06-21-2018, 11:09 PM
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Watch the fires rise under my skin
Down to the bone - Scorchin' my soul!
[W]iskerWatch the fires rise under my skin
Down to the bone - Scorchin' my soul!
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"] Most nights, Argus only wanted to be alone. And she had been... distant lately. She knew- although she was not there to be alongside Pincher during the latest meeting he had noticed her absence too. A simple warning wasn't enough to knock her out of her thoughts though, wasn't enough to stop the voices screaming nor her own will to push away from the tide they created- dragging her deeper under herself and into their made doubt. Into blame the insanity, without reason. Argus could not say it was with knowledge that Pincher's death would take place, that it was foreknowledge that something was amiss within the world that she choose to seclude herself- to minimalist the damage to her already fragile mind.
And she was- she knew so very fragile. No mater how hard she pushed to show otherwise Argus was a weak minded individual. Layers of hurt and hurting and so much blame without anyone to point it to- no one to blame but herself did not make her weaker, but it did not make her stronger. It only made her more restless to the point she felt the aggression arise even to the people she was meant to protect now. But oh her mind screams- and tells her everything she's afraid of happening. Filling her head with images of what ifs.
Obscuro was sometimes a voice of reason out of all of them, but here and now as shadows cast along the beach she was subjected to Obscuro's blame of clan. Of her single minded loyalty breaking her, whats to say it wouldn't happen again? wouldn't happen to Argus? They will betray you. When they realize- when you show them an inch of teeth they will turn their backs. They will burn us out like they always do. A beast and fire- never get along.
And Zactov is always clicking, always itching at the corners of her concentration until her eyes blur with emotion. Till her vision tints and the whispers are the only thing that feels real. Insanity an infection in their blood to spread- to free them all and it tells them to lash out- to enjoy the beast that she was created to be. Become the monster they need- unite under a common enemy- she was a big enough monster for them all, she knew them well enough to know where she needed to hit where to make it hurt.
There was no way to ground herself. There was no longer the little voice meek and soft that seemed to echo into their mind. Whisper was miles away and Argus felt herself crack under the pressure slowly. She just hoped she was getting better at hiding it. Better and better at simply watching and nothing else. that is our job, watch and assess. No judge, no execution, no action.
She could sit and dabble within the lives of mortals but it would never change. They all would rot- soft flesh pealing away to bones that Argus would gnaw their tales onto. Taking their ghosts and bringing them with her. Letting her mind fill with more screaming, more people to tell her just how horrible of a animal she was, how monstrous and savage and-
Here, there would have been a soft little voice echoing no. There would be a cold feeling of a desert in the nighttime, the chilly wind reaching within the tunnels of her old dens. Here- Whisper should have spoken up in the back of her mind and eased the unbalance within them. But whisper was gone. She was alone to her thoughts- to Obscuro and Zactov- and they were jealous they were furious. They wanted free.
It was very rare that Argus would take to drinking to fix her problems. Lowering her inhibitions if only caused more problems, and it rarely often worked out for her. Her high metabolism didn't let her get drunk for long. She drank often- sure, but not enough to get drunk- never enough to get drunk- there was very little enough booze to go around if she was searching to drink herself into a stupor as often as she drank. But booze had a sour taste that helped curb her loose tongue, and sometimes she never even realized she was drunk until she felt the soft fuzziness around her thoughts. Until she could pick up the scent of booze even as she polished off her next glass.
The Capricorn Tavern wasn't the place she found herself either. Barracuda bay however was close enough it could be taken that she had stumbled from there. Usually dark dull red eyes were brilliantly flashing. The sour note in the air had yet to fade and the grin that edged across her features was carefree. Kind in a way that Argus was usually so guarded- open where once she would be closed off. In her paws was a smooth sandstone. Soft enough to carve away with her iron claws, but solid enough to not give away when she accidentally dropped it. The Tiki, she was carving a small little tiki. For who she wasn't entirely sure. Herself? The roux bunch? Gods maybe they all needed one. Her head was too fuzzy to remember, just that it was important, just that she didn't want to talk about it. Maybe giving someone a tiki was a polite way of telling someone to shut up? Should she make that into a necklace to wear then? It would pair well with her dog tags, wherever those ran off too. The strange symbols on them depicting her old name along with the various titles she earned while running that cult- very much on point with... aesthetic? Was that the word?
And she was- she knew so very fragile. No mater how hard she pushed to show otherwise Argus was a weak minded individual. Layers of hurt and hurting and so much blame without anyone to point it to- no one to blame but herself did not make her weaker, but it did not make her stronger. It only made her more restless to the point she felt the aggression arise even to the people she was meant to protect now. But oh her mind screams- and tells her everything she's afraid of happening. Filling her head with images of what ifs.
Obscuro was sometimes a voice of reason out of all of them, but here and now as shadows cast along the beach she was subjected to Obscuro's blame of clan. Of her single minded loyalty breaking her, whats to say it wouldn't happen again? wouldn't happen to Argus? They will betray you. When they realize- when you show them an inch of teeth they will turn their backs. They will burn us out like they always do. A beast and fire- never get along.
And Zactov is always clicking, always itching at the corners of her concentration until her eyes blur with emotion. Till her vision tints and the whispers are the only thing that feels real. Insanity an infection in their blood to spread- to free them all and it tells them to lash out- to enjoy the beast that she was created to be. Become the monster they need- unite under a common enemy- she was a big enough monster for them all, she knew them well enough to know where she needed to hit where to make it hurt.
There was no way to ground herself. There was no longer the little voice meek and soft that seemed to echo into their mind. Whisper was miles away and Argus felt herself crack under the pressure slowly. She just hoped she was getting better at hiding it. Better and better at simply watching and nothing else. that is our job, watch and assess. No judge, no execution, no action.
She could sit and dabble within the lives of mortals but it would never change. They all would rot- soft flesh pealing away to bones that Argus would gnaw their tales onto. Taking their ghosts and bringing them with her. Letting her mind fill with more screaming, more people to tell her just how horrible of a animal she was, how monstrous and savage and-
Here, there would have been a soft little voice echoing no. There would be a cold feeling of a desert in the nighttime, the chilly wind reaching within the tunnels of her old dens. Here- Whisper should have spoken up in the back of her mind and eased the unbalance within them. But whisper was gone. She was alone to her thoughts- to Obscuro and Zactov- and they were jealous they were furious. They wanted free.
It was very rare that Argus would take to drinking to fix her problems. Lowering her inhibitions if only caused more problems, and it rarely often worked out for her. Her high metabolism didn't let her get drunk for long. She drank often- sure, but not enough to get drunk- never enough to get drunk- there was very little enough booze to go around if she was searching to drink herself into a stupor as often as she drank. But booze had a sour taste that helped curb her loose tongue, and sometimes she never even realized she was drunk until she felt the soft fuzziness around her thoughts. Until she could pick up the scent of booze even as she polished off her next glass.
The Capricorn Tavern wasn't the place she found herself either. Barracuda bay however was close enough it could be taken that she had stumbled from there. Usually dark dull red eyes were brilliantly flashing. The sour note in the air had yet to fade and the grin that edged across her features was carefree. Kind in a way that Argus was usually so guarded- open where once she would be closed off. In her paws was a smooth sandstone. Soft enough to carve away with her iron claws, but solid enough to not give away when she accidentally dropped it. The Tiki, she was carving a small little tiki. For who she wasn't entirely sure. Herself? The roux bunch? Gods maybe they all needed one. Her head was too fuzzy to remember, just that it was important, just that she didn't want to talk about it. Maybe giving someone a tiki was a polite way of telling someone to shut up? Should she make that into a necklace to wear then? It would pair well with her dog tags, wherever those ran off too. The strange symbols on them depicting her old name along with the various titles she earned while running that cult- very much on point with... aesthetic? Was that the word?
