The Cluster - Tumblr Posts

Once there was a greedy old man who wanted power more than anything, there was something else he wanted but he couldn’t get it with money at all and which made it “difficult” for him. He wanted someone to teach his methods to, Someone to spread his legacy with a bloody red R. He first used a beautiful rose and a magenta buddleia but they weren’t enough for him. Together they were strong but weren’t strong as he wanted to be. They failed him far too many times. He ignored the buddleia and her pleads as well as the handsome rose and left them behind locked up and beheaded Meowth their beloved cat and partner. Later on he found another pretty flower, a pink water lily. She was strong as her two legendary companions and passionate with her work, so he simply plucked her away from them and began to work. His scientists worked and worked to give him the perfect heiress, it was difficult because of how she fought but with a few clips of her petals and she was new. She succeeded at first as her once colorful spirit in her petals slowly died out but she failed her final test so she was locked up with the others, never to go back home again. He was angry, he had succeeded before, why was he failing now he thought. He research and looked over everything until a few colors caught his eye. Red, Bue, and Purple would race his mind. Red, Blue, Red, Purple swirled in his mind like an epiphany. A legend, another Legend, and a determined one to be a legend. The two were strong, the third wasn’t as strong but he had determination to be as strong. He went to his basement to see the others, instead of hushing their shouts and cries of pain he listened only to the water lily like a song, a song he could try to play. One day he went out and played the familiar song to them from a far, each captivated by the familiar call causing them to go into the grasp of the darkness. They were trapped and he knew it, he got them, it was hard with how hard the fought and screamed but he did it, the Pokémon were confiscated and trapped as well but far from their trainers. He finally did it he was going to make the perfect heir and the perfect weapon, it was going to be beautiful, he could just see his future now. The strong figure ruling over under his power, it was so beautiful to him.

When I woke up, I was “beautiful”. I was sore and felt like throwing my guts out at both my feelings and the sight of me. I could still hear there cries and their screams of pain. I could hear there voices in my head screaming at him about what he did to them.

I felt their memories and vibrations of their voices bubbling in my head to the point I felt it was going to burst. I could feel all their tears on my face as I processed every thing when I woke up. As I was trained, a new mind formed with their’s, giving me my own voice in a way slowly but I was yet to fully have my voice because it was taken away from me over and over again. He took away our Freedom, He took away our legacy, and He took us from our families and friends. He took our voices to make a new one. Blue, Silver, Red, The trainers in my head. The ones who guided me to lead him into a false sense of security. We worked together with the others and killed them all dead, they took us from our families so we took them from theirs.

Lavender, Magenta, Purple, Blue, Red, and Green were the last colors they all have seen before going into a deep and permanent sleep. He was the the last one left, and he was dead. But we had no where to go so we made the fucked up facility our home and the Pokéball our beds.

There are unbroken gems.

There are gems so deeply healed, it’s as if they were remade.

There was an effort.

There was a long, organized campaign, that had the cluster being pulled apart piece by piece.

There is the cluster. There was the cluster.

There is the time countless broken pieces learned to see each other.

There was love in that hell.

So many of those gems are whole again in era 3, whole like they yearned to be for all those thousand of years they spent imprisoned, and the one they spent close to content.

So many of those gems are whole now, but still… they almost remember.

They remember when they glimpse eyes they’ve never seen in their reflection; when they hum songs sang in voices they’ve never heard; when they take a step, and imagine a dance they never got—never gave—for all the twisting, synchronized strands of a limb that tried to make up for it.

There are unbroken gems that cross paths in the midst of their liberation, and they recognize themselves in each other.

There are unbroken gems that find each other again, and carry on a little less broken.

9 DAYS OF SENSE8

Day 9: The Cluster - And so I wake in the morning and I step outside. And I take a deep breath and I get real high, and I scream from the top of my lungs “What’s going on?”