In His Hands {Dyson/Open}

[marth]

The boy kneeled beside a mound of dirt, sitting back on his feet.
Small fingers traced the makeshift gravestone slowly
as a large mind comprehended the setting. His lips
moved as they shaped words that weren't spoken
except for in his head. The graves around did the same,
making death and end present yet remaining silent.

It was not a habit of the boy's to wander to such
dull places. In fact, he was usually never seen in an
area where a smile could not be found for more than
five meters. He naturally drifted to joy and laughter,
and to it he brought hope and understanding.

Today was a special day. He'd witnessed the fall of
the one beneath the ground, and was present at the digging.
He shed his tears for the unknown mutant, wishing that
he had a better The End than others who willingly plunged to the Depths.
It hurt his heart to see life slip away between his fingers.
Sometimes he just couldn't hold on.

Prophet eased air from his parted lips and then took in a wavering breath.
With the fading sun came a winding chill that urged him
to retreat to the warmth of the playground, where no
doubt the others already gathered.

But he felt pressured to stay. Guided. The Lord would
show him His intentions soon enough.
It was in His hands now.

Prophet closed his eyes contentedly.

[rocky]

Another spirit makes its way down to the graves. This one is trapped still inside a living body host. A child no less with a long life ahead of him. Almost to long as his body refused to die and free this soul into a land unknown. The land of the dead. This is were his mother resides. A tombstone outside of Freakopolis, Buried in cold dirt six feet deep. The feeling of loneliness creeps in his mind. If there was no way that Dustin could see his mothers grave then he would make up for it by seeing the graves of these fallen mutants. A pain swelled up in his hart as he staired at the shear numbers of graves in this tiny place. "Are we all destined to die alone in here?" Dustin spoke out-loud as if he was talking to the spirits.

Dustin was never a church goer and never really been to a grave before today. He imagined that all these tombstones had spirits attached to them. Chained to this world full of there regrets they must of had being trapped in this place all there lives. Dustin closed his hands together forming a prayer. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what his mother would say if still alive. He could only remember a song that she used to sing when sad things occurred in her life. It sounded so beautiful when she sung it that it made Dustin feel all worm inside. He started to sing it. The song was called Gravity. Dustin had a good singing voice for his age as his mother and him would sing all day every day. It was one of there things they did together. Dustin sung this song to pay respects to the dead here and to his mother.

Dustin opened his eyes now watering from his memories of before he had came here. Before his mother was decapitated and killed right in front of his eyes. Dustin remained in the same spot but felt like he was some were different. He felt odd and didn't know if it was a good thing or bad. He felt like there were people touching him however nobody was there. Dustin shrugged it off and continued to walk threw the graveyard reading some of there names and death dates. He kept on placing his left hand on some of the graves and with his right on his hart he would close his eyes for a moment. "You are not forgotten" He said over and over as he read there names after or before.

Day had fallen into night. The sky's color shifted into a dark deep blue all most black to the eyes. Specks of stars filled the sky and it reminded him of candles being lite to honer the dead. Dustin felt that same winding chill however his reaction was a bit different then the other child's lingering around in the grave yard. Dustin took out a piece of half eaten burger and lied down opposite side of the grave Prophet was at. Not seeing him under the cover of darkness. Dustin shut his eyes and passed out on that grave. His hamburger still in his mouth as he made breathing noises Prophet was surly able to hear. The rest of the burger dropped from his hands and rolled to Prophets feet on the other side of the grave.

[marth]

The boy sank to his knees at the same time another came wandering through,
apparently oblivious to his company. Little brown eyes
followed the figure as it reached out to caress each grave,
and then fell asleep across the way from Prophet, whose
interest had doubled while waiting to be noticed.

The poor kid must have been tired.

Prophet picked the burger up off the ground, thanked
God for the blessing--his hunger had been killing him--
and proceeded to devour the food.

Licking his fingers clean, Prophet stood and stepped around
the grave to Dyson, his fellow child mate. A placed
a friendly hand on the young boy's shoulder.

"There are better places to rest your head."
He informed softly, his voice somewhat angelic.

[rocky]

The child sleeps and dreams of another place, another time. Dustin peacefully sound asleep hadn't noticed Prophet taking his burger, Surely the child must have been hungry to eat a burger off of the ground. But then again Dustin would have done the same thing without hesitation. In fact the other day he had some chicken he stole that fell to the ground before he was able to devour its very meat. Dustin was tired and hungry all the time. His body needs both sleep and food to convert it into energy to be able to use his powers. If he can not use his power he will die. Dustin unknowingly is actually already dead. His ability keeps him alive and so he must keep it fueled to remain in a living state.

Dustin had been dreaming of another place in another time. In his dream there was a strong man with great physical strength. He had battled many foes and had fallen to the ground with exhaustion. There was another man. He looked to be old and wise with a fragile body and limbs. The old man awoke the man who had fallen. The knight that had fought to protect this old man. "Who are you, the man I protect?" The knight asked the seemingly odd old man. "I am a prophet." Replied the old wise one as he placed his hand on the knights shoulder. "There are better places to rest your head." The old mans voice shifted into a voice that could be considered angelic. When Dustin had opened his eyes he saw a young boy with his hand on his shoulder.

It was Prophet staring back at him. Dustin gave him a worm smile. "I didn't want them to be alone." He replied back as he pointed to the graves and ran his finger across the grave yard until he pointed at Prophet. "Are you alone?" He asked him with worried eyes. Dustin then took his other hand that he had his burger in and looked at it. He quickly eyed the ground nearby for his fallen burger while trying not to be obvious about it. He glanced back at Prophet. "I'm Dustin, Dustin Dyson." He introduced himself. Prophet seemed different then the other children but Dustin couldn't put his finger on it yet. There was just this presents about him. Dustin felt drawn to it but didn't know how to react to it. He has only felt this way about one other person. His mother.

[marth]

Prophet nodded simply.

"I was alone physically,"
His voice was factly,
"but I'm never completely alone."

His hand found its place back by his side. He stood, not because he
was leaving, but because he didn't want to get dirt on himself.

"I know your name, brother." Prophet said with a cheeky smile. He knew
most everyone's names. It was one of the mysterious things about the boy.

"I am called Prophet." He stared at Dyson for a long moment, considering
the kid. "Did you know that these bodies are not alone? That's because nobody's there. They're just capsules left in the ground. The spirits of each and every body have met their destinations."

Prophet's eyes grazed the gravestones.

"Where is your destination?"