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Writing storage | The watcher's notes - Printable Version

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Writing storage | The watcher's notes - ARGUS - 04-07-2018

The Watcher's Den

"If she could limit her power she could, if she could somehow become mortal again- she would. But she was stuck in a fine balance. Control was so fickle now and her first choice- a clean slate completely was instantly rebutted. A kid would have more of an issue with her powers- to the point that they would cause more harm trying to learn her overwhelming powers. It was a mistake waiting to happen. And Immortality was a curse she was not sure how to fix, if only control she had over it was remembering what she knew after each individual death she was dealt.

She chose to live and remember her first death under this name, and she could not afford to regret it. She weighed the cons and the pros and found a very little difference between the two.
" - Bio

Welcome to the Watcher's den!
[1] This is just a little storage thread for Argus here. Little snippits of writing in the works. Either it be one-shots or responses that i haven't finished.
[2] All of these posts will be spoiling future plots and posts, so if you don't want to get spoiler on ideas for Argus' Character development, don't read anymore!
[3]I'm going to set up a one-shot tracker and Table of contents for this thread. One-shot tracker will be mixed with threads that I really like & Help build development for Argus.
[4] Feel free to track an ask questions here! Feedback in any which way is helpful!

Table of contents - Link tracker
[1] - Mind games
[2] - MY PEACE HAS ALWAYS DEPENDED / ON ALL THE ASHES IN MY WAKE
[3] - I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO PROVE / CAUSE I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LOOSE
[4] - BLOOD ON MY NAME

x link - No where to hide from all this madness - Killua & Argus - Private
x link - Sympathy for the devil - Lucifer & Argus
x link - Spat back the monster that you see - lilypoise & Argus
x link - broken divinity - Kratos & Argus
x link - Aquamarine dream- Argus promoted to deputy
x link - true colors - Lucifer & Argus
x link - Soul collector- Cronas & Argus
x link - I'll take my sanity - Cal & Argus


Outside links !
x - Just some other storages that i use for Argus / have used! Argus is a long standing character so she has a lot of history. Expect this part of the post to fill out a good bit <;

x - AM I NOT DARK ENOUGH FOR YOU? - Old FF storage before transferring her onto BOB
x - AN EYE LOST TO TIME - Re-posting some old Posts from FF that i have stashed in google docs




Re: Writing storage | The watcher's notes - ARGUS - 04-07-2018



Mind Games : o, inituation

((Okay so, in this Argus trips on the god ol' jungle juice! She confronts her inner psyche and the past lives she's lived. But everything said in different colored text- by her past selves she actually says outside the hallucination so if you want to react to her hallucination there's that. ))

Argus has been here a little over a week. Long enough to get a feel of the place, understand the culture around here at least, the starts of it. While she was still considered new- the clan was just starting to get it's legs. She was one of the many that had joined just as they started. She was there the night of the formation party & had a blast while there. She was already considered a part of the crew, even if she wasn't one of the originals from the boat like their captain and first mate. She was still a part of it, one single cell in a whole living breathing organism.

She had been pushing the initiation back due to wanting to see if she could fit- find herself a place within this clan. She did not want to start something she was not committed to, did not want to prove herself to a place she would in moons time consider her enemy. Yet the wolf found herself settling. Not on the cusps on civilization that she used to, but inside the dens. Hidden along other slumbering crew-mates. It was, initially a new experience, but it was welcoming. It was relaxing to listen to others near her sleep. Now she that she had a taste for it she no doubts would have trouble trying to sleep alone again.

It was when the sun was sinking below the waves, that Argus took to the Capricorn Tavern. Pushing to the bar and asking for "entrance". That was what they called it here at least. The bartender gave a little tin cup to her and ushered her outside. Telling her not to return until the sun rose and pointed to the direction of one of the smaller islands next to theirs. Big enough for grass, but not big enough for a tree.

So she took the drink, and swam to the island not far off the coast. Her dark eyes simmering into a full crimson in the dark. There was no glow in her eyes and by the time she reached the island- the drugs had taken over.

When Argus squinted into the darkness she could see the edge of the sky split with the tendrils of the wyrm. Her eyes were tinged with smoke and she exhaled black smog- ash coloring her pelt- fueling her lungs- filling it. Ash and blood soaked into her fur- searing into her mind and she took it in greedily. Each lungful she felt shudder through her from breath into her a different kind of life.

Creatures of the afterlife screamed in the distance and the shinigami- the hollow in her ached to join along. The ache of hunger crippling, her steps faltering as she tried to run to the mainland. Tried to push her conscience clear, but her conscious was clear. Not plagued with the thoughts- the pressing memories of her other's.

She turned suddenly sensing something nearby, it prickled at her side, the sorrow, isolation colored its eyes blue, fur a smokey fur. "I didn't, they left us behind- the left us. What did we do wrong? Why does no one care? I just, i couldn't deal with it." The wolf before her was half her size, wings arched over her fur as the wolf shuttered. Argus felt herself step forward- she was so hungry. "You forgive me, right argus? You know I didn't mean- I didn't mean to make us this way. I thought I thought that maybe, I'd see them there, ya know?"

Whisperpaw touched her neck, the wound still fresh on the first. Blood drenching the sands in a beautiful red. Afterall, this was the wound that killed her first, it was Whisper's doing- her loneliness, her need of a family that pushed her to desperate. Pushed her to this point. They all were suffering for it. "How was I supposed to know... we'd turn into this ?"

Argus watched as the image shifted. Eyes set a darker blue the wound shifting as three diagonal scars ran down her chest. Wingless- blood soaking their back ash and smoke mixing deeper- curling closer towards the pair. The one- the four. Obscuro had a snarl on her lips, vicious and sad- grieving and losing control. Falling apart. "Remeber what they did to us? They took them- they keep takeing them" Obscuro breathed smoke as she looked towards Argus, black meeting white.

"They... I though me being a monster was enough to protect them! I thought that if they feared me- feared us then maybe they would be safe..." Argus took another step, mindless. Wings limp at her sides, dropping along the sand clotting as the sand caught the blood in her feathers. Ash like a second skin breathing it in- they were breathing it in. "I thought i was dark enough... But maybe we need to go deeper. Anything to escape the insanity."

And laughter bubbled through them both, spiraling and unhinged. Ink and tar settled along both of their wrists. Cuts along each wrist- tendons cut, veins contaminated- black blood- black blood. Such a tedious process, but so worth it. The inside reflected the outside. Dark, dark. Blood was red only in name. Red only in others, not because they deserved better- but because red was prey. The name of this one was different. It lingered on their lips. One eye light blue, the other dark blue and green. Her voice cutting- cutting

"[color=#80000]Zactov, Zactov, ZACTOV![/color]" The beast revered their name. dual tones spiraling, the necklace around her neck clicked as the charms clicked together. A collar, but not enough- the wyrm chose them. They must pay the price. The mark of a beast carved onto her shoulder, black blood weeping in her right shoulder. "[color=#80000]Do you want more power, Argus?[/color]" The demon queen hushed. Eyes sparkled with madness as she leaned forward. Pressing close to Argus too close- too close.

"[color=#80000]The wyrm is ver~y busy Ar-go-s.[/color]" The mad wolf croned. And suddenly there were all of them- Each pressing onto her sides. Whispering chanting. Chanting. "This is for them this is for them."

"Try try again. O~h try try again. We're such a masochist, aren't we? So greedy. What of the~m? They made us this way." Argus whimpered, wings quivering as she chanted along. "They did this to us, they did this to us and all we ever do is give. Give sanity, give lives, give give give. What next? What do they want now?"

"Young and sane, Dark a cruel, Insane and spiraling. Who are you argus. Who are we now. What will they do to us now- what will we give them now- what do we have left to give?" The ghosts chanted as ash choked her lungs. As she choked on her own blood, as she stained her blood black. Wounds appeared on her fur, searing her skin. Her left wing was burning, she was getting crushed she couldn't breathe-

The dawn was still. Sun on the immaculate sand. The scent of the beach, of sea-salt and sweet tropical. Argus was still as she watched from the island, a little bottle churned in the seas. She was deathly still, vigil keeping her still until the bottled was just a speck in the sea of blue.

Dull red eyes stared blankly ahead, and she tried to remember what it was to live again. But her thoughts went to the letter. Her scrawl elegant, if not for the same garu that marked it her's. Not her name, but her name all the same.

What will they take this time? What Am I willing to give?

Anything, everything and more
if you find this u are awesome



Re: Writing storage | The watcher's notes - ARGUS - 04-11-2018

MY PEACE HAS ALWAYS DEPENDED
ON ALL THE ASHES IN MY WAKE

Argus was tired in a way that she hasn't been in a long time. In the life-shattering moment of stillness after destroying her home in a fit of rage- in some desperate attempt of controlling a situation that grew too out of hand too quickly. It was that split second that Obscuro had realized she never would be able to live- breathe with such a want of family pressing on her back. There was no telling which side of her- the need for revenge and the need for a family- would ever win. Revenge had almost won, and in the end Obsucro had wanted it. she hates it. hate hate hate

It was hard to say that having a kid was a mistake. Because life was a precious thing. Giving life to willow was never a mistake. No matter the outlook they both had at the time. Their father so blindingly happy and the mother- her- scrambling for purchase outside the border. Making a sudden halt on every raid- every plan she has ever made to destroy her home- just for a chance- just for a sliver of family. When it all fell apart, the father dead - willow Missing she had lived yearning to breathe the sweet smoke of revenge again with brazen vigor.

It was easy to slip into the state where consciousness could not reach her. Where her ghosts buried any regret with their insistent screaming. For the remainder of her life- Obscuro lived there. On the edge of savage and sentient. Rampaging beast so angry she stilled. She could not eat, she could not sleep. Just trembled in rage until the realization was drawn. It was in that clearing Argus was made. Her body still stiff from the transformation, but ash and smoke still clung to her skin. The sins of her past live still an insistent reminder.

Argus felt the same trepidation of rage in her blood, she had the means of it- the capability so far from the edge of losing it she was in the air waiting for gravity to kick in. It pumped in her veins and it chilled her heart. A place that the ghosts of her past selves- her loved ones screams could not reach. A special place to curl into and remember that she is alive She is different but she can very much be the same. If only pushed- if only someone else had the means to push it out of her.

If she could limit her power she could, if she could somehow become mortal again- she would. But she was stuck in a fine balance. Control was so fickle now and her first choice- a clean slate completely was instantly rebutted. A kid would have little control of her overwhelming powers was a mistake waiting to happen. And Immortality was a curse she was not sure how to fix, if only control she had over it was remembering what she knew after each individual death she was dealt.

She chose to live and remember her first death under this name, and she could not afford to regret it. She weighed the cons and the pros and found a very little difference between the two.  She did not regret it, with each passing day she only saw opportunity in this flourishing world. Killua with so much potential, Lucifer and forgiveness.

Kayn and an end to manipulation to the lies she spewed. The typhoon as a diving board and Argus felt her own story unwind with each day. The careful chisel of each clanmate eating away at the walls: the hate the fear. It was breathtaking as it was horrifying.  It's no longer a wonder why clans are to be feared. As bad as the studious hands of her other’s, sanity wavering with each breath-

She… She needed some time away from the clan. Maybe it was way she stayed why she lingered within the snowbounds after confronting the deputy. The initiation still had it’s claws into her, leaving her raw an open. Wounds unseeable beside the frantic flick of her beady eyes. She needed- she had to get away from that clan. The memory of the other's chanting drilled into her core as realization drew- how very much similar to the other's who failed in her place before.

How willing she was to go, destroying any means of help- already she considered the clan her family and seeing the edges of a war brew between them and the tanglegrowth was something she needed to escape from. Maybe when it was all over she would go pay them a visit as well. Beck was certaintly interesting.





Re: Writing storage | The watcher's notes - ARGUS - 04-22-2018

[align=center]

I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO PROOVE--
CAUSE I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LOOSE!
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"]
When Argus blinked her eyes open, she wasn't home. - but she was, wasn't she? This was her home. it called to her home home w e l c o m e h o m e. The sand was white, but under thr grounds was a liquid that stained the surface a bloody red. Red- so much red it stained her pretty dark fur. blACK IT NEEDED TO BE BLA- !

Argus jerked in her sleep.

A growl split across the sands, the sky a pale black in comparison to the wyrm's shade stretching to the sky. Grasping gripping- she felt it tug at her. Felt her wings ripped away- burning. Her left one was on fire- the wyrm was taking the right--

Willow, BladePaw, DeviantMind, Rydia, Jinka, MistakenIdentity, Freepup, Compasspup, Kanato, feitian, Katastre, Bellua, Wilford, Hecate, Milkyway, Gunstar, Jace - s cre a m i ng It was no longer an echo in her head no longer a f i g m e n t but a reality. They were all screaming. Her loved ones. The dead that she carried- they were here- here in this hell with her.

Whisper, Obscuro, Calla, Yami and ----- were all here too

Z----- looked ahead. Bicolored eyes focusing beyond the horizon no cliff- beyond the cliff argus only had memories of. her paws were talking her there. Argus was being brought closer. CLose enough to hear the dry chocked laughter from her other. Her beast. a collar made of iron tied the other to the ground and darkness clung to the surface around them. Eyes flashing. thunder racing her pelt- zap zapzap

Runes danced around in the sand. Writen in black inkblood. Fomori's scream comming into focus. Swirling eyes. Bicolored eyes didn't stray from the ground shadowed face, scars littering her back -fresh -bloodbleeding dying always d y i n g. Za---- babbled off in garu.

Zac---

Zackt--

Z a ck t o v . . .

"Z-"

Argus woke up with the name on her tongue. The name that ghosts screamed at her sayitsayitsayitsayits a y i t Like a curse, bile rose in her throat as her tongue rolled to speak it. Only her jaws clamped shut kept her from uttering a word. Red eyes one light azure blue, one darker shade with green edging around it- looked around at the slumber champers of the camp. A slightly paniced edge to her gaze. Did she utter it in her sleep? Did someone hear?

[W]isker



Re: Writing storage | The watcher's notes - ARGUS - 04-27-2018

[align=center]
[align=center][div style="background-color:#212121;width:90%;overflow: auto;color: #ADD8E6;"]

BLOOD ON MY NAME - !
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"]  And the sky was awashed in shadows. The moon made no apearance- but the stars did not hesitate to bathe the night in it's own light. The lone watcher's footfalls silent along the sands of the beach in compariosion to the gentle humm of the ocean at her side. The watcher's gaze was lensed through it's own glow of heedy red. floodlights of red bouncing across the sand as the lone being lumbered, wings set in a tense folded position as if the world was set across her back.  Argus has had many a night to choose. She had had up to a moon, and with each day the growing desperation clawed her throat raw from holding back screams. Her mind ricocheting across its own walls from keeping in the laughter, her heart knocking with each heartbeat a new mantra. The words on the bottle of her initiation glued to the back of her eyelids and she couldn't take it. She was losing control, spiraling out of whatever path she wanted into something dark and very familiar. The beach's pale sand was darkening. Under her feet. White dissipating into a smokey substance. Black sand that was along the northern part of the border. Treasure Cove.  She grew up killing to live. Among monsters, she found enjoyment in other's suffering. In the desert where they drank the blood of their enemies like ichor from their Red God. They howled and screamed right next to their prisoner's dying gasps and taunted their loving families to get them back. They bred the word revenge. Acolytes of slaughter and war and she was raised to love it. Raised to do the same. Bloodclan. A place where the name was a warning. When enemies stopped short of the border wall to claim the corpses of their loved ones- too afraid to step past the blatant warning provided by the clan's most merciful. Merciful enough to leave something for them to claim. But in that clan- they were still a family. Tightly knit and broken individuals that created a whole. A single unit that could not be divided. Argus at a young age found duty in it. She- left alone by the edges of that border found beauty in the whole writing mass of destruction. It was her first claim to home. The first place she swore to protect with her entier being. To preserve the broken individuals inside just for a hint of the same taste of community.  It was within the sands, in a similar shade of twilight that Argus danced the night away with her crush. Her love's fur as white as Argus' was now. Dugs laced their veigns and and they made an accident that blessed Argus' life with her first ever hope of a family. A night like this four souls greeted her with mom on their tongue. With herblood and some aspect of herself in them. Maybe that was where it all went wrong. Maybe that was the fault in all of her children. The black blood she carried was not meant to be passed on. It was now, within the sands as black as Argus' fur was when she greeted this mortal relm, that she was now hollow. A desperation that would not leave her. It shook inside her every graceful step, it rimmed her eyes every blink and it showed the most by this g a p e i n g  h o l e. She hated it. Hated the way that no matter how easily she could hide her spirit it still lingered on her body. On this physical manifestation to which she would commune with others- they would note the Gap where her breath should stutter. Where any mortal would guard as one of the weakpoints of their life. She h a t e d it. Memories linger- flickers as she gasped and gaped under the darkness of a different light. Where she tore open her heart to the only being she knew old enough to know not only the name she now carried. She wonders what he thinks of her little flaw. Of this blemish on her pure white fur- so much like the daughter she has stolen from him. If the tears and confession of- I have done so much in the name of a family. I am undeserving of one. I abandoned my own, I destroyed yours. Lucifer, I am sorry. SHe wonders if the devil thinks of her and reflects how easy it is that she broke. Under time, under stress, under the pressure of the voices that he had lived with as well. Voices of the damned screaming at them both- she knew. She knew he hated her too- that even now as he tells her it's gone that there is still a spark of that same hate. How he t a u n t s her now. Reminds her of her sins with his presence. She wonders if he takes joy in torturing her now. Wonders how much more she deserves- how much before she falls beyond fixable. before she is pushed beyond the line of savageness to far to return from.  She remembers the cold glare of her daughter. With eyes, the same shade of her father's looked at her with the animosity Argus grew with her secrets. Argus, unable to swallow the faults of her self and her sins. Unable to answer the questions willow pestered her with. Remembers willow's youth how she would set off glitter bombs in her clanmates much to get the approval of her mother. Argus remembers how willow's bright brown eyes flashed the same shade of her mother's and defaulted to the beast that lingered under the watcher's skin. How her willow disappeared under the same shade of twilight as it is now. Wonders if she ever figured out what Argus hid from her. Wonders if willow died with the same shadow of perfect brown or the hateful electric blue that Argus now hides away. Argus was born with the need for blood. Born with the ideology that the justice was just another word for revenge. Where family meant someone you would die for and family didn't necessarily mean blood relatives. But Now- within the twilight shade where Argus is just a speck along the black beach of a forbid area for the entirety of the clan. Now a new need dug into her brain and frayed her senses until ever walking breathing thing was just a morsel to consume. Where the damn hole across her neck was the only reminder of what she was. A hollow desperate thing that lost every single value they once had. Lost the ability to act to move and once quaked with the single boiling of rage in her blood. Her name a mockery of her inability. A watcher- a beast with too many eyes- too many lives and too much power but without a damn without a fraction of ability to c h an g e Now- now she reflects on a more recent event of meeting Killua. The Domestic feline that Argus only had memories of knowing. Between lensed blue she saw red in the setting of the sands. Familiar white fur carrying her son's body towards the border. Bringing with him the start of the end. Argus did not linger on that- drifting her head to when she first saw him on the border. While she was cautious, toying- Killua remained indifferent and unknowing. Turning into conflicted realization and dread as he ran off in the other direction. She wonders when her curiosity allowed that need- of family and companionship to sink its claws into the Snowseeker. Wonders if there is a chance for something honest and real between them even possible with how broken they were. Because when she looked at him he reminded her of a son. The last time she tried to claim someone as her own- it backfired- quite literally. She is afraid of that, ultamaltely. Afraid of breaking something precious or something that could be precious to her. Brittle, the both of them. She was all too aware how a mind like that worked- knew how to make it like that sure but- could she fix it? Could she help the broken little apprentice rid of the voice inside his own head? Did she want to? Would she rather play to it- sink her claws deeper, under his skin mayb- no no more. somewhere, within her consious mind something alerts her to the presence of someone else there. Alone, on the black beach no longer. Argus still stuck within her daze but ceases her paceing. Gaze drifting along the mimicry of the star speckled sky the sea gifted her. The sea from the northern shore of Treasure Cove was so much darker than that of the southern border. An almost nightmarish relfection of their home- if she turned around maybe she'd see- "My Zactov, what a little mess you've made for yourself here." Red pupiless eyes drilled into her own, outlined by bone rather than fur. Antelope like horns instead of ears. The demon grinned with a lipless-skinless smile at her. His voice rough much like iron clashing together in a forge. A ghost of laughter in his voice as he spoke. The demon deranged- driven to it by the betrayal that they both had experienced. Along the beach, demon and immortal met like old friends. "It's my moon again Zactov. Are you ready for it? You did not forget your vow to me- did you?" Here the laughter bounces into a snarl. The dead glimmer in his eyes seeming to dim but the red all-encompassing. He took steps forward, claws cutting through the sand as he pushed forward. Within her frozen expression.  Argus' vow- yes her vow. To give in to her insanity, to send other's to the same. All given to her through the blessing. The wyrm's gift both gifts- her name that she had tried to hide. Blood red tinged her vision- Before she could finish the thought claws sized her chin. Staring into the red gaze of her indebted. "Za̶c̷t̶o͡v̵"