FUCKING UP A GOOD PLACE // waking

[Grimm]

WHEN I WAS ONLY TWELVE YEARS OLD

MY PARENTS WENT WALKING

I HATE THOSE WICKED WORDS THEY'D SAY

The meagre significance imparted to the passage of time rendered null, from mind striped until there was nothing. A falsehood itself such, the darkness that occupied the cavernous space mind explored apparent, weightless but present. Disturbed, at times, lids shuttered over once luminous depths alight with thought that spiralled through quietened mind, alive once more. Fantastical each building block atop another placed, the reality discarded acting as foundation.

Within witness the slumbering child to the never still waves as whipped into frenzy was Foam laced surface, pristine the arc sky carved above, tranquil beyond waves that sought him. Alone his perch on false shore, lonesome even as the cycle of day and night ended with fall into this dream scape, the seconds passing until he may not count each and know how he withered. He felt it. Somehow his mind grew tired of the notion, burned with a heat that left prone child sweltering beneath covering, dutiful the eyes that watched over and tended.

There seemed nothing but the heat, mind framing in it harsh illumination scouring golden grains, broken their even field by claws that dug deep grooves.

It was no sand he felt, wood scraped against, the irritation unlike the organic material he was rested upon, the real and the fantasy joined in confusing fashion. Back lips shifted, exposed small points and begun anew his pacing, quickened pace, heart hammering until it seemed caught a bird furiously beating against the bars of its cage occupied heaving chest. The ocean screamed, raucous calls from sea faring birds answering, a cacophony that forced halt. Upwards paws travelled, harsh the prick, felt the manner skin tore and blood trickled, a pain dull but real, his own voice stolen.

"Rhine!" Throat drew tight, almost lost the name that adorned lips adorned with crimson, stinging with each shift, copper and salt together drawn across dry tongue. Realisation slow, mind wishing nothing of the world present that arose in dark hues, wood and concrete together joined beneath dwindling light. Pleasant the dream, agonising this that awoke feverish pain, dry the sudden heaving that forced him to turn onto his belly. There was nothing left, empty in a manner unfamiliar and terrible, hunger and that hollow ache contesting as mind reeled.

Hazey the pieced together scene. Alone, divider of a blanket constructed, flimsy framework holding it aloft. Behind wood dominated, arising forth until met with shallow roof, a slant forcing eyes away, nausea creeping up throat once more. Sound beyond, voices and movement, stilled as his cry resounded yet begun again. None worried, cared to check. Had he done this before, awoke  with a name or wordless cry before taken once more, routine to a point he may be left unattended. Harsh the thought that settled against aching mind, groan parting dry mouth, arising in a strained lilt.

Protest sudden and cruel, muscle constricting about bones that seemed to wish to break, once more silence prevailing. Aside curtain pulled and the clamour began. They knew he had awoken, forth stumbling even as they tried to stop, called for one and than another, names echoing and sharply embedding themselves into his brain. Rhinestonestar. They called as if the one who bore the name was not gone, cool beneath the sands he once presided over, broken whimper bypassing tightly pressed lips. Had he the ability tears may have spilled, for now only the thin trickle of blood did, brief the registry the imparted cuts were not a dream.

Forced once more to sit, dying the words as the medical building grew empty, few the stragglers left behind to watch him. Strange the flurry, how activity was pronounced beyond, voices calling even as the meaning was lost. Spoken of those two long weeks ago war, upon two sides the enemy crowded, fresh the worry that carved at his heart and forced him to unsteady feet. Yet he could not take even a single step, heavy his fall, perched once more on his haunches as mind swirled.

It seemed there was much Foamkit had missed, for now he merely focused upon breathing, forehead pressed to the floor between his paws.

code by Reggan

[RHINESTONE.]

RHINESTONESTAR ❝ RHINE ❞ LEADER
"TALKING" || "TELEPATHY"

When Rhinestone had initially returned from death, it had been only a day since he had passed, the memories of a wolf's fangs crunching into his flesh and bones still disturbingly fresh on his mind. Despite that, he had a sense of purpose running through him in those moments. A raw determination, pushing him forward and driving him to eventually find his way back to camp, reclaiming his place atop the meeting rock and calling out for those around him to gather. He had initially been met with skepticism, but his mind had helpfully prevailed, providing him with the memories and quirks that uniquely formed the image of him. In that moment, he had felt bold and empowered, knowing what he had to do as the group had cast aside Starclan and proclaimed themselves under a new name. It had certainly been a rush, to finally be free of the sense of failure that had haunted Rhinestone ever since he had initially taken up the position as leader. He had always thought that he was broken in some way, all because of the fact that Starclan wouldn't speak to him. Wouldn't spare him even a mere glance. And yet, he was the one that had ended up casting them aside, for the good of The Palm Glades as a whole.

In that same meeting, Rhine had proudly proclaimed that he wanted Foamkit to step up as one of their waverunners, knowing very well that the boy had done a great deal for the group already. Even if Foam was young, he was constantly learning, and constantly trying to be around where he could. It was admirable, even if the serval commonly ended up worried about the kit pushing himself too hard. Of course, that had been one of the first things that had come to mind, when he had been informed after the meeting that Foam wasn't awake. Initially, Rhinestonestar had panicked, demanding to see Foamkit and figure out what was going on. He had thought that little Foamkit, the boy who was a son to him, was either dead or dying. Thankfully, he had been wrong, but it had still been disheartening, seeing the other in such a sorry state. Occasionally, he had stayed around the medical area, interacting casually with Vaas as he kept an eye on Foam from afar, waiting for the other to wake up properly. There was the occasional shift, or roll of the kit's form from one side to another, but true consciousness always seemed so far off.

Naturally, as soon as Rhinestone had heard a call of his name coming from the direction of the medical building, he had come running. He had very nearly slipped down the entire boardwalk in his effort to get there as quickly as possible, his breath coming in soft gasps as he finally reached the building and headed inside. However, his steps had slowed considerably as he slipped in the door, hesitant in a way. He was unsure of how Foamkit would react, considering his change from one body to another. After a moment of standing there, staring at the newly awakened Foamkit, Rhine took a couple of steps forward, voice briefly cracking as he spoke up, "Foamkit...? You're finally awake... you've been asleep for so long, I wasn't sure when you'd finally open your eyes." Briefly, Rhinestone's claws scraped against the hard ground beneath him, releasing the tension that curled around his body like a vice. After another moment of hesitation, he stated in the most comforting tone he could manage, "It's... it's me. Rhinestonestar... I came back the day after... that happened. Although obviously, I changed a bit... I tried to talk to you, but. You were already asleep, by then..." He knew that Foamkit probably wouldn't believe at first, not that the male could really blame him. After all, Medusa hadn't believed him at first either.

tags + roleplayed by stilly + the palm glades