* 𝓟rometheus

Cain… apa salah jika Rome rindu barang sedikit?

“today, too, the lotuses are in full bloom.”

“wake up.” five minutes before midnight. “cain, wake up.” @Demouere

siapa tahu cain lupa kalau tadi minta dielus.

did he know that hare were oftentimes attributed to a greater planar of existence, whereas rabbits are simply cute? raison d'être vary from one person to another. would niko’s be … one akin to rabbit?

prometheus loves to talk; to the wind, to the swaying stalks, to sleeping hares on winter noon. isolation does plenty to one - the progenitor warned prometheus of this once.

knowledge is the tip of the iceberg. instinct, comprehension, insight, imagination - the depth of human’s mind is far beyond our working of logic. this, i had known from the progenitor, who observed more than i had. he had to be, else his mission will never see the light of day.

ah, but why would one feel offended for not comprehending a thing that did not stood the test of time? why stand with a losing dog in a match? the knowledge itself is simply flawed. a person is more than what they have learned, so there is no need to feel discouraged.

oh? glad his early life has its own appeal. continuing on. the progenitor, though charming, was working on a thing that could hardly be fathomed by the likes of you - for it is lost knowledge tested and bested by time. it has no place in a world that wants to thrive.

he suppose he was a scholar once, or something of the likes. alchemy was one of his callings, though not the only one. through his study, he met the progenitor - whom he was very fond of. there is a better word to describe the progenitor, but that is a secret best kept to heart.

prometheus begins from wealth. parents, siblings, chamberlains: faces and details that were lost to time. memories are, after all, as stone - and life, its riverine. shall we continue or have his tale bore you?

prometheus, too, was a son of a man and a woman.

ah, but now he can’t. the trees and the wisps of the forest need him. the cycle of life and death calls to him in whispers, for heat wave is going to travel and nourish the rot. next time, then, son of man ~

now he simply /can’t/ not come. and he loves the smell of dilapidating papers. and subscriptions, the whole lot of them, despite not knowing how they work or how to purchase them.

those thin strips…? and pray tell, how would they satisfy prometheus’ thirst of entertainment and knowledge when even vellums could not?

heave a deep sigh. bored. he’s read all of his library’s worth for the umpteenth time now. perhaps it’s time for a library visit…?

mau pesannya hilang di jalan atau mau sampai ke meja kerja Prometheus? ^^