WE ALL WANNA KNOW IS IT GONNA END

[Grimm]

What is left nestled among the chambers of broken heart.

Present still, a gentle thrum beneath touch grown cautious as staged light brush, fragmented remnants poorly constructed until viable replica filled empty cavity. Still a mere shade had she been reduced to, a dour ghost intombed within walls that rang with empty silence, held memories she had found soured beneath dread. Lost they in crimson stained peaks, left in their wake only the sorrow that ate at what remained, hushed her desire against tongue caged.

"Mi noche." Harsh murmur adorning lips tilting down, about edges lingering the ghost of a frown, disuse evident in rising ache scouring closed throat. Known prior to execution the hasty plan formulated based only in a flourishing affection, his visitation conducted with an air of exhilaration. Rejection and dissuasive remarks painted the backs of her teeth, sought a release she withheld each from, painted upon the faux smile she offered as he grew frantic in imparting his course of action. Own his life, and thus choice alone may he bear, still a cruel blade that tore asunder her heart his admittance spoken in the darkness obscuring their solitary meeting.

Harsh grew the contours once beared, frown further dragged into descent, the soft gathering of fabric and mattress yielding beneath hooked tips. Jaime. His name died across tongue that held only a sob that bypassed clenched teeth, next swallowed harshly. Imparted the events that lead to his premature death, seemed impervious once elder brother who had grown quiet as the words filled the space between. Yet he had been, the signs ignored as her tears fell in a sudden cascade, signs lost as his duty forfeited such in favour of expectation.

Hold released, shakey the breath that parted her teeth, beset relaxed jaw muscles with a budding pain. Too long had she resided within self made prison, tarnished each until she held tight the conclusion, final moments ascending into a facsimile of poor quality. Outward vision turning, cool the shadows that mingled among one another. Slight the illumination that seeped through the slight part between heavy curtains, to that singular warm point attention turning. Taunt skin buzzed with unutilised energy, edge looked over, nothing more than obsidian shade the floor that seemed all too far down. Tight clutched fear about her heart, shrinking back from the edge.

"What would they think of me, scared of my own shadow," distinct the lack of mirth about forced laughter, biting edge decorating instead. Far was she from those days, perceived a world into which she had entered alongside those lost and still present through the rosen hue of nativity, to them reduced once more in grief she knew necessary to disregard. Tremor present in limb forth stretched, abyss entered with a pacing slow, aggravatingly so yet maintained.

Cool the wooden flooring, stark the difference, back drawn for brief moment as registered the discrepancy. Once more contact made, next sliding forth, by twin settling. Slower the removal of body, awoken pain anew in a tepid wash, teeth closing about drawn out groan, simmering heat scouring muscle taunt as effects of prolonged disuse grew apparent. Halt unpermitted , however, though sluggish still the traversal, bedside abandoned for the closed curtains. Dust gathered upon pads, smeared along pale strands, swirling in the air with sudden ejection as away pulled each cover in turn. Beyond the glare there was nothing. Expected, and thus not disparaged such, latch focus of attention.

Sweet, if frigid, the first breath drawn in before full swing may be completed, out leaning braced against the sill. Small her abode, chosen in particular for two simple rooms occupied, sectioned off only the bedroom from the wider space beyond, yet further restrictive had grown the meagre offering of space. "I'm sorry, I've been a fool." Admittance difficult to allow to pass her lips, pressed to the bases of curling horns adorning lowered head gently rounded ears.

Abandoned post, aside thrown the thin spill of fabric acting as barrier, dust laden the space beyond into which she walks. Any thought pertaining to remedying such disregarded, thick grown air that clings to the walls of her lungs, suffocates as breath grows frantic, hast in steps that leave her near stumbling. Raucous clamour, rebounding door roughly shoved open without care, halted from settling in place once more only by an exit equally as undignified. Lips contoured, twist arising as sun struck rosette laden coat of ivory, bubbling forth laughter genuine if warped beneath sobs that spilled past on the tail end of sudden mirth. Heavy her collapse, settling in an awkward sitting position with one leg kicked out, forelimbs drawn close and chin tucked to chest, quivering the pale wings pressed to heaving sides.

How long has it been since you truly were Eulia and not a poor replica parading about in her skin.

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We woke up to the thunder we huddled under covers, we didn't say anything, if you hadn't come over I would be so much colder, I would be much less confused. and then the water came and washed it all away, it left me with nothing to say. could not believe my eyes I could not recognise your face in the rubble

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code by Wisker

[roan ;]

SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

For a while, it had been so quiet. Roan had appreciated that time, the period between Jaime's death and the invasion of the Coalition. While he knew that span of time had actually been a decent chunk of time, it still felt so brief to the young soothsayer, who only knew that his life had finally known peace once again, during that time. There had been little to no injuries for him to worry about, allowed to mourn his brother in peace as he gathered his thoughts and tried to hold himself together. Without that period, he probably would've fallen apart by now, collapsed in on himself like a black hole unable to keep itself intact anymore. He would've given in to the despair that had taken root in his heart, making him think that there never would be a time where he had to worry about his friends and family being hurt. Such a thing had seemed so unattainable, like a passing daydream that was fictional and distant, as crazy to think about as riding through the sky on the backs of unicorns. However, life was such a fan of proving him wrong. And for a while, he had been allowed to enjoy it. He had been allowed to have his peace, allowed to not constantly be in a state of worry. Allowed to... well, love someone who wasn't merely his family.

And then, it had all fallen apart. The Coalition had attacked, and there had been injuries. There had been so much chaos and violence, and his fragile sense of relaxation had been stabbed through the heart. No longer was Roan allowed a moment to breathe. Instead, the siamese needed to be running from place to place, working alongside Rosemary and anyone else who offered in order to keep The Typhoon afloat. Thankfully, he couldn't remember anyone who had died as a result of the attack, but a few of his patients had been severely wounded, and he had felt hatred festering in his heart with each new face that showed. The temple had once again become packed, and Roan had simply wanted a chance to dig his claws into Stryker's eyes and make him pay. He wanted that cheating snake to suffer, just as he had suffered when his new world had once again fallen apart. The feeling had caught the soothsayer off guard, being so used to living a mostly pacifist lifestyle. He had never been much of a fighter, and while he was always one of the first to take a verbal jab at someone he disliked, he hated inflicting wounds upon others. He knew firsthand just how much they could not only hurt the victim, but the victim's loved ones as well. Amazingly, the Coalition had managed to break that pacifistic streak.

As the days had dragged on and on, Roan had tried to keep an eye on his family from afar, simply waiting until they would be free of this new, tyrannical rule. However, such surveillance wasn't easy, considering most of his siblings were missing, or scattered. In addition to that, both Diya and Roxie had things they had to do for their respective jobs, and he still needed to keep an eye on his remaining patients, as well. He had wanted to keep more of an eye on Eulia, but he was only vaguely aware of the rather ramshackle place that she had made her home. Distantly, the medic had occasionally wondered if his little sister even knew what was going on around her. Did she know about the takeover, or had she remained boarded up in her home for so long that she had no concept of the outside world? Part of him wanted to hate her for becoming so solitary. Part of him wanted to lash out at her for hiding herself away after Trygve's leaving and Jaime's death, especially since he had remained outside. He had managed to hold it together, even after the sting of Ry's leaving had dug under his skin, and the open wound of Jaime's passing had been ripped into his belly. He had remained upright, while Lu had gone and hid under the covers.

However, Roan knew that it would've been impossible for him to hate Eulia. She was his family, and he loved her, and even though a sense of bitterness did linger on his tongue, it wasn't strong enough to lead to hatred. Very little was strong enough to lead to such a thing, at least for the soothsayer. Unfortunately, this didn't stop a rush of heat and faint anger when the feline passed by Eulia's home that day, spotting her out on the porch. However, his simmering displeasure died down when he saw the state that she was in, and the way that she hugged herself with her wings. Taking a deep breath, the draconic feline sighed before he made his way over. He cleared his throat once he grew close, still smelling strongly of herbs as usual, "...Eulia? Are you alright?" It was clear that she wasn't, but he honestly wasn't sure what else to say. Bedside manner had never been his strong suit, despite his choice of career. After another sigh left his muzzle, Roan added on, "...It's been a while since we've seen a trace of you." How long had it been since Lu had spoken to Trygve? To Roxanne?

DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!

— Reggan

[Grimm]

How much of the fragmented world tainted beneath tyrannical rule did she know.

Nothing.

A sweet lie against caged tongue, flimsy the barrier such poor excuse for protection offered. Yet tight had grown her hold, accepted through necessity, fragile heart locked behind reinforced walls. She knew, heard the din, never silent war enacted upon land she had become a stranger to. Within the waves, their crashing conclusion reverberating through her diaphragm and tasted among the heavy tang copper painted against brine laden air, driving it from her mind.

Undercurrent beneath floral perfume, fine strands embedded with remnants of prior work. Apart of him, innocence washed away beneath the tacky wash of crimson. Involuntary movement, lips shifting until crowned once more with the ghost of her sorrow, back shrinking. "No." Strained murmur slipping past without review, taunt grown the line of her lips, broken only as teeth sunk deep, worried along as heavy hung the word.

Coward she that withdrew, further the veil closed. Pale the wash, light filtered through fine membrane, away whisked his shaded presence. A child raised on pretty lies, given all she may need and that beyond, affection untested. No need to move beyond, discard the falsehood such simple safety enclosed her within, once more away turned as each breath ended with an audible tremor. Differing the plan, grand scheme not to be discarded, reality a harsh lesson she may face. Part slow, averted eyes still as the light grows within intensity, hushed the murmur pulled through clenched teeth, reluctance detectable on each drawn out syllable.

"I had no reason to leave." Finally his eyes sought, though overshot, over shoulder her eyes settled, devoid once soft visage grown gaunt of all. You are not him. About thought swirled, desire to allow floundering excuse to arise brushed aside even as thick grew her swallowed guilt.

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We woke up to the thunder we huddled under covers, we didn't say anything, if you hadn't come over I would be so much colder, I would be much less confused. and then the water came and washed it all away, it left me with nothing to say. could not believe my eyes I could not recognise your face in the rubble

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code by Wisker