two cubic tons of sand - jellybeans

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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//for the cdc prompt: cemetery

For a while, Feza had grown used to the nightmares that plagued her at night. They tormented, taunted, and mocked her. They raked against the shaky foundation that allowed for her to smile day in, day out, no matter what came across her path. She forced herself to be joyous so other's could be. It was no surprise. She was the self appointed party thrower of Tanglewood. Every time she emerged from her home, chaotic events ensued. She strove to make everyone happy so that she, too, could make her happiness genuine. All the energy spent in the day left her exhausted at night. She didn't fight her nightmares. She couldn't. Her nightmares were always one and the same. Being mocked and taunted and tormented over and over again. It wore on her. She did her best to hide it. Feza's excitable energy could only go so far. It could only last so long before she broke down. It had happened once before. The surprise of it happening again would not be grand.

Today was not that day. Today was the day where her nightmares took a different turn. When she stepped out into the cemetery that always resulted in her being slain, that crystalized lion was not there. Feza was less unnerved by such a thing than she probably should have been. She sat down and heaved a sigh of relief. Finally. Finally there was no claws sinking into her pink fluff, and her eyes being pried from her head, to die over and over again and again. It had been exhausting. Perhaps her punishment for failing the cardboard boxes had finally come to a close? She deeply wished such was the case. Her interest was raised by finally being able to look around the cemetery that surrounded the mansion. She trekked around, not able to read the names. Reading in a dream was impossible. It simply was a thing that could not be done. One of the graves, though, seemed to be open. Her paws kneaded at the edge. How strange. Then she felt a shove, and her face slammed first into the dirt. Her paws pushed her up into a stand. Feza's back was smacked into by dirt. Her wing raised to protect her face from the shower of soil. There the lion was, snarling at her, throwing dirt into the hole. Feza tried to flap her wings to flee, but she couldn't. It was similar to not being able to run in a dream, she couldn't get out. "Stop it, stop it, stop it stop it stop it!"

She awoke with a sharp gasp, breathing heavy. Her chest hurt, and she flung herself from her makeshift bed. Feza's paws rubbed against her head to banish the feeling of dirt coming and coating her eyes. Her hard breathing form hunkered down, shaking and trembling furiously. "Dirt is evil," Feza said when she finally caught her breath. "Filthy and dirty and, and, hah, and," she stammered. Yet she had plans for today. She had been planning to go and get some food herself for once. She barely hunted considering how absolutely terrible at the task she was. Her skills were party throwing and party throwing alone. That was the one thing that she believed she excelled at, and she tried not to grow otherwise. She wasn't about to let that deter her, though. Feza swiftly set to work to come up with something that would prove efficient to get around- at least until her faith in her wings and the ground beneath her was restored.

Feza came hobbling out of her home with a bag that was far too big for her body slung around her shoulders. Within it was melted plates of jellybeans. The vibrant feline set them out, using them as if they were stepping stones to cross a torrent river. A grin was on her face - they were freshly hardened, and not super sticky. The feline grabbed a tile, set it down, bounded forward, and then set another. She, again, was not cleaning up her mess. It was slow and tedious due to Feza's small size. She was only going a tail length at a time, and leaving all the jellybean tiles behind her. Feza hopped all the way back to her home, coming out with even more of the absurd, sticky tiles. Hunting this way was likely going to be a nightmare of it's own right: not that Feza truly was thinking of such a thing at that point in time.

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[wormwood.]

Wormwood couldn't think of a single one of Feza's antics thus far that he had actually enjoyed or hadn't fretted horribly over. He wasn't sure if that was because he was just a stick in the mud, or if it was because Feza was so bad at her party throwing activities that nothing she did was actually that fun. Worm chose to believe that it was the second one, since he knew that he was capable of having fun. Hell, he had fun a lot of the time, especially when he was around others whose company he enjoyed. Feza's events, however? They usually seemed as though they were... poorly planned. Sure, she put a great deal of effort into them, but usually Feza didn't think of the consequences of her actions, nor did she think about why something might be dangerous. It constantly put Wormwood on edge, especially since it was now literally part of his and Feza's jobs to keep people safe. Meanwhile Feza would just throw herself into whatever she wanted to do, without considering whether she was going to end up with all of her limbs broken, or whether she was going to end up hurting others. Still, at the very least, it seemed as though Feza wasn't causing danger this time, she was just sort of... being annoying. To him, at least. Mainly because, as she went back and forth from her home to other places with plates of jellybeans, he found himself very aggravated.

He first stumbled upon Feza's horrible little inventions when he stepped on one, his nose wrinkling at the faint stickiness that clung onto the pads of his feet. He huffed and tossed the plate that had stuck to his foot aside ignoring the way that it clattered against the ground. The lion guardsman then sighed and followed along the line of plates that was in front of him, quite sure he knew exactly where all of it was coming from. Sure enough, he eventually arrived at Feza's house, where she was beginning to toss out more of the plates to use as stepping stones. Grumbling softly, Worm found himself wishing his could pinch the bridge of his nose just to get out the pure frustration he felt at whatever the hell Feza was doing this time, "Feza... what exactly are you doing? Why are you trying to cover our territory in dirty plates of abused jellybeans?" He tried not to seem like he was aggravated, but he very much was, and he wanted to know what the hell Feza thought she was accomplishing with this.

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The snow leopard curled in on herself when she noticed Wormwood approaching. She was having another post nightmare day - she didn't think she could be blamed for being worried about a lion striding over when it was only in her previous dream where one had tried to bury her alive. She swore that she could still feel the dirt showering into her fur, covering her, blocking away the light and starving her lungs of air. The snow leopard was hoping that he would just walk on by and not question what she was doing. He came over anyways. She could feel the annoyance coming off of him in waves. Her ears lowered and expression fell, but she set down another plate and hopped onto it a moment later. Feza took in a deep breath, firming her voice to hide it's shaky state. "I'm not trying to cover the territory, Wormwood. Some people are allergic. I think." Her blue eyes squinted. Was being allergic to jellybeans a possibility? Even if they were heated and purified of all the nasty germs? She wasn't sure. Allergies were a loss on her, they were not something that the vibrant feline grasped. Feza wasn't even sure if she had any, and in truth she deeply hoped that such was the reality. Allergies would stop her festivities, and she couldn't stop for them.

"They're not abused, they're heated. And I... I'm.." Feza trailed off. She didn't have a reason for what she was doing other than the truth. Her feet nervously shifted her weight to the side and then the other. "You see, they're for the.. the.." What excuse did she have? Her expression grew frantic. What sort of festivity could she create out of the jellybean plates? Feza absolutely hated lying, but she wasn't about to admit to her nightmares. There had to be something! There had to be something festive about jellybean plates. "They're for eating! Yes! That's what they're for!" Feza loudly declared. No. That didn't sound right either. "Wait, no, no, they're not for eating, they're all dirty now." Her ears had raised during her delcaration, and her expressions swiftly fell once again. What reason did she have? Did she even need to lie, a part of her questioned. Would the other even care? She doubted it. If anything, the snow leopard assumed that he would merely mock her for such a thing. Silly little weak and pathetic Feza, not able to take a stand against a dream of all things. The cardboard boxes surely would be disappointed in her.

Her tail sweeped behind her, and released a heavy exhale. "Look. I'm not..doing anything festive with these. I..I just don't trust the ground to not cave in right now or my wings to save me if it does. Okay? I was gonna go hunt. Pull my weight or whatever. Maybe some feathers for necklaces." For a moment, Feza's sporadic thoughts burst through. They always did, always coming up with something absurd in the midst of her rambles. "I just don't want to touch the ground is all. And they.. smell nice and would make people happy." The snow leopard wanted to smack herself. Dang it! That would have been the perfect excuse to use. Her expression and gaze lowered, kneading the plate she stood on with her paws once again. She'd said it though. It didn't feel relieving in the slightest, to say her worries. It was not festive nor was it joyful, and it didn't belong in her mentality. Feza couldn't just shove it to the side, which only worsened her pathetic expression. A sniffle sounded, her feathered wings pulled tight to her sides. It aided the downcast countenance that she portrayed, of how her previous joyful demeanor was ever so swiftly extinguished when she admitted to the fault. Feza didn't want to. She fought it with parties, sporadic thoughts, a never ending quest to make everyone happy and smile around her. This was cracking at that mentality, saying it aloud, and it showed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -
THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[wormwood.]

Wormwood had to say, Feza was just an awful damn liar. Perhaps she was better at it when she wasn't recovering from some extremely messed up dream and stammering all over herself, but somehow he very much doubted it. Feza had never exactly seemed like the type to be able to deceive others, and while Worm did not know fully of the brightly colored leopard's past, he could tell that she had been rejected and pushed away quite a lot. Did he blame whoever had hurt her before...? Well, it was sort of debatable, but he did want say yes. As much as Feza annoyed him – near constantly, in fact – he didn't want her to suffer. Still, the lion felt the frown on his muzzle growing more and more as Feza stumbled through excuses and hastily constructed lies, and he shifted his wings before shaking his head, rumbling softly at the other, "Feza... burnt and melted jellybeans don't actually smell that nice. They smell, well... burnt. And for another thing, why are you scared of the... ground? I know the ground of Tangleqood can be a bit... swampy, but it's not as if the whole place is going to collapse. Hell, Red would be pretty pissed if anything collapsed into the bunker." Wormwood quickly shoved away the thought of Red as soon as it came, his ears flattening against his head before he forced himself to relax, not wanting to think about the gorilla that he hadn't seen in... days. Weeks, perhaps. Instead he just sighed and forced a smile, rumbling as he gently stomped one of his paws against the earth beneath him, "Look, see? The ground is just as solid as it was yesterday. What the hell changed? Be honest, Feza."

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]

[arcy]

[align=center]

[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Crowley couldn't claim to know Feza all that well -- and, thus far, he hadn't bothered to. Less because of how she was, but more of because he refused to put in that much effort for much of anyone, yet. It was still strange to see her acting like this.
"Don't think jellybeans would prevent you from falling, anyways," Crowley says, dubious. He can understand the reasoning behind this in an abstract way, but he feels obligated to poke holes in the logic, regardless. It might not be the kindest* way to help, but it comes most naturally. "And i'm not sure hunting like that would even work," There were other ways to "pull your weight" without contributing in the typical way, anyways -- but that felt, almost, too .. not kind, exactly, too something to say.
*not that he'd want to choose the kindest option even if he knew it,

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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"You can't even let me have this, can you," Feza muttered. Her tone broke away from the shaky and false attempt at delight. It had already dissipated when she had admitted to her true reasoning behind setting up all these jellybean plates. It gave way to some sort of near emotionless tone, a broken one, one that did not sound like the voice that Feza always used. Her voice was always light, delighted, a source of neverending joy and delight. It cracked and shattered as the plates would under stress. She shook, tensing, wings folding in on herself as if they would hide her if they touched her ribs. "They are sugary treats, and they smell nice, and they will make everyone happy." Feza repeated. Her voice shook, a sob breaking into her words, making her blue eyes squint shut. For a moment she had wanted to ask who Red was. She had only met the gorilla once to her knowledge, and he hadn't given his name. He had asked if her kazoo class was a joke, to which Feza had heartily answered that it was not. Her solid and undying joy had been present then. It was giving out now, it was breaking and unraveling and her face scrunched up as if it would somehow keep it all in.

Her ears raised upon hearing Crowley's words. The jellybeans wouldn't protect her from falling, and her attempt to hunt this way wouldn't work. It tore at her further, that even her attempts to keep her own self from falling into despair were a complete and utter failure. She couldn't even help the group be happy, nor could she hunt for them. "You don't know that, you haven't tried, I'll be the first to try and I'll- I'll," There her resolve gave way. Her mind was failing to supply her an alternative other than the truth. She sputtered and felt the tears in her eyes swell up and her head lowered as if it would keep her from crying. Gravity could easily pull on her tears when she was positioned in such a way. Feza shook horrifically, as if it would free her of the outrageous amount of fur that the snow leopard possessed, as if the shaking would free her from the pain that was clawing at her lungs and throat.

Her tail curled around one of her ankles, as if that would somehow comfort her. "You don't really care about what changed. You just, you just, just want me to curl up and die, don't you? You're waiting for that, aren't you? The day where I can't take this anymore and rot away in my home?!" Her voice was shaking and stammering, breaking apart the facade of ever present joy. It was pain filled, broken, distorted, tired, fearful, nearing the opposite of what Feza always presented of herself. She let her claws dig into the plate that she was standing on. "You're waiting for when you can catch me alone and kill me, aren't you? You can't lie to me! I know it! I've dreamt it night after night! You're, you're, you're waiting for me to be alone so you can kill me and get rid of me! It's happened before! I, I know it will happen again!" Feza's broken voice raised into a scream. Her ears lowered, the tears freely able to come from her eyes.

"I'm tired of having nightmares every single night about a lion killing me every night! I'm tired of having my, my wings ripped off, being impaled, my eyes ripped from my skull, my tail severed, impaled, bleeding, beheaded, ripped apart, and dying over and over again! You would do that to me, wouldn't you? Yes you would. You're just like her, you'd kill me because I'm just trying to make people happy." The snow leopard's chest heaved, as if she was about to vomit. She was vomiting up words, only words, which only made her chest tighten more to finally be saying it all. "I've never been buried and suffocated in my nightmares until last night. You'd do that if there weren't other's around. I know it. It's happened too many times for that to not be the case. You're trying to convince me otherwise so you can bury and suffocate me. Because you hate me and want me to die. I don't know a lot of things, but I know that. You sigh every time you come around! If you don't like what I'm doing, then, then, then just don't come! But instead, instead, instead," she sputtered and trailed off, her blue eyes squinting shut. More tears, more breaking, more tearing at her lungs and heart and a sudden realization that if such was true, she shouldn't be saying this at all. What if that was what would trigger the nightmares to become a reality? What if her admitting was only blowing the cover? It wasn't the most bizarre idea that had ever presented itself in Feza's mind.

She wasn't looking up anymore. Instead, the snow leopard was curled in on herself yet still standing as if she would be able to ease the aching in her chest - or perhaps disappear entirely from sight. Her vibrant colors refused to allow such a thing. "It's sickening to every night live out a life that I know I've had once. I don't know where it was, or when. It's so sickeningly similar. Someone of the same position of me wants me dead. Just because I want to make everyone happy. You'll kill me too." Feza's voice quieted, only worsening how terribly her voice shook. "How many times do I have to die in my sleep before my punishment is done? How long do I have to put up with this before it happens in the waking world? Or until the cardboard boxes say that my punishment is complete? What have, what have I done to invoke their anger?! I've done everything to make everyone happy and, and," The vibrant feline's paws raised, covering her head and her lowered ears. She shook furiously, sobbing, crying, her wings sticking away from her sides. Terrified summarized her posture, terrified and broken down.

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[torren]

[align=center]

A s p e c t a b u n d . adj.
Following the trail of strange plates led exactly where the young wildcat expected them to.  Nothing smelled amazing burnt, nor looked reassuring stable to walk on made out of jellybeans.  The prince refrained the thoughts however, listening quietly to the colorful snow leopard's outburst, mulling over every word with his brows creased.

"Feza," Torren began gently, frown resting on his maw.  "Wormwood does not want to kill you." He sets his tone calm, with no room for argument.  His eyes regard the usually vibrant guardsman kindly, gleaming gently. "Every member of Tanglewood, can vouch he would never hurt a fellow tribemate, Feza and you are a tribemate."

"From what I gather, the two of you just don't see eye to eye.  That's okay.  Everyone sees the world differently, Feza.  I think that's what makes the world wonderful, honestly."

"You're scared of him.  That's okay too, okay?" After all, Wormwood was larger than the leopard.  In the feral world he'd give merit to that sort of fear. "But you have to understand, Wormwood is not the Wormwood from your nightmares.  Your fear is changing your perception of him.  I promise he doesn't want to kill you." You probably just annoy him a little, but that's fine.  What's a little annoyance? Torren came from a life wrought with the annoyances a younger sister brought -- no one like Wormwood would kill someone over annoyance.

"Feza, you don't think before you act.  You just assume a plan will work and make others happy, without asking them what it really is that makes them happy.  That's all.  And that's probably why Wormwood doesn't always like your plans, but like I said, not everyone sees eye to eye.  That's okay." He smiled softly, head tilted lightly.

"It's wonderful you want to make others happy, Feza.  Maybe think about it a little though?  Not everyone is the same, so not every plan will make everyone happy.  Take a new approach, and I think you'll start seeing the results you want."

[wormwood.]

Wormwood actively recoiled away from Feza's words as soon as they left her mouth, his ears and wings pinning back as soon as the snow leopard began to ramble, her words progressively becoming more and more unhinged and nonsensical. Despite everything that Feza thought, Worm had never thought once about killing the other large feline, or even doing so much as lifting a single claw to hurt her. What Torren said was true – Worm would never hurt another Tangler, and Feza was included on that list of Tanglers. No matter how much she pissed him off, did her crazy antics, and rambled on about stuff that absolutely was not true, he would never hurt her, and that's why it hurt him so much to have her accuse him of wanting to do such a thing. His heart sank down into his stomach, and he found himself stepping back to stare at her, his gaze cold and full of pain as he let Torren speak, and processed everything she had claimed about him. He shook his head slowly at his fellow guardsman, glad that at the very least he had Torren here to defend him – as well as Crowley, more than likely, since for all that the demon denied liking anybody else, the angel was fairly sure Crowley liked him, and knew he wouldn't kill anybody. A small part of the lion wanted to immediately lash out. To give Feza what she wanted, to just pour all of his aggression and pain and anxiety into one vicious rant that would haunt Feza until the day she did die, although not by his paws. Still, he resisted that urge, instead just focusing on his paws and the dirt beneath him – the dirt that Feza's crazed mind seemed to think she was going to be buried underneath.

When Torren was finally done sticking up for him, Worm raised his head to look at Feza, taking in her trembling tormented form and slowly shaking his head. He rumbled softly as he lifted up a paw, looking down at his cracked pads before resting it back against the ground, a heavy sigh leaving him, "...I can't believe that you would say such things about me. I have never once acted violently towards you, nor would I ever want to, Feza. The reason that I come and I sigh at you is not, in fact, because I have some diabolical scheme to weaken and kill you, but just because I want to take others' feelings into consideration, something that you don't often do before you act, just as Torren said. I am not some vessel for your box gods to punish you, nor am I some evil bastard waiting to bury you alive, and the fact that you would even think any of that of me...? It hurts like a knife to the heart. I hope that you got that all out of your system, since none of it is true." His voice was cold, unemotional, and slow, his eyes trained somewhere behind of Feza rather than directly at her. He glanced at Torren and Crowley for a moment before shaking his head and rumbling softly, "I really was worried about you, Feza. I still am, in fact, since you've clearly got something very, very wrong with you, but I'm not going to stand here while you accuse me of things that aren't true, so goodbye." He nodded at everyone there before turning and walking away, stretching his wings out as he walked off and away from the scene, his tail low to the ground behind him as he left Feza to her plates of melted jellybeans and her delusions of the ground collapsing beneath her. There was no way that he could deal with this, and he doubted that he would be able to calm her down anyways.

( wormy out!! )

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]