the graveyard growing over everything [ x ] open

[tori]

Ah, he hated loneliness. It was such an exhausting feeling, not as aggressive as his anxiety or fear, but a gradual drag downward until eventually he'd be completely numb probably. But he knew he still had company, everyone within the Ascendants with him and Onision of course, but it was still there, that miserable sense of emptiness. He contributed it to Suite and Marg's deaths, once they were gone he felt like something had been lost. Maybe he didn't have much at all in this life and just lost most of it.

He'd pitifully locked himself up in the days following the tragedy, speaking so little that it began to hurt when he tried, so he just continued to not do so, like a vicious cycle of silence. Alexander knew he would fade from existence like this, eventually his body would rot away and his place in the memories of everyone else would be quick to follow. And that's just how it was, how it was most likely meant to be. It's not like he was born with a purpose or came out of the womb as a sparkling child with redoubtable potential. He'd been a shadow since day one. Natural selection should've sniped him before he even came to this place.

It was that disheartened soul that brought on the problems he was facing the consequences of now, which was a bad case of malnutrition. Alex was, to put it bluntly, not eating nearly as well as he should have, even with a runt's body. A path of mental to physical deterioration, and one quiet boy collapsed, half conscious, deciding he'd rather have been rotting somewhere out in the wild.

♡♡♡

[imperia]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px;"]Suiteheart and Margaery's deaths should never have happened. Imperia still thinks of them sometimes, and wonders why those wonderful women were taken away. So many people loved them, relied on them--it was unfair. But Peri knows in her heart that everything happens for a reason. The Maker allows bad things to happen so that people know when good times finally come around. Life is a constant balance of good and bad, right and wrong, and everything in between. The she-wolf knows better than to question it. All she can do is what is within her abilities and to accept the things which are beyond her control.

But how does one explain this sort of thing to a child? To a youth who has yet to understand the fragile balance of life and death? Imperia noticed a couple days ago that Alexander has yet to heal over the deaths of Suit and Margy. His current physical state alarms her, and she wasted no time in preparing to help nurse him back to help in whatever manner she can.

"Salut, mon petit chou," greets the lovely she-wolf as she approaches the young boy. "Since it has been getting a bit cooler, I thought you would like some roasted pheasant." It is home-cooked and freshly made, a faint cloud of steam rising from the top of the wicker basket which now rests between her paws. Imperia does not outwardly accuse him of failing to monitor his health just yet, and instead chooses to take the less offensive path for now. "How are you feeling, mon cheri?" she asks, her voice gentle and soothing. Maybe he will speak with her, maybe he won't. It is worth trying, at least.

[trojan g.]

It was fairly soon after Imperia showed up that Roman followed, his ears pricked slightly as he limped over, concern washed upon his face at the young male's appearance. Roman knew of heartache and missing another to the extent of not taking care of one's self, but he also knew of healing and missing the other in a healthy manor. It seemed as though many of the children of the clan knew of the first, but not the latter, but they would find out in time, if their ways changed and they didn't kill themselves first.

Roman would listen to the words that Imperia spoke, looking over towards Alexander with hope that he would take the pheasant, eat one or two bites at least. He cared for the boy, wanted him to be okay, wanted him to heal, but he had to help himself first. "Even if you're not that hungry, take one or two bites, please." He'd speak up at last, coming to sit beside Imperia, nursing his missing leg carefully so that it didn't sting when it hit the ground.

[ONISION.]

[table]
[tr]
[td]

[/td][/tr][tr][td]

ASCENDANTS
- FIREBALL
7 MONTHS OLD

PHYSICALLY varies
EMOTIONALLY hard
MENTALLY easy

DEMIHOMOSEXUAL
HOMOROMANTIC

TSUNDERE ASSHOLE
SHORT-TEMPERED
WERE-VAMPIRISM
TAGS

[/td][/tr][/table][table][tr][td][table][tr][td]

♦ -
People had kept him far away from Alexander for the past few days. He was the one who lost his mothers, he had the right to mourn as well, but he couldn't comfort his own boyfriend? Who cares if he was going to punch anyone who got in his way!

"Oni, you're on probation, try not to hit anyone." Came the soft warning from an NPC that had been nagging him all day about his choice of actions. He wanted to punch someone, to just get everyone out of his way so he could just.. Comfort Alex. Alex needed the support. He hasn't even been eating well.

Onision's presence soon became known at the doorway of Alex's room, but he made no move to step inside. He knew Alex would probably be overwhelmed with the number of visitors in his room, so he just sat to the side of the door, his voice a mere whisper for the wolf to hear.

"I know it hurts, Alex. I'm sad, too. I'm sad, they were my moms, y'know.. And now they're gone, we all have to live without them now, as much as I hate it, as much as everyone else hates it. But we all love you. Please eat, my love." Oni meowed out softly, his tone taking a softer turn for his childhood love. Alex had always had his ways of softening this hard shithead of a piece of butter.

[align=center]YOU'RE HARD TO HUG

[/td][/tr][/table][/td][/tr][/table]

ONISION MIKAELSON-FOLIE
tough to talk to, and i never fall asleep!

© ceilidh

[tori]

The smell of the pheasant was delicious, Alex's tail wagged gently in response to Imperia and her food, looking up with a tired soft brown gaze. He lifted his head up, opening his mouth once but closing after he couldn't bring himself to speak. His stomach growled violently at him, the scent of the pheasant overwhelming him. He scooted closer, sniffing at the basket before pulling a piece off with his teeth carefully.

He was grateful to the group gathered for being rather quiet, but they were still here. He wasn't in the mood to be scolded. Although seeing Oni out and about raised his spirits a little, then immediately back down again when he felt guilty once Onision realized the full extend of his health currently. "Eating must've slipped my mind." Alex addressed no one in particular, taking another bite of the bird, this time a slightly larger one, running his tongue over his teeth. "Sad..." He blinked, keeping a completely neutral expression despite the topic at hand and associated feelings. "I suppose I feel sad. I feel many things, little Icarus. It's tiring."

"I am fine." He insisted, turning his attention to Romanempire. They were not going to let him waste away, he was sure of this. But he selfishly didn't want them to worry, either. Surely there was more productive things to do. "Or at least, I will be. You don't need to worry, I do not demand concern."

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