[ and it all boils down to the same old thing ] Rutilus.

I'd pray to God if there was Heaven
But Heaven seems so very far from here




Sometimes he wonders where he got the gun from. At first he considers that somebody he knew might have given it to him, for protection, but why would he ever need a gun to defend himself? Maybe it was his old best friend, smart silver fish that she was. Maybe it was the shifter of souls, whose grave he sometimes sits by in the forest.

It's a black pistol, nothing special. It almost looks fake - as if it's just a toy, a plaything. But in the past few years he's been so very tempted to use it, on numerous occassions. On friends. On past loves. On failed conquests. On enemies. Even on himself. Stupid, really. Such a sunny character, darkened by clouds and rain so torrential that it threatened him with a pistol to the head.

He thinks himself foolish for even considering suicide, but for a long time, it seemed like a good option. He's never been the self-harming type, nothing like that - that's the soul shifter's job, isn't it? Not his. But when he was beaten, when he was broken, when nothing mattered anymore - those were the blackest days of his life thus far. And he hated them.

This year, he hasn't really had those thoughts, but he hasn't been the happiest either. Lately he's been lonely. He goes out in the street and he sees people all around him. Friends, laughing and joking; Rutilus doesn't have many friends anymore, because they've all left, or moved on. Families, supporting eachother in everyday life; Rutilus feels his siblings splitting away from him day by day. His sister isn't who she used to be, just a dull shell. And his brother - he's moving up in life. He's finding new friends and he's got a great job. Rutilus works in a music store, lives alone, eats pickled noodles every day to keep himself alive. And then, in the street, the restaurant, the cafe, the music store, the clothes store - the couples. They're everywhere. And he doesn't have anyone like that.

So he goes into the forest instead to try and escape - to come back to a place where he can relax with anybody without fear of judgement. Instead he realises he's afraid of the world. He feels awkward and he acts it, too. He sniffs and circles for lack of anything to do - like he's forgotten how to read body language. And then the second he's on the verge of getting involved, making a friend? He leaves. He sits down and vanishes. Or runs away.

He sees deer sitting or playing together and he gets nervous. It's alright if there's a crowd - he can fit into a crowd. He sees the damn Skull Parade everywhere he goes and hates them. And then - when he's in a crowd of his own, and they all sit down to rest...he's left without somebody to sit close to. He doesn't know how to deal with it anymore, so he sits extra far away and watches them instead.

Then when he approaches the only deer he feels he still knows - Gehirn, Herla, Virgil - he realises just how awkward and insecure he can be. He feels tense around the golden one. He feels embarrassed around the beautiful one. And he feels uneasy around the dark one. Why?

He doesn't know anymore. Maybe it's because he thinks he knows things. He feels like he's intruding, like he shouldn't be there, no matter how many times they tell him he's welcome with them. He doesn't want to sit too close to anyone for fear of feeling them moving away, or making them all uncomfortable. He's been lonely lately, that's for sure. Just wants somebody that he can cuddle into. Everyone else has one.

Rutilus turns the gun over in long-fingered hands and shakes his head. Why hasn't he been found out for having it? Why isn't he in prison? He puts it back in the drawer, and gets up. Walks into that tiny, damp livingroom and then cringes at the sight of all the beer cans on the floor. Rutilus isn't allowed to drink anymore. Not since last time things went wrong.

It's always the damn same.

God you're amazing ♥

God you're amazing ♥

No you |: ♥ get offa

No you |: ♥ get offa my cloud blog

WHAT I WAS HAVING A PRIVATE

WHAT I WAS HAVING A PRIVATE CONVERSATION WITH GOD?!
Hart's picture

Silly guy, we'll have to get

Silly guy, we'll have to get him drunk on over-ripe blueberries sometime, that'll teach him to have fun again! Laughing out loud
GingerNut's picture

I really need to learn more

I really need to learn more about Rut... Such a damn interesting bloke c':

Vee; SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN |:

Vee; SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN |: except he's not allowed to get drunk dammit!

Gingy; wry thankyou c': He's my favourite character by far...which is probably why he's still here D8"
Hart's picture

Says who!? Rules are made to

Says who!? Sticking out tongue Rules are made to be broken! <3
Mr.Sanguine's picture

nnn &hearts; I wish I had a

nnn


I wish I had a coherent comment, your writing is always gorgeous.
Mis's picture

Poor guy 8( Oh Rut, if we

Poor guy 8( Oh Rut, if we could only explain to you you're always welcome around. Pff.
Anyway. I love your writing, always will. But I did enjoy reading letters to the failings too, as it's so authenticly written. Like, you can read it's Rutilus talking. You start to get a voice in your head. I do love this writing too! But yeah. It both has it's charm XD

LOLVee :'D Thanks,

LOLVee :'D

Thanks, Mr.Sanguine ;w; <3

Miiiis~ He'll get it one day LOL |D He's just an awkward guy.
I prefer 'letters to the failings' because of what you said c: I love writing as Rutilus rather than just about him. Makes it a lot more interesting, I feel~ Buuuut thankyou sfkjdhfd -nomnom-