Lightcity's Heavenly Haven

A fanfiction based off of Darktown's Brimstone Brewery.

Karin had always been at the Haven, it was simply a matter of whether or not she chose to be seen. This place of peace was rarely peaceful in truth, but the fact that everyone seemed to grow here made it an overall pleasant place to be. Here she could feel like Siddharta must have in his own cycles, with flowers blossoming at every footstep and life eternal in every breath.
Then Tycho walked through the door, and every time she thought of him Karin giggled. He loved wearing the mask of death when facing her, simply to reflect. And every time he did, she'd put on her own death mask. As she did he'd put on the mask of life. It was one of their favorite games: Pass the Mask.
As he sat before her, he picked up his deck of cards, about five in each hand, and she grasped her own. In the center was the last trump card, the one representing the Haven's entirety. They both wore wide grins, but they never showed it at the same time.
Loony looked from time to time at the spectacle, thinking the Armageddon was at hand every time one of the two drew a card, as did most of the other spectators. Karin always wanted to reassure them, "It's just an advanced game of Go Fish!"
Tycho would more than likely just slap them upside the head and say, "They're cards. Go F**k!"
"Obviously, you need to get laid," Karin would reply if she ever saw it happen.
"Speak for yourself," Tycho would answer.
Karin's giggle would continue. "I do, dear sir! Every word I say is universal, as ought to be yours!"
They always agreed to disagree. Karin loved him, and when she loved him, he hated her. When she hated him, he loved her.
The truth of it was, they were looking for a compromise. Both of them knew the tools and used them, but while one had more influence over one half of the four elements, the other always held the opposite in their control.
For in their hands they held more than a simple deck of cards. The faces changed accordingly, from a sole deck of jesters, jokers, harlequins and fools to pentacles, wands, swords and chalices and so forth. The deck was never the same, and as they swapped cards each hand became more powerful than the last.
Sometimes the deck would even be of actors on a stage. It was always a question of who had the most stamina, who could outwit and upstage the other the most. When this deck was played, they pretended to be Alice and the Mad Hatter at the Tea Party. They were having fun, they just wouldn't admit out loud at the same time.
The compromise was the underlying factor of it all. When a person plays a game, they're bound to have fun. But those who truly win are the ones who can applaud the round's winners and come back to play again.
Such was life between Tycho and Karin. They kept dancing, and every time Karin twirled, Tycho would let her spin out of control. In those moments, she'd fall and gracefully twirl back in rhythm. They knew many dances, many songs, and many games.
"You see? By your own terms I love you," Karin would smile at Tycho.
"Ah, shut it, ya wench. I don't care if you love me now, then or ever. I'll never love you," Tycho would say.
For them the dance may never end. It may halt, but it will only be for a short time before they step back together again. No matter the situation, they'd danced for so long anyway that she'd be dancing together long after he physically could not, and that was why LightCity's Heavenly Haven held so many lively living memories, so many dreams of dead men dreaming.
The core philosophy of Karin's heart was: "What will be will be. It is what it is. In whatever form you desire, I shall always love you."
Tycho's was: "What won't be won't be. It isn't what it isn't. In none of the forms you desire, I shall always hate you."
They were the same words from different perspectives. She would tell the world unless she needed otherwise, and he'd tell no one unless he needed otherwise. In as many words as she could say, he had as many words he wouldn't. As many thoughts as he had, such was the number she wouldn't. This, too, was changed around. They were preparing each other for the moments ahead and teaching each other how to cope with those behind. They were centered in themselves and each other.

Caught in an eternal spiral, an infinite circle encased in a square, a point in a door, a brain in a skull, they were both of an ancient race: The Phoegon Draenix. Half dragon and half Phoenix. There were many ways to communicate the same thing, and they always said it to each other in their own black and white languages. 

Author's Note

After writing all that I feel I've been too redundant. It's just a way of knocking sense into myself, because the best way to learn something is through practice.