SOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!

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[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"] So, I was liberate with Argus falling in and out of sleep- but just for clarification it ends with her still in the dream / implied she's in her quarters thrashing out and about. Quick info- Kanato? is a dead kid of her's. Willow? Is another of her dead kids from a different litter. Whoo boy- Enjoy the "fluff" yall voted for. //

Argus had never attempted to be good. She had always claimed she was as bad as the worst parts of her. The thing was no one here really asked her about it. No one attempted to make deep conversation beside the surface level questions. And that was fine- Argus did not need someone else to know to know it herself. Someone else knowing would not stop her own blame, nor her own guilt on the matter. On the things she has done- the things she could still do. The damage wrought on by the white being that was anything but pure. Anything but justified in something so simple as guilt.

Argus is considered very simple when first glazed upon- it was simply easy to label her as crazy-mad--deranged normal under the pretexts of the clan. And you would be completely right in thinking so. But, Argus fell into insanity gracefully, all things considered, the simple fact that she wasn't always this way would've been expected, it wasn't like someone could be born evil, right? Right. There was always a cause, always some inkling within their upbringing and one single moment were they fell into their role that submitted their impact. Nonexchangeable- inexcusable reactions. Deciding the instinct of an animal. One must ponder what it was that turned her into the beast she now was, slumbering softly as red eyes closed, an impression into her mind. Not blue.

But everyone here had a history. This clan- this... place was built upon by rouges coming and going through it. Joiners, Enemies, refugees. Argus had been one of the first to come here and witness the Foundation party. The ship freshly anchored onto the dock as flame danced and voices chatted away the night. Sea-folk settling onto land. Argus was there and while she was not on that boat with the rest of them- with the captain and those before him. She had enough experience to know near every face. To experience every culture that they brought with them and learn side by side with her new crewmates.

Somehow she had grown with them, once a closed shell; Still trying to configure her footing into this world. Stumbling from the ashes Obscuro had left in their wake- Zactov’s laughter bubbling up her throat had eased. She had learned each newcomer’s name as the settlers had learned hers. Welcomed them home all the same in the way Argus felt welcome. It was new then, with her own betrayal fresh on her mind unstable- she eased over time. Over time Argus learned trust. An old word her parents had used when they turned their backs, that demons offered when they stole her sight. Her friends- her family used before she hurt them. A word that she used, to lure countless to their own demise.

It felt, wrong to use that word here again. But the typhoon had it’s own way of shoving her scars to the forefront of her life. Reopening her scabs until they healed- and healed correctly. Family, abandonment, hunger, fear- trust. Guilt still made each of her paws shake. Guilt still kept her still, cognizant and content to allow herself to stew.

Guilt kept her from ever sleeping peacefully.

In the darkness of her own mental scape- dream scape was overshadowed with it, and the officer was aware of the growing anticipation as the darkness fell away, it wasn't much of a surprise to find herself in the soft sands of her last home before this one. Before the typhoon were she was finally learning how to open her eyes again. She let out a deep sigh as the sounds of the sea buzzed between her ears, soft and lazy- she wondered if Anakin’s hammock was anywhere around-

The black wolf moved slowly, letting her pawsteps smear into the sand where once they were trackless- easy- eased. Her edges all soft and her eyes brilliant azure. She looked to the tree’s around her for the clothed bed that swung between them- moving towards the sight of it.

it was only when the beast took notice of the soft sound of paw steps behind her that she stopped dead. There was no mistaking who had done that before- it was still the reason why she could never psychically look behind her-and not bear to see that small form was gone- that they weren’t there anymore. Either it was the fact that she stopped, or that she knew she wasn't looking back, a timid voice rose above the SCREAMING in her head.

"Mom... ?"

no-[sup]no[/sup]-nO-no[sub]no[/sub]no--

Outwardly- in the real world her body twitched, claws digging foothold into the sands underneath, nostrils flaring slightly. Nightmares were never common with Argus- but when she had them she -THRASHED--

And when ArgusObscuro(because she was still a mother in this dream, still scorning her family by creating one of her own- by being better- by not leaving, by staying and watching them all fall and die in front of her. Maybe she should've left, maybe her parents were right about something for once.) finally had the courage to look behind her, she knew- she knew.

Because suddenly the blue sky was shattering, and a roof made of roots were crushing in on her, old tomes stacked as high as they could in her old den-in her desert den, and one small skull was placed on one such stack, one that was freshly white (The rest of the body was burning in the sands coated in black because she never wanted her mate to see- it was better to pretend Kanato was still missing, don't get rid of that hope)

And willow coughed from behind her- the smoke drowning them both in the dog as Obscuro couldn’t move. Frozen in fear as a blackened pup walked over- Willow meeting Kanito. Her two darling kids. So brave and unflinching as she gnetly picked the skull. Brown soft eyes like her father looked up to beet azure blue- gods they were still burning. But willow would not let her move- she was dead and damned she would- spiteful little daughter that she was- spoiled but never enough for her -more - what are you hiding from me mom? Why are you afraid? What did i do wrong- what did i dO WRON-

So this is what you were hiding.

//Maybe one day I'll write out the intricacies of all her dead kids and what kinda trauma it added to her. But that day is not today//

SOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!

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[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"] Dreams were horrid in that they were fantasies that Argus could not have- could watch through a different set of eyes but never reach. Nightmares on that spectrum were reminders. The exact opposite in which the officer was put into a situation where she was forced to watch, act without acting- without control. Forced to remeber all the hurt she had done and what she could still do. The reason why she still woke up shaking, unable to look down bloodied paws - look behind So this is what you were hiding / it wasn't your fault.

The past haunted her in a way that she wished she could wipe away. Sometimes she would dream of being ignorant- living without the knowledge of her survivor guilt. It was easy to blame yourself of everything that went wrong in the past- when you were the only one left alive to remember it. She knows what happens when she erases her memories- try to lessen her guilt- she knows. Zactov takes advantage like the devils they had bound them to- possessing controlling. Offering power- answers for a chance of the vessel.

It was easy to wake up from the dreams, but the guilt- the panic the fear was much harder to shake. Cronas' words were bubbling through Willow's voice in her dream, as both her and the skull tinged with ash- brown soft eyes lit blue with power- it was always blue. The same color she now hid behind her red. Wakeup mama. You've got more secrets to hide, other bridges to burn. Caesar's words were so eerily similar to another dream demon that took her kit. Her baby- and it was rage that she felt now, easily consuming all the fear and panic of fire and hurt and channel it into her own form of hurt- defend protect.

Caesar prooded her, and she snapped to with a snarl on her tongue and azure bleeding from her eyes. Her form, that she usually tried to lessen with her wings pressed down, smile close lipped eyes lulled and drowsy now flared to life. Claws scratching at the wooden flooring of the ship she snaped like a rubber band ready to bite the hand of whoever stretched it. For milliseconds she was still stuck inside her dream- facing the monster that took one of her babies and saw threat.

-- It was sad wasn't it? A mother with nothing to protect. A book-keeper with only ashes. A watcher, with too many emotions- too much hurt that she could only watch. Too afraid to act again- too afraid to try to be something other than broken.--

Oh how she wished, preyed and broke for the dream of waking up to be something akin to a distant god, and watch the world with distinct apathy without having a care for mortal things such as feeling and depth. But she was born to be a mortal, and in all her years of living as something else has done little to strip her of her emotions. Little to stop the hurt.

It was a quick snap into awareness, where threat became recognition. And blue drained from her eyes- the officer slowly shrinking onto herself. Back into whatever she was before. The officer of the typhoon. Remembering that there was nothing to protect but the memories of the dead. She reminded herself to breathe again.

Her eyes were no longer as wide as they were when they snapped open, and the color seemed to be even duller in comparison to the same color they usually held. A bright crimson now a dulled red stain. She was silent, watching her two clanmates fill the occupancy of her room in the same way she wanted to dispensary. Not out of avoidance just bone deep Exulansis.

She breathed again, and let reality settle back unto her shoulders.

"Did i... wake you two up or someth'n?" The wolf's voice was hoarse in the way it always has been, almost overused scratchy quality to it. Trying to ignore the jitters in her limbs as she forced herself to sit up and refrain from slumping. So tired but knowing she couldn't fall back to sleep. "Somth' I can do for ya?"