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+---- Thread: MR BLUE / a death (/showthread.php?tid=12468)
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MR BLUE / a death - bubblegum - 08-13-2020
Re: MR BLUE / a death - michael t. - 08-13-2020
Life was sudden, and vicious, and cruel. That was a fact that Michael had accepted when he was very young, watching his world crumble around him as he was berated and abused for another day. Ever since then, he had never truly expected anything good to come from the simple act of living. He still had nightmares, on occasion, expecting everything nice and kind in his life to fall apart once again, and leave him alone. There had been a certain sense of anxiety that had lingered in his chest since he had first joined the Typhoon, and it had only grown and grown with every passing day. Not only as more good things happened for him, but also as more good things happened for others as well. After all, gradually most of the Typhoon had come to be known as either friends or family to the thief, so of course he didn't want to see any of them suffer. That's why, with every death or pitfall of misfortune that fell upon the heads of his new family, he felt pain like a stinging blade shoved right into his heart. He had thought that he wouldn't have to worry about that pain, at least not for now. Things had been going so well, and it seemed like everyone was happy. Sure, there were issues, but they were minor in the grand scheme of things. They weren't anything like this.
It was a chain reaction that had led to not only Lovekit, but Michael and Roan also showing up to offer their support and condolences to Goldie. Both Michael and his nephew had already been rushing towards the Roux-Brannon residence at the first sign of the scream of agony that left the place, but they were soon met at the entrance by Lovekit. The child had gone to check on their mother after the scream, only to see her clinging desperately to Sam's body. They hadn't known what to do, so naturally they had gone to seek Roan, the person that everyone told them to go to if someone was hurt. Roan's heart sank as soon as he heard Lovekit's words, and he touched his nose gently to his cousin's head, whispering soft reassurances. Michael winced before moving inside, along with both the medic and Goldie and Sam's child. Immediately, the atmosphere of the entire place felt... wrong. There was such a deep sense of sick, and sadness, and mourning, and Michael wanted desperately to run from it, but he also knew that he couldn't. He cared for Goldie, as much as the captain tended to terrify him. So, he kept moving forward, flanked by both Lovekit and Roan, until he eventually reached the door to Goldie and Sam's bedroom. The scene was just as dire as Lovekit had described, and Michael's chest tightened at the sight of it, until he felt utterly breathless.
Roan was the first of the trio to eventually move, padding forward into the room with his head hung low. The sage hesitated before he spoke, his voice pained, "Goldie... do you need medical attention? Did she... did she just pass?" He couldn't see any visible wounds on his cousin's body, but he still needed to ask. Needed to focus on the business side of everything, or he was going to fall apart. Roan had never been close to Sam, but he still felt... responsible, somehow. Unless she had died from natural causes, it should've been his job to treat her. To make sure this didn't happen. His heart sank the more he thought about it, sure that he had lost all of Goldie's trust – that he had made his cousin hate him, because he couldn't save Sam.
Lovekit was the next to move, the child rushing forward to climb onto the bed, eyes wide and face reflecting the panic he felt deep down inside. The boy stared down at Sam's body for a moment, before his gaze turned back to Goldie, muttering softly, "Mom... mom, what's wrong? What's going on? What's wrong with mama?" Lovekit couldn't help but press because he couldn't understand. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't know how to make it better. Had he done something wrong? Was Goldie angry with him? Why wouldn't Sam wake up? His mind swirled with endless questions, and Lovekit couldn't do anything but stand there, staring desperately into the face of his mother, who wasn't even trying to hold herself together.
Michael was the last to move, but the bobcat didn't move inside the room. No, that didn't feel right. He wasn't true family, and he hadn't known Sam all that well. As much as agony twisted and wrung out his heart at the sight of Goldie panicking and crying out, he knew his place wasn't in the house. So instead, he found himself muttering softly, voice barely loud enough to be heard above the general chaos happening already, "...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss, Goldie." He then turned, leaving the doorway and heading back into the open air. Ignoring the way that his chest tightened and squeezed, trying to choke him and leave him lightheaded, he found himself calling out, "Roxie! Roxanne! Goldie... Goldie needs you! Please!" He couldn't help the desperation that slipped into his voice, nor the distraught look on his face as he sat down outside the Roux-Brannon home, scrubbing at his face with a paw. Roxie would know what to do... she had to, right? Goldie was her niece. She'd know how to help, better than he ever could.
It was a chain reaction that had led to not only Lovekit, but Michael and Roan also showing up to offer their support and condolences to Goldie. Both Michael and his nephew had already been rushing towards the Roux-Brannon residence at the first sign of the scream of agony that left the place, but they were soon met at the entrance by Lovekit. The child had gone to check on their mother after the scream, only to see her clinging desperately to Sam's body. They hadn't known what to do, so naturally they had gone to seek Roan, the person that everyone told them to go to if someone was hurt. Roan's heart sank as soon as he heard Lovekit's words, and he touched his nose gently to his cousin's head, whispering soft reassurances. Michael winced before moving inside, along with both the medic and Goldie and Sam's child. Immediately, the atmosphere of the entire place felt... wrong. There was such a deep sense of sick, and sadness, and mourning, and Michael wanted desperately to run from it, but he also knew that he couldn't. He cared for Goldie, as much as the captain tended to terrify him. So, he kept moving forward, flanked by both Lovekit and Roan, until he eventually reached the door to Goldie and Sam's bedroom. The scene was just as dire as Lovekit had described, and Michael's chest tightened at the sight of it, until he felt utterly breathless.
Roan was the first of the trio to eventually move, padding forward into the room with his head hung low. The sage hesitated before he spoke, his voice pained, "Goldie... do you need medical attention? Did she... did she just pass?" He couldn't see any visible wounds on his cousin's body, but he still needed to ask. Needed to focus on the business side of everything, or he was going to fall apart. Roan had never been close to Sam, but he still felt... responsible, somehow. Unless she had died from natural causes, it should've been his job to treat her. To make sure this didn't happen. His heart sank the more he thought about it, sure that he had lost all of Goldie's trust – that he had made his cousin hate him, because he couldn't save Sam.
Lovekit was the next to move, the child rushing forward to climb onto the bed, eyes wide and face reflecting the panic he felt deep down inside. The boy stared down at Sam's body for a moment, before his gaze turned back to Goldie, muttering softly, "Mom... mom, what's wrong? What's going on? What's wrong with mama?" Lovekit couldn't help but press because he couldn't understand. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't know how to make it better. Had he done something wrong? Was Goldie angry with him? Why wouldn't Sam wake up? His mind swirled with endless questions, and Lovekit couldn't do anything but stand there, staring desperately into the face of his mother, who wasn't even trying to hold herself together.
Michael was the last to move, but the bobcat didn't move inside the room. No, that didn't feel right. He wasn't true family, and he hadn't known Sam all that well. As much as agony twisted and wrung out his heart at the sight of Goldie panicking and crying out, he knew his place wasn't in the house. So instead, he found himself muttering softly, voice barely loud enough to be heard above the general chaos happening already, "...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for your loss, Goldie." He then turned, leaving the doorway and heading back into the open air. Ignoring the way that his chest tightened and squeezed, trying to choke him and leave him lightheaded, he found himself calling out, "Roxie! Roxanne! Goldie... Goldie needs you! Please!" He couldn't help the desperation that slipped into his voice, nor the distraught look on his face as he sat down outside the Roux-Brannon home, scrubbing at his face with a paw. Roxie would know what to do... she had to, right? Goldie was her niece. She'd know how to help, better than he ever could.
MICHAEL TOWNLEY - THE TYPHOON - PENNED BY STILLY
[sup]template made by tikki[/sup]Re: MR BLUE / a death - Luciferr - 08-13-2020
[table][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table]
Luciferus was old and with that age came a very long line of heartbreak,
What was more heartbreaking was that it all happened so much quicker than it should have or needed to be - and it left scars that never really healed properly, reopened and bled far too often in fact.
But he was a bleeding heart still - and so often he took to mothering these fragile mortals where his mother had also done once, but never again did he let himself fall for one
His wife had been a spitfire, brilliant, beautiful and iridescent - a fighter for freedom, for life and for all that were under her blazing blue wings.
But for all that she had been the bright burning soul in his life, she had died just as quickly,
And with lucifer too far to do anything about it,
Too late to catch her, too late to watch her fall to naught but ashes and a burnt pendant in his grasp.
(And then later, when he’d dared again, watched yet another slip away quietly and so he did not try again, it was simply too painful)
This is one of many losses, but one that is so heavily imprinted as to never leave his mind,
Just like his mother, just like his brothers, his sisters,
His children.
Which is why when the anguished cries ring out and the running of various Roux’s cross his path, the dragon in the form of a hellion follows no less quickly, peering in on heartbreak.
He forgets you see, how fragile they all are, things like a sleeping death, quick and quiet and yet no less painful,
But Luciferus is at least glad it wasn’t painful, it’s the only thing to be glad about,
There is no hellfire and screams and struggle here
Just heartbreak
And suddenly he feels as old as the world he stands on, older still really.
So He pushes past Michael, a sad glance to lovekit - with a pug he remembers that feeling, watching your parent die, it will scar the child he knows, it scarred him after all - and moves to sit beside Goldie, offering her his support
”Goldie, come here, come here Goldie” the shadow calls quietly attempting to urge the distraught leader into a hug - he can’t take away the pain (nothing can, he knows this) but he can be there for her, that much he can do, he can be here
He can be here.
What was more heartbreaking was that it all happened so much quicker than it should have or needed to be - and it left scars that never really healed properly, reopened and bled far too often in fact.
But he was a bleeding heart still - and so often he took to mothering these fragile mortals where his mother had also done once, but never again did he let himself fall for one
His wife had been a spitfire, brilliant, beautiful and iridescent - a fighter for freedom, for life and for all that were under her blazing blue wings.
But for all that she had been the bright burning soul in his life, she had died just as quickly,
And with lucifer too far to do anything about it,
Too late to catch her, too late to watch her fall to naught but ashes and a burnt pendant in his grasp.
(And then later, when he’d dared again, watched yet another slip away quietly and so he did not try again, it was simply too painful)
This is one of many losses, but one that is so heavily imprinted as to never leave his mind,
Just like his mother, just like his brothers, his sisters,
His children.
Which is why when the anguished cries ring out and the running of various Roux’s cross his path, the dragon in the form of a hellion follows no less quickly, peering in on heartbreak.
He forgets you see, how fragile they all are, things like a sleeping death, quick and quiet and yet no less painful,
But Luciferus is at least glad it wasn’t painful, it’s the only thing to be glad about,
There is no hellfire and screams and struggle here
Just heartbreak
And suddenly he feels as old as the world he stands on, older still really.
So He pushes past Michael, a sad glance to lovekit - with a pug he remembers that feeling, watching your parent die, it will scar the child he knows, it scarred him after all - and moves to sit beside Goldie, offering her his support
”Goldie, come here, come here Goldie” the shadow calls quietly attempting to urge the distraught leader into a hug - he can’t take away the pain (nothing can, he knows this) but he can be there for her, that much he can do, he can be here
He can be here.
Re: MR BLUE / a death - Seakit Roux. - 08-13-2020
IF MY LIFE IS GOING
TO MEAN ANYTHING,
I HAVE TO LIVE IT
MYSELF.
tiguar . young . he/him
Seapaw, ever consistent in his habits, had already been trudging across the house when everything went bad. At his mother's cries, his foot steps quickened and his heart rate rose. His foot steps brought him tumbling into the room where he froze, just beside the door. He was numb to the entrance of his crewmates until his brother's voice rang through his ears. His chest heaved, dry gasps rasping out from the brightly colored tiguar as he held back his own screams.
A snarl, quiet and full of rage leaves the normally loving boy, his large claws leaving deep gouges in the wood of his family's home. The home they lived in, they loved in, and they now died in. How cruel the world was to rip those he loves away from him. It had taken his sister from him before they ever met, before he could get to know her and before he could learn to love her. And now? Now it took one of his mothers away from him. One of the most important people in his life was just gone, and he never got to say goodbye.
He dropped his head, shaking his head as tears slapped against the floor, soaking the fur that tufted off of his cheeks. He took A deep breath, standing up and moving towards the bed. He would half lift onto the bed, just his front paws, and press his nose against Sam's side. The lack of motion brought a nausea over him and he he sniffled, whispering something so softly that only he could hear before backing away.
He would move towards his younger brother, wrapping a large paw around him. "Come- Come 'ere, Lovekit, it's okay, just, just give them- give up a lil bit space. Come- come sit- come sit with me." He would gently pick up his younger brother, wrapping him firmly against in a hug. He didn't know what to say but he knew that it wasn't something Lovekit should see, something nobody should have to see.
A snarl, quiet and full of rage leaves the normally loving boy, his large claws leaving deep gouges in the wood of his family's home. The home they lived in, they loved in, and they now died in. How cruel the world was to rip those he loves away from him. It had taken his sister from him before they ever met, before he could get to know her and before he could learn to love her. And now? Now it took one of his mothers away from him. One of the most important people in his life was just gone, and he never got to say goodbye.
He dropped his head, shaking his head as tears slapped against the floor, soaking the fur that tufted off of his cheeks. He took A deep breath, standing up and moving towards the bed. He would half lift onto the bed, just his front paws, and press his nose against Sam's side. The lack of motion brought a nausea over him and he he sniffled, whispering something so softly that only he could hear before backing away.
He would move towards his younger brother, wrapping a large paw around him. "Come- Come 'ere, Lovekit, it's okay, just, just give them- give up a lil bit space. Come- come sit- come sit with me." He would gently pick up his younger brother, wrapping him firmly against in a hug. He didn't know what to say but he knew that it wasn't something Lovekit should see, something nobody should have to see.
Re: MR BLUE / a death - Grimm - 08-13-2020
THE TACTICIAN
Someday I’ll make something out of me, years of imitating mastery only made me a better thief
Gunpowder and smoke. Cruel and rough the edges uncaring hands had carved for her, pulled at seams until an ensnaring, broken mess of open veins and layered scar tissue was she, a lacquered soul lost among ceaseless crimson tides. Dark and heavy, an abyss into which light collapsed and died in the disastrous fanfare accompanying sudden demise, a broken star molded until black hole had she become.
But other did the child that had once been at peace among the folds of gentle slumber, where once ungulates sailed over makeshift fence the swirling kaleidoscope dreams painted against open canvas ruled. The softness of pilfered fleece, a certain shakey sense about the knife given slash to a grin she bore with quiet affection, love filling the holes stardust had fallen from. Certain the pleasantry buried beneath the title of family, yet so too is demise lingering in those corners, behind a false shield the ocean tears craft merely awaiting the time they may drown in the beseeching depths.
( They would drown, swallow the salty tears that fell on fitful little bursts, claim her deathbed as their own )
Against curvature of cranium laid the weak cartilage ears bore, intrusive the endless bloom her sorrow wrought against the stillness, of no matter that which stood between. Do not go, it is not your place. Quiet the hum, a voice not their own gentle as it tapped along aching inner seam, raucous the uproar when disregard the sanity presented in advice. Dim had been their youth, a quiet, sullen thing the innocence they clung to, about trembling shoulders for stolen prize it, yet to this they may only relent.
Childhood trauma visited upon within the unwelcome vision framed by the stillness of accroaching rot. Too young, either that who felt the chilled tips of fingers decay had eaten at until nought but bone may caress blackened intern tissue and the child slow in action, creaking groan accompanying shift. Stay here, where you may dream of better days. Back pushed the discarded assortment that adorned bed, large, ocean crafted from fabric - too much, they are swallowed and beaten, jagged rocks tearing at skin they may not reach - cool the wooden flooring they place shaky paws upon.
Familiar the route, if of a better circumstance the prior approaches. No nightmare threads the broken, hollow edges thoughts fell apart into within the wake of departing nightmare, the tears are there, however, a stinging tide painting dark cheeks. Others - too many their mind screams as though futile attempt to force backpedal may work - a quiet symphony bearing lacklustre sympathy as processed that before them. Between legs woven, robotic the actions, thoughtless even if they knew to move away from the attempted halt others may stage.
HAD THEY NO RIGHT TO KNOW?
These strangers, brief the moment of recall for some as faces swam forth among accumulated tears, bore no right in which action they may take. Unwelcome they, intruders unwanted.
Weak the pitiful manner lips peeled back from enamel, upon edges adorned the dwindling note of a sob laced growl. Already their heart was breaking, crumbling away into nought but dust in their aching chest, even as away from them did attention skip.
Before scene unfolding like the jaws of a beast bearing an endless hunger, never satisfied with the mere morsel it may claim when the dark veil night bore befell the world, into which the child unsteady walked readily. Tall, a mountain made from soft, pliable material , tiny picks the claws seeking purchase. Long and gruelling the struggle, but it was moments, wasn't it, collapse sure to occur when umber settle upon mothers.
Til death do us part.
Quiet words spoken before figure of holy significance, a promise as much as it was an invitation for their own demise. Forth did Harlow's tumble, an imperfect yet loved product of love broken apart by the cruelty wound about fate, downfall a making her own. "Mama, why isn't she waking up." Still the world beside her, singular point among the encroaching darkness sliding against blurred vision. Black and twisted, grief an ebony spike driven into chambers heart possessed, anything else swallowed beneath the mournful keen, sobs mingling into a singular sound.
Closer they crept, as best as they may pressed to her, shied from the chilling body. That is your mother, show some respect. But it wasn't, no longer bore the knife slash smile that spoke volumes her voice may not encase, that had cradled and loved with a gentle flame, storm contained within mortal skin tempered for what she had made with her wife.
But other did the child that had once been at peace among the folds of gentle slumber, where once ungulates sailed over makeshift fence the swirling kaleidoscope dreams painted against open canvas ruled. The softness of pilfered fleece, a certain shakey sense about the knife given slash to a grin she bore with quiet affection, love filling the holes stardust had fallen from. Certain the pleasantry buried beneath the title of family, yet so too is demise lingering in those corners, behind a false shield the ocean tears craft merely awaiting the time they may drown in the beseeching depths.
( They would drown, swallow the salty tears that fell on fitful little bursts, claim her deathbed as their own )
Against curvature of cranium laid the weak cartilage ears bore, intrusive the endless bloom her sorrow wrought against the stillness, of no matter that which stood between. Do not go, it is not your place. Quiet the hum, a voice not their own gentle as it tapped along aching inner seam, raucous the uproar when disregard the sanity presented in advice. Dim had been their youth, a quiet, sullen thing the innocence they clung to, about trembling shoulders for stolen prize it, yet to this they may only relent.
Childhood trauma visited upon within the unwelcome vision framed by the stillness of accroaching rot. Too young, either that who felt the chilled tips of fingers decay had eaten at until nought but bone may caress blackened intern tissue and the child slow in action, creaking groan accompanying shift. Stay here, where you may dream of better days. Back pushed the discarded assortment that adorned bed, large, ocean crafted from fabric - too much, they are swallowed and beaten, jagged rocks tearing at skin they may not reach - cool the wooden flooring they place shaky paws upon.
Familiar the route, if of a better circumstance the prior approaches. No nightmare threads the broken, hollow edges thoughts fell apart into within the wake of departing nightmare, the tears are there, however, a stinging tide painting dark cheeks. Others - too many their mind screams as though futile attempt to force backpedal may work - a quiet symphony bearing lacklustre sympathy as processed that before them. Between legs woven, robotic the actions, thoughtless even if they knew to move away from the attempted halt others may stage.
HAD THEY NO RIGHT TO KNOW?
These strangers, brief the moment of recall for some as faces swam forth among accumulated tears, bore no right in which action they may take. Unwelcome they, intruders unwanted.
Weak the pitiful manner lips peeled back from enamel, upon edges adorned the dwindling note of a sob laced growl. Already their heart was breaking, crumbling away into nought but dust in their aching chest, even as away from them did attention skip.
Before scene unfolding like the jaws of a beast bearing an endless hunger, never satisfied with the mere morsel it may claim when the dark veil night bore befell the world, into which the child unsteady walked readily. Tall, a mountain made from soft, pliable material , tiny picks the claws seeking purchase. Long and gruelling the struggle, but it was moments, wasn't it, collapse sure to occur when umber settle upon mothers.
Til death do us part.
Quiet words spoken before figure of holy significance, a promise as much as it was an invitation for their own demise. Forth did Harlow's tumble, an imperfect yet loved product of love broken apart by the cruelty wound about fate, downfall a making her own. "Mama, why isn't she waking up." Still the world beside her, singular point among the encroaching darkness sliding against blurred vision. Black and twisted, grief an ebony spike driven into chambers heart possessed, anything else swallowed beneath the mournful keen, sobs mingling into a singular sound.
Closer they crept, as best as they may pressed to her, shied from the chilling body. That is your mother, show some respect. But it wasn't, no longer bore the knife slash smile that spoke volumes her voice may not encase, that had cradled and loved with a gentle flame, storm contained within mortal skin tempered for what she had made with her wife.
code by Reggan
Re: MR BLUE / a death - trojan g. - 08-13-2020
[align=center][div style="max-width: 425px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 30px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; padding-top: 10px;"]Death gripped at the edges of all the creatures that walked the planet, whether it be today or next year, death would come to all, even if they didn't think it would.
Chickenbone had never thought about death before. His parents before his adoption had been long gone by the time he had found himself able to think clearly, and he hadn't even so much as thought about where they were or why they were no longer around where he was. Of course, he held that primal fear that there was going to be something wrong one day, that he was going to be eaten. But that was due to him being a prey animal, he truly didn't know what it meant to be eaten, didn't know that it meant death, simply that it was bad.
So when he heard the mournful cry of Goldenluxery, Chicken's heart broke, and he ran.
Ran toward the home and the gathering of bodies, watching as the tigress pulled the love of her life close to her body and broke down, and saw with his eyes as those around her tried to comfort her, or were simply confused as to what this was. Chickenbone hadn't known Sam, and as of the time being didn't really know Goldie either. He knew she was adopted family somehow, but he was young and didn't quite understand what it all meant.
What he did see was his father, head bowed and quiet, asking questions. So Chickenbone would weave his way through the larger creatures before meeting his father, grabbing onto a leg from behind and watching carefully, eyes looking towards the captain in sorrow, in apology. He truly was sorry for her loss.
Re: MR BLUE / a death - ROXANNE R. - 08-13-2020
[glow=white,1,400]I LOVE YOU, CANNIBAL QUEEN ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
The call of her name made the tigress stop in her tracks with both of her ears perked forward, she turned around sharply in the direction of where her name was being yelled out. It didn't take long for Roxanne to hear heartbreaking sobs coming from the shared home that belonged to her niece and her wife, Roxanne could only assume the worst and she hated that she was right once she approached the scene seeing her nephews gathered around as well as Lucifer and her son. Roxie would nudge Roan gently only to murmur with a shake of her cranium "You can't heal a broken heart with herbs or medicine..." She would let that sink in not hesitating to step forward in the direction of her niece feeling her gaze soften, she could remember the last time that Goldenluxury had been this heartbroken and it hurt her seeing her niece in such a state. Sam had taught Goldie how to love and helped the Roux so much, it was shame that the doberman had passed away. Without another thought, she would aim to hug her niece with her wings curling around her only to rest her nose on forehead, Roxanne had lost love before but never like this. She closed both of her eyes not uttering another word, she didn't know how the children would feel knowing one of their mothers was dead. It hurt.
Her heart aching as she would speak in a soothing voice "I'm so sorry, sweetheart..." Roxanne would move away briefly not wanting to overwhelm her niece, Roxanne wished she could've done more for the captain who had become like a type of daughter to her but, Roxie didn't know what words to say so she hoped that her physical comfort would help Goldie and if it didn't, the Officer would move away to give her niece the needed space. [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]
Her heart aching as she would speak in a soothing voice "I'm so sorry, sweetheart..." Roxanne would move away briefly not wanting to overwhelm her niece, Roxanne wished she could've done more for the captain who had become like a type of daughter to her but, Roxie didn't know what words to say so she hoped that her physical comfort would help Goldie and if it didn't, the Officer would move away to give her niece the needed space. [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]
Re: MR BLUE / a death - devland - 08-13-2020
[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 60%; min-height: 8px; font-family: arial; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 25px"]Devland's thoughts on death were always tangled and twisted, and try as he might, he always found himself unsure of his feelings towards it. In his short life, he had not made bitter enemies with death; he had seen a handful of others die, but he had never been left reeling or desperate to turn back time. The night he had escaped, there had been plenty of death, he was sure, but other than it being a reminder of how lucky he was, it did not haunt his dreams, upset his eating patterns, or make him regret any of his choices.
Things were different here though. Not for him, he knew, but for others. The Typhoon was a true family. Death was felt in waves here, and the undertow caught hold of all its members. Devland was just new enough to escape the tide, but as Goldenluxury's pained shrieks reached him, he wondered how long he would be able to avoid the currents. He blinked at his inner-selfishness, but trudged on, guided by a strange, nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he assumed was grotesque curiosity.
There was a gathering outside the home, and once he was close enough, he could hear how Goldie's agonized screams had melted into sobs. The air was so heavy with grief that Devland felt suffocated. His ears pinned back to his skull, and he peaked inside the home. In his quick observation, he saw confused children, comforting relatives and friends, an immensely broken woman, and a too-alive corpse. Though he was by no means close to the home, he found himself backing up another few steps. There were too many emotions, and he didn't have the capacity to begin to understand it all.
He sat down slowly, eyeing the fallout from a safe distance. Where the house was alight was sounds of mourning, Devland was perfectly silent - a rare occurrence. As if realizing that, he hummed softly to himself. He wondered if he ought to offer his condolences, but that task seemed monumental. Besides, no matter how sweetly and delicately he crafted his words, he couldn't wax poetic about death. He didn't even want to try, so he opted for observing the aftermath with a contemplative, cool expression.
Re: MR BLUE / a death - APHRA CIPHER . - 08-13-2020
[glow=grey,1,400]FOR ONCE, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST COME AND CHASE ME ? — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
With everything going on lately, Aphra tended to keep to herself more often. Although she wouldn't admit it - at least, not out loud to anyone else - she was rather ashamed of the fact that Caesar had attacked Goldenluxury. She didn't like the way her fur prickled every time she got near the Captain, thinking that Goldie was going to hold something against her solely due to her relation to Caesar. Hell, that was actually the other reason Aphra kept to herself; the two or three NPCs that said rude things about her got to her skin, thinking that they were trying to spark rumors to get her exiled from The Typhoon.
But Aphra couldn't stay hidden forever, and she knew this. As much as she wanted to stay hidden forever, there were things that needed to be done. Namely, interacting with people - it was boring sitting in her house, wallowing in her own self-pity. Hearing a commotion towards the Captain's quarters though made her ears prick, slowly coming over to see what was going on. Goldenluxury's shriek made Aphra flinch, and she stretched her neck as much as she possibly could, trying to see what was going on.
Sam was dead.
"Good riddance." The words came out of Aphra's mouth before she could think, her tone flat and unsympathetic - almost like another time that she was supposedly so ashamed of. Truthfully, Aphra had done so to try and get close to Roxanne, knowing that Roxie was Goldie's aunt and the two were close to each other - but, quite honestly, the act was getting tiring. She could only fake feelings so much before they got too exhausting to do.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]
But Aphra couldn't stay hidden forever, and she knew this. As much as she wanted to stay hidden forever, there were things that needed to be done. Namely, interacting with people - it was boring sitting in her house, wallowing in her own self-pity. Hearing a commotion towards the Captain's quarters though made her ears prick, slowly coming over to see what was going on. Goldenluxury's shriek made Aphra flinch, and she stretched her neck as much as she possibly could, trying to see what was going on.
Sam was dead.
"Good riddance." The words came out of Aphra's mouth before she could think, her tone flat and unsympathetic - almost like another time that she was supposedly so ashamed of. Truthfully, Aphra had done so to try and get close to Roxanne, knowing that Roxie was Goldie's aunt and the two were close to each other - but, quite honestly, the act was getting tiring. She could only fake feelings so much before they got too exhausting to do.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]
Re: MR BLUE / a death - LORD HELIX. - 08-14-2020
Ah, death.
Such is the way of life.
Truthfully, Helix "knew" this was coming. Death was natural, it was to be expected. It was a shame mortals could not understand that it was a way of life. Goldenluxury brought life into this world, and as such, someone needed to leave. The ancient creature's eyes snapped open as he heard Goldenluxury's shriek, not expecting such a loud sound from a land creature. He heard the Captain shuffling about and heard her murmurs to her lover, but he did not expect to hear her scream in such a way.
Helix waddled his way to the scene with what appeared to be a frown on his face. Pushing past the white eyesore that was Aphra, the 'Omastar' tried to settle himself on the other side of Goldenluxury, opposite of Roxanne. "I am sorry for your loss." He spoke. "But it is something that is natural and cannot be stopped. I promise I will take care of her soul in the afterlife." It was the very least he could do, considering Goldie let him join her cluster and stay with her at her home.