06-11-2018, 01:09 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-11-2018, 01:10 AM by Suiteheart.)
[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]Suiteheart was drenched in anger, but what else was new? The white feline stalked the borders, so deep in her thoughts that almost nothing could shake her. Her paws fell heavy on the ground, and if she had fire elementals, the grass would be scorched before she could lift her paw. She hated being so fucking enraged, but she could do nothing to stop it. The peaceful creature that ruled half of her soul was slumbering, pushed down by discord and strife and the need to break everything. She perhaps would have continued on this way for the remainder of the day had she not felt a disturbance in the bond she shared with Margaery.
All at once, an absolutely horrific emotion washed over her, freezing her in place. She felt hollow. Her back felt as though it might break from the heartache, and a confused grunt escaped her before a look of realization blanketed her face. No. No. No.
A thousand different thoughts raced around her mind, and she had to force herself to look through the bond to see who it was. When the familiar face drifted into her thoughts, the Ecliptic Admiral thought her heart would beat out of her chest or explode or both. All the air left her lungs, and tears burned her eyes. She trembled violently, and on unsteady paws, ran for them. She was blinded by tears, blinded by sadness, but she did not stop. She could not stop.
She cursed herself in her head. She had been horrible to him. She had called him an asshole and ripped Hazel away from him as if she were afraid he would hurt her. She had yelled and chided and pushed him. She had been the exact opposite of everything she was supposed to be as a deputy, a friend, an a maternal figure. Guilt stabbed at her chest. She had been mad, she wouldn't deny that. But she had never hated him, not truly. Hating him would entail giving up on him completely - and she had not done that. Anger, though a terrible emotion, meant she still felt something. It meant she might one day find it within herself to forgive and forget and forge a better relationship.
And now? Well, now, she would never get the fucking chance. It was gone. She felt herself crumble; she was folding inward and breaking down. This, though not her doing, had to be her fault. She had caused this, hadn't she? His death was because of her terrible actions. Her mind placed the blame on herself. This was her fault, and she wouldn't forgive her wrongdoings.
"B-Basty Boy?" came her voice, soft and shaking, as she called him by the nickname she'd given him upon joining. Her tears were hard to see through, but there was no mistaking this for what it was. She could not see his chest rising and falling with breath and, in turn, life. "Margy d-do something!" she pleaded, an other worldly type of desperation in her voice. She could not lose another son. God, no... please.
Daring to rip her eyes off the presumed dead body of Bastilleprisoner, she looked at few gathered npcs and screamed, "Get a fucking healer!"
All at once, an absolutely horrific emotion washed over her, freezing her in place. She felt hollow. Her back felt as though it might break from the heartache, and a confused grunt escaped her before a look of realization blanketed her face. No. No. No.
A thousand different thoughts raced around her mind, and she had to force herself to look through the bond to see who it was. When the familiar face drifted into her thoughts, the Ecliptic Admiral thought her heart would beat out of her chest or explode or both. All the air left her lungs, and tears burned her eyes. She trembled violently, and on unsteady paws, ran for them. She was blinded by tears, blinded by sadness, but she did not stop. She could not stop.
She cursed herself in her head. She had been horrible to him. She had called him an asshole and ripped Hazel away from him as if she were afraid he would hurt her. She had yelled and chided and pushed him. She had been the exact opposite of everything she was supposed to be as a deputy, a friend, an a maternal figure. Guilt stabbed at her chest. She had been mad, she wouldn't deny that. But she had never hated him, not truly. Hating him would entail giving up on him completely - and she had not done that. Anger, though a terrible emotion, meant she still felt something. It meant she might one day find it within herself to forgive and forget and forge a better relationship.
And now? Well, now, she would never get the fucking chance. It was gone. She felt herself crumble; she was folding inward and breaking down. This, though not her doing, had to be her fault. She had caused this, hadn't she? His death was because of her terrible actions. Her mind placed the blame on herself. This was her fault, and she wouldn't forgive her wrongdoings.
"B-Basty Boy?" came her voice, soft and shaking, as she called him by the nickname she'd given him upon joining. Her tears were hard to see through, but there was no mistaking this for what it was. She could not see his chest rising and falling with breath and, in turn, life. "Margy d-do something!" she pleaded, an other worldly type of desperation in her voice. She could not lose another son. God, no... please.
Daring to rip her eyes off the presumed dead body of Bastilleprisoner, she looked at few gathered npcs and screamed, "Get a fucking healer!"
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[glow=black,10,100]GOT MY DEGREE IN THE GUTTER,[/glow]
[glow=black,1,100]MY HEART BROKEN IN THE DORMS OF THE IVY LEAGUE