05-27-2018, 01:18 AM
DARKNESS' END // Obscuro
[sub]Written Oct.30.2017[/sub]
if you find this u are awesome
It was something heart wrenching to look at- most people looked on afraid and weary as azure eyes giving way to a unpredictable insanity that lurked within those hues. In the same context her scars were warning signs, flashing in the afternoon sun and almost glimmering in the moonlit night- a shadow in the darkness only remembered by her eyes. -When people looked they only saw the monster that she allowed them to see, the beast lurking just under her skin showed in bursts of demeanor, a constant in her swirling eyes. Most as a result didn’t ever look her in the eye. Most feared what they saw, feared what they could trigger by acknowledging it.
The night was settling, and a warm flame blanketed across Obscuro’s home. A deep red flickering- hazing into the air. Black smoke becoming untraceable in the darkening sky. A sliver of black to contrast the brilliant bleeding red of the sky. There was something therapeutic about watching her home burn. Her vigil nostalgic to the very first time her home had caught, the last time anything remotely similar had happened. Now she watched, She watched as priceless journals crumble into ash, furs bleed into the ground and her home decimated.
She imagined getting trapped under it again, fantasized ripping her wing off again, in a blind panic to save her own fur, ripping through her silken dowry limb while scrambling for purchase under a collapsed burning log. She could taste the blood in her maw, could feel the fur singe her skin, and when she blinked- the fantasy was gone, Her home cracked and fire cackled. And she watched.
Would anyone save her if it happened? Or would this clan be the same? Would they fear the fire? Would they not risk saving their own, and watch impassively as she burned?
Yes, there was something to fear in those eyes, as blue eyes flickered up to the sky, she knew. She knew that whoever thought that ignoring her would stop it. That not acknowledging the beast gave her just enough time to do enough damage, to hurt enough people, to set a trap. To come to her own senses.
Maybe she should have left a body in there, maimed a wolf similar to her, It would make this easier, but obscuro wasn’t about easy. She wasn’t as boring as letting them believe they couldn’t save her- while tempting- She was far to personalized to this clan. No, she wasn’t leaving- not yet. She needed to personalize her goodbye, to reveal reason to the twisted, manipulative look in her eye that caused such dreaded fear into others when they gazed upon her.
It wasn’t so much as they deserved an explanation, or that she wanted to take some joy in their faces twisting with the possibility of betrayal. She was done with this clan, and to leave it all alone, she wanted to give them the chance- the chance to see something honest from the wolf. Riverclan had grown into her home, a title she never thought she would ever give again, and it was only fair to them to offer some sort of compensation for housing something so vile as she.
Because in the end, there would always be something honest in her, her soul was corrupted, and her name was tainted,, but in the same context her scars were reminders of her mistakes, Were humbling to remember that she was once just an ordinary pup who grew up too fast, lost too much too quick and saw it fit to rectify the broken in her- by placing it in other. Replacing their burden and setting in on other’s mantles for seconds of reprieve.
In the end, her eyes told a story, and it was a story she needed to share.
By now, others would start flocking to her, people would notice the scent of ash, the tinge of burn on the island. People would rush over, seeking to help, and they would find a humbled wolf with a broken home, broken mind, but revealing, but truthful. Maybe they would see it for what it was.
And so, she spoke.
“Once upon a time, there was a family. Created from a drunken mistake, stitched at the seams but still whole. Still soulful. I stood humbled in my first mate’s den, to marvel at four squirming pups. To never know what family was, i clung to do good by them, to hunt for and provide, to teach and to learn. I never knew what it was like to be in a family before, but my four pups, my daughters and sons I wanted to learn.”
“In a broken home, Between the barren sands and on the prespe of a hostile world I clung to the house i created. To the pups I sired and the mate I loved. I learned what it was like to love, to live for someone else. I loved them all, and I loved her the most, for one time I thought the world was perfect, I thought that everything would be fine as long as I had them, as long as i had something to fight for.”
“And of course I was proven wrong. I lived in the only clan I swore loyalty to, and Before then- I knew the injustice of the world. Kill or be killed, hunt or be preyed upon. I learned that pro-clans were good and my clan was bad, We were seen as the monsters of the world - and that was fine. I thought that title would earn them protection - and I was proven wrong.”
“It was three days after I noticed my son’s disappearance, that he was returned to me. The leader’s apprentice dragged him home- a stranger’s meer mercy was the only reason I was allowed to see my son before he died to his wounds. They tortured him they… They broke him.”
Her voice quaked with the memory, and broke over the lump in her throat as she spoke. She kept her eyes glued to her broken home, to her burning home.
“To think, think it was fear that caused a pro-clan leader to torture a pup. To think it was fear, that made every member of his clan sit back and watch as my son screamed for mercy...” She marveled now at her scars, picking up a paw, and in the light of the blaze she watched as they shined with a dissociative interest. As if she were trying to focus, trying to remember. “He was a kid… He had a little pink bear plush, and his favorite candy was bubblegum lollies. He didn’t hurt anyone.” But the tears escaping from her eyes then showed she was too consumed, she was drowning in her memories, in her son’s death, It was disheartening to watch as a beast- a monster that instilled so much fear naturally break before her crumbling home, remembering time and time again, as it was ripped away, as her chance of happiness.
Because his death was not the only one. His death was the first, and his siblings stumbled to follow behind, their mother disappearing not long after. Her son was the mark of her downfall, the loss of one life was far great, but she found no reprieve afterwards. Like dominoes the rest followed and her family crumbled, her home crumbled. By far, the memory of her burning home, the fantasy she illuded to- SHe would do it, again and again if it meant that none of it ever happened. That her kids were safe, that she still had something to fight for. That she wasn’t here- wasn’t seeking justice only for it all to fall together again, only to fall apart- again and again.
The night was settling, and a warm flame blanketed across Obscuro’s home. A deep red flickering- hazing into the air. Black smoke becoming untraceable in the darkening sky. A sliver of black to contrast the brilliant bleeding red of the sky. There was something therapeutic about watching her home burn. Her vigil nostalgic to the very first time her home had caught, the last time anything remotely similar had happened. Now she watched, She watched as priceless journals crumble into ash, furs bleed into the ground and her home decimated.
She imagined getting trapped under it again, fantasized ripping her wing off again, in a blind panic to save her own fur, ripping through her silken dowry limb while scrambling for purchase under a collapsed burning log. She could taste the blood in her maw, could feel the fur singe her skin, and when she blinked- the fantasy was gone, Her home cracked and fire cackled. And she watched.
Would anyone save her if it happened? Or would this clan be the same? Would they fear the fire? Would they not risk saving their own, and watch impassively as she burned?
Yes, there was something to fear in those eyes, as blue eyes flickered up to the sky, she knew. She knew that whoever thought that ignoring her would stop it. That not acknowledging the beast gave her just enough time to do enough damage, to hurt enough people, to set a trap. To come to her own senses.
Maybe she should have left a body in there, maimed a wolf similar to her, It would make this easier, but obscuro wasn’t about easy. She wasn’t as boring as letting them believe they couldn’t save her- while tempting- She was far to personalized to this clan. No, she wasn’t leaving- not yet. She needed to personalize her goodbye, to reveal reason to the twisted, manipulative look in her eye that caused such dreaded fear into others when they gazed upon her.
It wasn’t so much as they deserved an explanation, or that she wanted to take some joy in their faces twisting with the possibility of betrayal. She was done with this clan, and to leave it all alone, she wanted to give them the chance- the chance to see something honest from the wolf. Riverclan had grown into her home, a title she never thought she would ever give again, and it was only fair to them to offer some sort of compensation for housing something so vile as she.
Because in the end, there would always be something honest in her, her soul was corrupted, and her name was tainted,, but in the same context her scars were reminders of her mistakes, Were humbling to remember that she was once just an ordinary pup who grew up too fast, lost too much too quick and saw it fit to rectify the broken in her- by placing it in other. Replacing their burden and setting in on other’s mantles for seconds of reprieve.
In the end, her eyes told a story, and it was a story she needed to share.
By now, others would start flocking to her, people would notice the scent of ash, the tinge of burn on the island. People would rush over, seeking to help, and they would find a humbled wolf with a broken home, broken mind, but revealing, but truthful. Maybe they would see it for what it was.
And so, she spoke.
“Once upon a time, there was a family. Created from a drunken mistake, stitched at the seams but still whole. Still soulful. I stood humbled in my first mate’s den, to marvel at four squirming pups. To never know what family was, i clung to do good by them, to hunt for and provide, to teach and to learn. I never knew what it was like to be in a family before, but my four pups, my daughters and sons I wanted to learn.”
“In a broken home, Between the barren sands and on the prespe of a hostile world I clung to the house i created. To the pups I sired and the mate I loved. I learned what it was like to love, to live for someone else. I loved them all, and I loved her the most, for one time I thought the world was perfect, I thought that everything would be fine as long as I had them, as long as i had something to fight for.”
“And of course I was proven wrong. I lived in the only clan I swore loyalty to, and Before then- I knew the injustice of the world. Kill or be killed, hunt or be preyed upon. I learned that pro-clans were good and my clan was bad, We were seen as the monsters of the world - and that was fine. I thought that title would earn them protection - and I was proven wrong.”
“It was three days after I noticed my son’s disappearance, that he was returned to me. The leader’s apprentice dragged him home- a stranger’s meer mercy was the only reason I was allowed to see my son before he died to his wounds. They tortured him they… They broke him.”
Her voice quaked with the memory, and broke over the lump in her throat as she spoke. She kept her eyes glued to her broken home, to her burning home.
“To think, think it was fear that caused a pro-clan leader to torture a pup. To think it was fear, that made every member of his clan sit back and watch as my son screamed for mercy...” She marveled now at her scars, picking up a paw, and in the light of the blaze she watched as they shined with a dissociative interest. As if she were trying to focus, trying to remember. “He was a kid… He had a little pink bear plush, and his favorite candy was bubblegum lollies. He didn’t hurt anyone.” But the tears escaping from her eyes then showed she was too consumed, she was drowning in her memories, in her son’s death, It was disheartening to watch as a beast- a monster that instilled so much fear naturally break before her crumbling home, remembering time and time again, as it was ripped away, as her chance of happiness.
Because his death was not the only one. His death was the first, and his siblings stumbled to follow behind, their mother disappearing not long after. Her son was the mark of her downfall, the loss of one life was far great, but she found no reprieve afterwards. Like dominoes the rest followed and her family crumbled, her home crumbled. By far, the memory of her burning home, the fantasy she illuded to- SHe would do it, again and again if it meant that none of it ever happened. That her kids were safe, that she still had something to fight for. That she wasn’t here- wasn’t seeking justice only for it all to fall together again, only to fall apart- again and again.
if you find this u are awesome
I'LL BREAK THIS IF I H A V E TO —
TELL ME THE GOOD THAT WOULD DO
TELL ME THE GOOD THAT WOULD DO