07-14-2018, 01:23 AM
malphas was finally getting around to that weekly task morgan assigned for him. clean the junkyard. he had put it off for so long because it honestly felt more like a chore than anything else and additionally, malphas hated doing things for other people. still, morgan was by far his superior and he felt bad about getting angry at the ice dog for blowing up a bottle of beer.
he inspected trash in the junkyard, but his mind was far away from the task at hand. he couldn't stop thinking about morgan. the dog was a mystery to him, honestly. he acted so strange... and had probably the strongest powers in the clan. he scowled at the thought of powers. he was weak, empty, powerless, and he didn't like to think about it. it wasn't like morgan chose to have his abilities, though, and he relaxed his shoulders.
then he started crying. he wasn't sure why. this overwhelming emptiness grew in him like a cancer, starting in his chest and spreading malignantly to the rest of his body. it was hard to breathe now, and he struggled. focus. stop fucking crying, you pussy, and get back to work. he had barely sorted trash from non-trash when he leaned over a discarded tire, letting the tears drip silently down his face. he couldn't even sort trash. he hated himself and had an overwhelming urge to just take some sharp thing and slash his own jugular. his vision blurred as he couldn't find a reason not to die except for one thing. finish the fucking weekly task first, you dumbass.
and so he continued working.
he inspected trash in the junkyard, but his mind was far away from the task at hand. he couldn't stop thinking about morgan. the dog was a mystery to him, honestly. he acted so strange... and had probably the strongest powers in the clan. he scowled at the thought of powers. he was weak, empty, powerless, and he didn't like to think about it. it wasn't like morgan chose to have his abilities, though, and he relaxed his shoulders.
then he started crying. he wasn't sure why. this overwhelming emptiness grew in him like a cancer, starting in his chest and spreading malignantly to the rest of his body. it was hard to breathe now, and he struggled. focus. stop fucking crying, you pussy, and get back to work. he had barely sorted trash from non-trash when he leaned over a discarded tire, letting the tears drip silently down his face. he couldn't even sort trash. he hated himself and had an overwhelming urge to just take some sharp thing and slash his own jugular. his vision blurred as he couldn't find a reason not to die except for one thing. finish the fucking weekly task first, you dumbass.
and so he continued working.
malphas + henri + amnia