Imagine there's no Heaven.

[Crimson]

Oh the drama.

She couldn't help but giggle softly as her legs stopped her from falling out the gilded windows while she leaned out with her back pressed against the cold outside wall of the castle and her hand over her head in a melodramatic pose. Black hair falling down beneath her while being toyed with the wind, the thick resilience not really putting up a fight, every breeze just creating another twisted knot in this shining mass, knee length black dress covering up nicely. And those crimson eyes staring out to catch another glimmer of another star.

"And no Hell beneath our feet. Yeah..."

The way her voice was carried out in the monotonous pitch and in the natural sounding tone, it could be argumentable on how it could be considered to talking to one's self. But that was okay, she lost count on the thirteenth star as she felt her legs somewhat giving way off the window's ledge, but they still held their steadfast and she didn't worry about falling, she wouldn't fall, her narcissism told her that, so did the sky.

Azure hues darkened to look black tried to fool her eyes as she gazed everywhere her vision could reach, most of it was shrouded beneath the shelter of shadows, but she could see them perfectly clear, there wasn't much of a choice.

No one could fall up. And the way this little girl saw things, the soil was up, and the clouds were down.

"Looking down from a hotel room, nightfall will be coming soon. You got to put on that party dress."

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. It seemed like nonsense. It sounded like nonsense. Crimson looked like nonsense.

[Jade Cross]

Jade was depressed. Her green flip flop was no where to be found, many of her good friends had left, the new students were giving her a headache, and all through this she felt this damnable yearning for the Forest. Damn Emera. Damn her blasted moods. Damn everything.

Sighing as she mounted the tower steps' curvature, she slid her shoulder along the damp stone wall, taking each step with a lethargic miniscule effort, as if her boots weighed the size of a small pony. Damn boots. Emera had always worn boots. Jade had always not. And guess who won in the metaphysical fight over fashion?

When she reached the tower's door, she was greeted with a blast of wind, though harsh and slightly grating, it soothed Jade's bothered mind. Wipping away most of the aggravation that had wrinkled her usually spotless, esoterical humor. The Eagle Prefect stopped at the wall overlooking the grounds, taking in a large breath, letting the cool air sooth her lungs. It was beautiful, really. It all was. The shimmer of the stars' reflection off the surface of the lake... it was like a faerie spell. Both surreal and tangible, as if you could reach out and wipe it, pricking your finger on a star...

The realization of who she had joined under the dotted sky seeped in steadily, not surprising her one bit. It should of, but Crimson's being there, well... it just didn't. Almost as if she had been there all along.

"Tie up your hair in a pretty little string, and let the star lights dance."

[Crimson]

"And the boys upstairs just don’t understand anymore, well the top brass don’t like him talking so much,
and he won’t play what they say to play. And he don’t want to change what don’t need to change."

Crimson said outloud in response to whoever vocalized what they did, but it couldn't really be called a response as her carefully chosen words weren't relevant in any logical sense. The night biosphere didn't seem to mind, and as she pulled herself up into a sitting right position on the windowsill, she looked over the expression on the girl's face, relief. Or if it wasn't that, it sure was something like it, whether it was the time of day that made the girl feel that way, or whether it was Crimson herself, she didn't think much of it. Instead, she levitated the balances of good and bad at the moment, she wanted company, she wanted space, she wanted some candy too.

She methodically smoothed out the pleits of her dress, placing them in order only out of habitual actions, she gave a two finger salute in military fashion as she sat on her folded cloak. Though fully aware she carried nothing but coloured ribbons and threads in her adorned pockets, she ran her hands over the pockets in a valiant search and pointless search for those sweetened tastes, and just like magic, they of course weren't there.

"And there goes your freedom of choice. There goes the last human voice."

Impulse.

[Jade Cross]

'And there goes your freedom of choice...'

That struck a strange chord on the strings of the harp of her soul. Or rather their soul, considering that Jade Cross now knew that she no longer owned one single, sure thing in the world. She shared a body, she shared a soul... almost like a profitless prostitution. A shame had alienated the modern Jade Cross, a foreign feeling that left her impersonal and reticent, unless of course she was cursing over the latest lower classmen that pushed her wrong buttons.

The simple senselessness that was as airy as the ambience was relief. Could it be called relief? Was that really what she wanted to call it? Well, sure, why the hell not. Not too much matter when you couldn't really think for yourself without having a second voice on the matter. Emera was silent.

"Flittering beyond the sun crusted rough where they play where they say don't play and fly behind the twisted nerve."

The hapless girl wandered closer to the wall where Crimson sat. Leaning against the wall, she crossed her linen clad arms and looked up at the sharp, pointy sky.

"Echo, they cry, echo me sweetly. Hear my withering song."

Holding up hand worldlessly, a large lollipop appeared with a puff.

[Crimson]

"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one."

Reaching out she took the lollipop from Jade with both hands, all she needed were chubby little fingers caked in mud and other sticky blobs from wherever children acquired them from. Opening her mouth slightly she dragged the left fang across the sweet-tasting surface, not to intimidate, not to show off, but only to scrape off little scraps from the surface blue. Swishing her tongue around she felt it slowly melt, those candied shavings.

Letting her tongue flick at the blueberry flavoured candy, she held it in her mouth while her hands drew out assorted coloured ribbons, varying from white to black, and from black to blue, she put them in order. It didn't go by the colours of the rainbow, but she seemed to know what she was doing.

"Imagine all the people living life this way."

She felt the lollipop breaking in half inside her mouth and in between her teeth, chewing somewhat noisily she took the lollipop stick and pocketed it. Of course she could've just thrown it out the window like anybody else with common sense would have, but she didn't like to throw away things, even if they were gummy and damp, it wasn't nice to throw away something someone gave you was it? Crimson said nothing as she finally put a stop to her rearranging of the silk ribbons, sticking out her tongue she caught a glimpse of the blue tinge to it from the candy, not really thinking about how silly she looked, she picked two colours.

"Will you sing me their song?"

Crimson referred to Jade's last reply, and she meant it.

Two colours.

Holding up one blue and one purple, she began to braid Jade's black hair as she weaved the ribbons in and out.

[Jade Cross]

The black haired girl closed her eyes as she felt the vampiress's cool fingers work through her long hair, gently brushing the snarls that the wind had managed to tease into.

"Whistle me softly... weave me gently... into the ache of night.

Let alone the pale visage of the handsome breath upon your lips and embrace the longing that steals your essence.

Whistle me trully... weave me kindly... into the ache of night..."

Jade stopped. She wasn't even sure if she had been singing or if had all been in her mind, but that was the effect of the song. It had no words or tune or melody and immediately it was forgotten. But in the air, music could be heard, surreal and hypnotic, weaving about them as seductively as a silken ribbon, slithering across a bare shoulder, a bare stomach. Shivers were granted to her pale skin and pricked her flesh, but she did not shudder.

"Prodigy. Did you know that the word prodigy is a synonym for a monster?"

[Crimson]

"No, no I didn't."

Wait.

A civil conversation.

Finishing up the braid Crimson tightened the ribbons at the end into one bow. The purple and blue entwining together, they made a soft pastel look and Crimson pondered over the curious lore on why exactly she had chosen the colours.

"You know, I never saw the purple in a rainbow."

[Jade Cross]

The fleeting flicker of color that whipped at the corners of her eyes revealed to Jade which ribbons Crimson had drawn. Blue and Purple. Old and new. Destruction and life. Emera and Jade. The symbolism of the ribbons the vampiress had braided into her hair was not lost on the young Prefect.

"Oh, it's there... but you have to look closely... the blue tends to obscure it."

Jade remained where she was, too apathetic to really move anything but her lungs and heart, yet they were mechanical, so they didn't really count.

"Emera remembers you. A long time ago." Jade said softly as she thought of those hard, sapphire-like eyes that belonged to the ancient warrior. Having the memories of Emera had disturbed her for quite some time, it could be described as looking into a shallow brook and seeing the memories float by, while at the same time, your reflection was staring back at you. Presently, Jade closed her eyes and dove into the brook, surfacing the Crimson that Emera once knew. "You were younger then." Her remark didn't necessarily mean her age, for not even Emera knew that, and she had the strangest notion that perhaps Crimson herself didn't know either.

[Crimson]

Yes. Younger.

It wasn't the age, it was the morals Crimson had set. The walking contradiction she had first made, she believed she could befriend humans, and she believed she should use her powers to their fullest extent. Some nights went one way, other nights, when in the other direction, and she didn't really know what drove those two things separate. Humans weren't just something to feast upon, humans held so many emotions, humans, human, humans, people. Then the change would happen.

Newfound power, being able to be 'invincible', she could run faster than them, she was stronger than them, she was higher on that invisible pedastool. And they should bow down to her.

They started to blend, then separate, then at times she would forget about her thoughts totally, where was she now? She didn't really know. But looking straight at Jade, she sat down Indian style and gazed into Jade's eyes. There were flickerings, she looked once, and there were those Indigo eyes, she looked twice, and then there were blue.

Once upon a time, and now they were two.

"What are you doing inside her."

The tone of her voice didn't sound like a question, it sounded like a statement. But it was a question. Did it really matter to Crimson?

Curious. Simply curious.

[Jade Cross]

Like one of those holographic cards that the Muggles liked to play with in the light, Jade's eyes would change their hue as they moved from the horizon to meet Crimson's sanguine irises. Now that Emera began to grow in power, her control over Jade's body was nearly equal to Jade's own. Together, they had melded into a single being, separate but united, a sincere schizophrenia that couldn't help but alter their nature. Almost like a story that let you choose your own ending, sending you along an unpredictable path. Would you be burned by the fire of Emera or carried along, protected and tickled by the winds of Jade?

For some reason, the mere act of Crimson peering into her eyes shook her from the inside out. Shaking their common soul and raising the hair on her neck. Here was this centuries old vampiress, that both characters in the fleshy sack of water knew. Her outer appearance hardly reacted however... that was another strange effect... there were practically three entities to her now: Jade, Emera, and body. All three are very well pleased to meet you and enjoy long walks on the beach.

"Living." She replied simply. Unsure herself why exactly she was still there. Emera had been called for one reason: to kill... and now they were all dead. So why had she lingered? Was it for him?

[Crimson]

Crimson heard something, she heard a voice, she heard voices. She lifted her hands in the air and looked away from the gaze of Emery. The gaze that stared out from the body of Jade. Making her fingers walk along the cold stone floor she felt the corresponding chills sent up through the nerves inside her body. Circumventing throughout her skin, retrieving every possible reaction that a little cold could. With opposite hands she made her left walk toward her right and within an each she stopped moving her fingers.

"If the world isn't turning ..
Your heart won't return anyone, anything, anyhow.."

Emery didn't need anything from living, especially while living in someone else's body. There was a conspicuous unsaid reflection that was holding an audible silence in this tower.

Tick tock.

"Baby, love will come through, it's just waiting for you."

Was it a song in her head? Something to dwell upon, something that she didn't really care to explain. But her lips wanted to vocalize these mental wordings, and she let her voice do the rest.

Someone. Somewhere. Anything. Anywho.

[Jade Cross]

The black haired woman with the shifting indigo blue eyes released a deep, sad sigh. Why had she suddenly felt so tired? She was nearly 18 years old...and she felt ancient, maybe not as ancient as Crimson, but old all the same.

"Do not go quietly into that good night... rage, rage against the dying of the light..."

She continued to stay where she was, still as death and twice as cold. Give me an applause, anyone, anyone... Tear the tapestries and light the candles, create a bedlam home for my head.

"I haven't a heart, I haven't a body... I've nothing left to me. Jade has nothing, Emera has nothing, we've nothing but each other...

"So why is Emera here? Why don't I just die and succumb to oblivion?"

[Crimson]

"Because you're waiting for something."

I can see it. I can sense it. I can feel it.

Was there a fine line between what was allowed to be said and what wasn't? Crimson had a hard time drawing between the two, so the best answer to this problem, was to be silent.

God damn the silence.

But at least Jade had a beating heart. And for now, Crimson knew it wasn't hers, because hers didn't beat, hers didn't make rhythm, hers didn't sing.

But Jade's did.

Emery's didn't.

Somehow Crimson didn't believe that Emery's heart actually did beat, and so for those sole seconds as Crimson heard the heartbeats of Jade, she was assured that Jade existed still. Of course she had always known Jade existed, but sometimes, she was still amiss. There was no logic. She didn't need it. It was obsolete.

Silence.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Why Jade's body?"

[Jade Cross]

Her eyelids drew back to reveal two white balls, widening in some emotion that she didn't want to bother naming. They were a darkened purple now, as if they were both there, swimming beneath the surface of consciousness, each with equal control.

"Well why not?"

Emera didn't choose her successor; she died, plain and simple. Well... at least she didn't think that she did... Until the Istari rose again, Emera had been numbly existing in some other sort of realm or plane. And when she woke up, it was just like a breath of life; smooth, refreshing, and clawingly painful. She was supposed to be dead, not some sort of phantom, but of course, she was more than a mere spector. She took over Jade's body from time to time, but that didn't mean that she could leave it. Their soul kept them together. The last time she checked, the soul couldn't be split. Besides, where else would Emera go? It was her soul that had found Jade, not Emera... unless one would count them the same. Something about Jade had attracted Emera's soul. Figuring that out, however, would probably be as futile as the girl having both of her flip flops at once.

Crimson had said that she was waiting for something. But waiting for what? What did Emera have left to do? She was educated physically, mentally, and spiritualy, she waged battled for many, many years, won wars, lost battles, married, and died as a martyr, what else was there? Perhaps the vampire was right though... Crimson, even when the warrior was alive and inhabited her own body, was a wise being. Eccentric, a little schizophrenic, and arguably labled as insane... but her wisdom and perception only grew with time, keeping her as sharp as her deadly kanines.

"Paint the silence black..." She breathed softly, barely moving her lips.

[Crimson]

"When I see a red wall, I just want to paint it black."

There is a selected point in time in where the emotional stability of a race dubbed as humans, may crumble into continuously trampled dust. There will be a time when a peak is created that threatens to assist in the imbalance of passivity and compassion, loyalty and silence, and the power of the majourity which creates an unofficial sovereignty. When there is power, there is a lesser community, when there is the will to think freely, there are opinions, when there are different minds, there is a dispute between the standings on each subject matter which may be relevant to one's way of living, or which may not be. As a consequence it coerces those who have been compelled to stand upon an unstable foundation on top of the mountain where the virtue of patience may be pushed off, therefore inducing the establishment of a stand on individualism.

Another person. Another place. Another time.

Select minds spread out inconspicuously over the world desire and entail the need to arise their presence over others at times; that they may receive the attention in which the psychology of a mind desires to have for self-centered reasons; that they may take in the acknowledgement of others that are given to them to feed their egotistical needs, regardless of how large it is, or how insignificant. A name need not be given to those few whom differentiate from the reigning majourity, other than for the name that their mothers had adorned them with at birth; that each separate being may be separate and uncategorized; that every pair of eyes may walk without a title that belongs in the substantial volumes of Webster; that they may be seen without an instant classing known by biased and inaccurate judgments. May these individuals set their feet upon the ground and know that the jurisdictions of partnerships have been eradicated; that they may speak freely without having to be aware of who does not wish to be seen with them, and who does; that they will be free of consequences whether good or bad; that they may speak for beneficial sociality.

"We'll all live together. You may call me a dreamer."

She repeated herself.

But I'm not the only one.

Hence, one ember of a lit frenzy appeals to the reality that the stereotypes will be discarded without another thought to be held and as they are thrown away chained off sections and borderlines will be eliminated to have the community blend in as one. The allegiance to any clique, group, or party, shall be abolished to guide a path of equality inside originality, to the top of a summit; that there may be no boundaries to stay inside of. The minority of the people will raise to the same pedastool of the social ladder and may they be included to be alike; without the regard of the style of clothes that one wears so as to not judge; without notice of how their face is shaped to be a princess or a toad in one's mind. May all these limited peripheries be torn and devastated so as to not conceive a society constructed out of a Mistress Mary quite contrary.