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and he waddled away / return - Grimm - 10-19-2018 [align=center][div style="width:450px; font-size:8.6pt;line-height:1.2; color:#000;font-family:calibri;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Is a monster created by external input, uncaring want drawing one in, pulling at the threads that tie one into the aspects which permit them sentient thought, or is it something given life from the beginning, seed caught within permitted the chance to flourish only with the ceaseless flow of time. There is no simplistic answer drawn from such a thing, inquiry fell upon heavy tongue that moved it about, painting cheeks and touching upon lips left cracked and dry. Doubt swelled about the ragged edges, tugged at time and time again as the mind turned back to it, seeking answer never to be given. But it was there, automatic answer given though it fit not the structure of question, words there for it was nothing more then a knee jerk reaction. I'm a monster. It mattered not what things had been drawn together, be it the nature within the way he acted and viewed the world, moulded by experience that had brought only the savage heat of pain, or the lack of guide, lost within those early days. Dark head rose from where it had rested atop stretched legs, shaking for a brief moment to rid himself of the thoughts but it lingered on the edges. Brief was the raise of memory, the chill of night broken by the sudden heat of skin, teeth breaking through. Faint murmur of sound drawn from clenched teeth and he was moving, given no need for prompt, pulling himself from the space between roots. A few days had passed since Harland had left the sea side town, the hush of the sea fading until the murmur of wind took hold, heavy travel with minimal chance to give himself time to rest across a land he barely remembered. The first time he had been unconscious for the most part, mind drawn back in brief moments. Finally things seemed to grow familiar, trees opening into wide expanse of a field dotted with flowers uncaring for the cooler weather slow to draw about the land, touches of colour amongst the green. Yet something had stopped him, hesitant as he stood upon the edge of the thicket of trees, left looking upon the large structure he had called home for some time now. And so Harland had chosen to spend the night within the trees, curled in the space made by roots that had worked up through the earth, listening to others as they passed by, voices familiar, a soft lull that gave him a chance to simply rest. Wide golden eyes blinked, watching the speckled light dance across the leaf litter, contemplating returning. Pain had begin to work through where the skin of his shoulder had been opened, not an overly large injury but enough, mirror image to that he had left upon Bucky, and wrapped around what was left of his leg. Though it had begun to heal still was it clear the injury needed tending to a degree he couldn't handle alone, all of it enough to drive the young Fireball to leave the cover of the trees. “Hello...?” Gentle thought, crackling edges pushed forth, steps stumbling. It mattered not that he had slept well the night before and he had finally fed still it drained him, pushing even so simple a message out enough to drain what energy was left. Heavily the bombay fell upon his hindquarters, some distance still from the observatory, wondering for brief moment what kind of reception he would receive. Re: and he waddled away / return - ONISION. - 10-20-2018 [table]
[tr] [td] ONISION M.F. — WHEN WE'RE IN YOUR BED the ascendants - lunar lieutenant mentors watson 10 months old physically varies easy to piss off demihomosexual homoromantic tsundere asshole dating alexander were-vampirism known to shift into aloysius
Hello? Harland's voice was first to reach Onision's ears, the telepathic call of silent help causing the feline to shoot up from his bed with Alexander, nudging his boyfriend in apology before he raced out of their shared room, darting down the Observatory's hallway. "I'm coming, Har! Stay there!" Onision called back out to his nephew in a rushed manner, the telepathic message quick and simply there before it disconnected again, the werevampire racing out of the doors of the Observatory to find the familiar form of Harland. His nephew by blood, it seemed. Or was it adopted? He didn't know, but Harland was a Mikaelson, and as odd as it was, Onision was happy to see the male home again. When he had arrived, Onision was heaving chilly breaths from his chest as he came to an abrupt stop in front of the other feline, a rare smile of relief on his face. "Tibi gratias ago tibi tutum Deorum.." He spoke in soft latin, reaching out to try to pull Harland close to his chest, aiming to hug him gently. Moon would be happy to see his son had come back, to see Harland's exhausted face merely made Oni worry even more. "What happened? Are you okay? Did they hurt you, Har?" Onision asked, his voice breathy and worried as he gestured for the male to climb onto his back if he needed. Oni could carry him back, he could. Only if he wanted to, though. all you give me is a heartbeat — [/td][/tr][/table][W]isker Re: and he waddled away / return - MOONMADE - 10-20-2018 [size=9pt]It's been cold in the Observatory. The floors are icy to walk on. You'd think, with the amount Moon's been pacing them, that they'd of warmed up by now. But no. Maybe it's because he's got cold paws. Yeah. That's probably it.
Everything's been bad. Meaning his head is throbbing and his eyes are sore and his body feels lax when he walks, like it's being held up by stilts that are starting to splinter with his weight and he'll crash down to the ground, soon enough. Smash his head against the stone floor and knock himself out. He wouldn't mind that, right now. With all the dead bodies turning up, he'd blend in. A plus was that paranoia, anxiety, guilt-- they didn't exist in the afterlife. Only massive three-headed dogs and pomegranate seeds. It's ridiculous and he knows it. The fact that he's crashing so fast. Plummeting to the ground at lightning speed, faster than anyone that came before him ever has. He feels weak like he never has before. On this day, in particular, it's hitting hard. His steps are stumbling as he drags himself down the hallway, feeling like the last few chugs of an ancient engine before it stumbles to a spluttering halt. And when he hears Harland's voice it's his last drop of energy that carries him to the kitten, but when he sees him, alive, it's worth it. "You're back." Breathes the lion, sounding painfully relieved. The sides of his lips start to tilt upwards, and suddenly he's not thinking about murders or alliances or responsibilities, and instead he's tripping forwards, lowering himself close to the ground in front of the kitten. He desperately wants to reach out and pull him against his chest, make sure to never let him leave ever again, but Moon knows boundaries when it comes to Har, so he holds back, studies him with frantic eyes. "Tell me they didn't hurt you, Har." Re: and he waddled away / return - Grimm - 10-23-2018 [align=center][div style="width:450px; font-size:8.6pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:calibri;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:.5px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]A road permitting passage one way, traffic directed out rather than in. From the beginning had it been such, a way to permit him a shallow connection, enough the words may reach others yet never may they get within the loose hold barring them from thoughts beneath the chosen message. There had never been such before, intrusion as words unfamiliar found root, curled about his thoughts and pushed them all aside, seeking his attention. I'm coming. Simple words, given frantic beat, there when only moments before the quiet of unease had caught within his mind. The feeling of it was strange to say the least of it, feeling such intrusion breaking through, brief entry before it was fading. Only seconds, time enough the words may be passed, but it seemed almost more time had passed, condensed into a few beats of a heart quick to race. Within the loose top soil claws dug grooves, gentle sound escaping clenched teeth. There was time enough for him to calm a fraction, breath caught for a few seconds before it was pushed out, intake sharp as another rose. Heavy was it, as his had been though for different reasons, breaking apart within familiar words. He knew not the meaning, found them nothing more than faintly musical tones, lips moving though no sound was permitted to pass them. Gentle touch encircling him, drawing him closer until all he could see was the soft tone of chocolate, deep and rich, warm as his cheek pressed against the Lieutenant's chest. For a few brief moments he lets himself relax, leans further into the touch before the need is there. None may deem Harland one that welcomed such things, contact, even within moments as these as the first sob broke through clenched teeth, minimal. Slowly he pulled away, quirk to pale lips stilling as another voice rose, golden turning to find their match. “Momo...” Faint whisper, wince curling about gentle features. It had been a great deal of time since last he had spoken such, permitted a nickname given without second thought, raising now as tears drew tracks along dusty coal toned cheeks. Though there was hesitance in the other there was none within him, paws reaching with intent to curl around Moon's neck, leaning forward until his head was nestled comfortably in the crook of it. Brief shake, movement sure to be felt, yet skin pulled. Easy was it to see the break where the injury had formed, a scab now as it healed, a mirror to that he had left upon one he deemed brother. How such would be taken, the slight trick of blood as it opened a small bit once more, lost upon the child, wanting only for this to never end. |