of the Blue Nightmare."
Jem's body convulsed, then fell limp as a jittering, crackling form ejected from their body, blue glow emanating and five eyes burning. Intense. Briefly, there is a white-toothed smile on its face, before the entire room falls into night.