NOW THE TURN IS MINE / ooc prompt, open

[ADAKIAS]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px; padding-right: 8px; font-family: timesnewroman;"][size=8pt]Experiencing the emotions she had felt only days ago following the thoughts of her mother had been quite the roller-coaster for Sylvina's young mind to get over. It wasn't like Aphra had that compelling of a reaction to her daughter's every day feelings (quite frankly, she didn't focus on the older female whatsoever) - it had just so happened that mother dearest was her body's own scapegoat that had triggered a switch within. The intensity of the situation from a simple mundane notion had spiraled out of control, leaving the Bengal a co-pilot on her own crashing plane. It was absolutely suffocating and she was searching for any plausible solution to bargain with her brain's ability to allow her some sort of relief for the situation. Unfortunately the answer to snapping her out of the initial perturbation was one that was all but foreign to her innocent self.

It was obvious that, in the moment, Sylvina couldn't contain herself or her actions; the slaughtered duckling was evident of that. Her violent outlash towards the innocent creature was unlike the youth's personality ... She adored wildlife and being around as many native creatures to the island as she could. It was always a calming feeling knowing that the animals held a special connection to the land in the same way she held a place within the Typhoon. If they brought her such joy, Sylvina couldn't berate her mind enough to wonder why had she done it.

Why did she kill that innocent bird? The duckling was simply curious of a situation, unknowing of how unstable the kitten had been. She tried to tell herself time after time that it was an accident like Aita had assured at the scene .. But in truth, Sylvina wasn't sure if that statement held any value. She had aimed her blow at the bird, killing it with her own freewill. Of course her mind hadn't been exactly there; it was as if she was in a coma within an active body. The only opinion that eased her mind was that she was sick during that time-frame and wasn't herself.

She tried not to think about it.

Instead, Sylvina was consuming her mind elsewhere in a task that would hopefully bring some sort of closure for her scattered mind. She had heard that having a hobby was medicating, and the kitten was all for finding a solution. The anxiety attack felt embarrassing for the spirited soul and she would do anything not to have the same encounter, especially if she could prevent it by any means. 

The she-cat was sat down where the sandy beaches met the jungle's soil, paws digging quickly into the ground. Beside her body were a bunch of carefully dug up flowers that she aimed to plant once she had enough holes. It was tedious work for a small creature such as herself, but eventually - and hopefully with a little help - she'd have a garden going in no time.

[Luciferr]

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You will always be a monster, there is no turning back from it.
But what type of monster you become is entirely up to you -

Lucifer was well acquainted with the acts of killing innocent creatures with what seemed not your own will - indeed he could never sleep now because of what haunted behind his eyes, never mind that his will had been forced - it had still been his claws to strike the final blow and end the fleeting mortal life short before its planned death.

so he did not judge others for when they were not in their right minds - he himself still had bad days where he could never be sure everything around him wasn't some sort of elaborate fantasy of a mind still trapped.

so happening upon the busy Sylvinia, the dragon made no comments merely inclined his head with a gesture to her hole digging "would you like some assistance?" the efforts to gardening would be quicker perhaps - though handling small delicate flowers was somewhat beyond claws designed for inflicting harm.

TAGS • PLAYLIST • LARGE DRAGON • TYPHOON / CREWMATE

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© LEXASPERATED

[ARGUS]

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ sᴄʀᴏʟʟɪɴɢ

dissociation. The term they were looking for dissociation. Feeling not yourself in a near out of body experience. Closely associated with feelings of anxiety or bouts of depression. Argus vaguely recalls reading the definition in a book when they were little, and a little away from them in a pit a prisoner played the violin with the strings of their heart on their wrists. bleeding out. of course argus saved them- it wouldn’t do well to have dead test subject. But that was not the point here. No the point was that a kid- a kitten thought they could bury the smell of blood with dirt on their paws.

Argus is attuned to blood, has lived in it- lived for it. Argus does not use her senses so much as she does her sixth sense of aura reading and to the extend- reading souls, but before they ever learned how to hunt- before they ever took to eating beyond creature needs Argus learned by blood. Hunting, and hurting and hurting. Getting hurt hurting others. Everything can be simplified by the fact of blood or not. Blood means danger- blood means excitement. And Argus follows it like a bloodhound.

To find it coming from a kid- a kit makes their blood boil. It makes them inexplicably angry. Although it shouldn’t- it’s happened before it happened to them when they were little and it doesn’t make argus feel any better. It makes them more angry. Bubbling broiling and a dark cauldron filled with hate that fuels something Argus cannot name that never really died. Never got rest.

Lucifer is an anchor in a way that keeps them from getting lost in the anger. It shows in the way that the white form of the deputy can be seen ducking between tall abyssal limbs like a kit trying to see the sun between the shade of their parent’s legs. Argus leans. Subtle and glancing but there all the same. he is there in the same way the kid is. Still whole and alive and not broken. Still has parents still has hope. Blood does not mean death here. It does not meant the corruption of them. 

but it could. It could and you don’t want to kn ow do y o u-

no.

stop.

and the thoughts stop as suddenly as they started. Dark red eyes looking forward- watching as the kit dug another small shallow hole. Too low for a grave, and flowers beside them, does not hide the smell but it makes a good cover. and argus breathes it all in. The blood, the dirt the sand- the flowers. And grounds themselves in the present before they allow their thoughts to drift into darker territory.

“We’ve got a herb garden somewhere in the jungle i think, but a flower garden would be a perfect addition to the clan. Don’t you think?” the deputy hums in mellow tune, low octave. A pleasant amused smile across their features.

I LEARNED THE VOICES DIED WITH ME