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ROOTS | open, feral/murder - Printable Version

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Re: ROOTS | open, feral/murder - Grimm - 01-28-2021

[div style="margin: auto; max-width: 475px; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Another, too young, a child innocent and meant to be kept as such. Yet nothing may halt an approach guided not by thought, something deeper ran, a taint he might not fight against for against  every fibre was it written. Desire built, strengthened the urge to draw away the kitten caught in the throes of a struggle few may understand, kept only for outcome may not be prejudged. He wished no harm to him, nor the draconic beast silent still as the voices multiplied with each arrival, left to his own devices. Shame burnt his chest when the haste of his departure was conducted, however, great head shifting, watched the child that fled.

Forgotten for a moment the sudden arrival and departure, their number ticking up once more. Forward ears swivelled, dull the note made of how attention fixated on the dead for a time that seemed prolonged, contrary the words spoken in a tone kept even. Deep the rumble that arose through his chest, softer now, an offer made with the shift of attention. "If need will help." Better to atone for such in solitude, permit the time of digging to become one filled with the thoughts of the deed, unstood as it became sole focus. Yet he knew the hardship of it, a burden he may shoulder alongside, offer given with room for agreement or rejection as it was seen fit.

The matter of therapy one he had no opinion on, though with the diversion of attention, felt how those numerous eyes landed upon him for a brief moment, his stance shifted. To accept such, permit another able of such atrocity yet incapable of acceptance that the issue may be somehow remedied, felt wrong. No further words would the bear speak but he would linger, a silent offering of assistance should the need arise.


Re: ROOTS | open, feral/murder - CORRUPTTIMELINES - 02-03-2021

His face turns with remorse hidden behind stone cold features. Then,the dragonic being snorts and shakes his head to and fro. “You do not understand that of which I endure. It is not a simple ‘I go to therapy and come back all better’ situation. This, this is a curse,” he responds, his head shifting again at a child’s coo. They seem...odd. Different. Cory isn’t sure how to feel, but he huffs anyway and slings the corpse into his back, lumbering without denying the request for help.
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