07-01-2018, 03:49 AM
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SOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!
[W]iskerSOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"] Dreams were horrid in that they were fantasies that Argus could not have- could watch through a different set of eyes but never reach. Nightmares on that spectrum were reminders. The exact opposite in which the officer was put into a situation where she was forced to watch, act without acting- without control. Forced to remeber all the hurt she had done and what she could still do. The reason why she still woke up shaking, unable to look down bloodied paws - look behind So this is what you were hiding / it wasn't your fault.
The past haunted her in a way that she wished she could wipe away. Sometimes she would dream of being ignorant- living without the knowledge of her survivor guilt. It was easy to blame yourself of everything that went wrong in the past- when you were the only one left alive to remember it. She knows what happens when she erases her memories- try to lessen her guilt- she knows. Zactov takes advantage like the devils they had bound them to- possessing controlling. Offering power- answers for a chance of the vessel.
It was easy to wake up from the dreams, but the guilt- the panic the fear was much harder to shake. Cronas' words were bubbling through Willow's voice in her dream, as both her and the skull tinged with ash- brown soft eyes lit blue with power- it was always blue. The same color she now hid behind her red. Wakeup mama. You've got more secrets to hide, other bridges to burn. Caesar's words were so eerily similar to another dream demon that took her kit. Her baby- and it was rage that she felt now, easily consuming all the fear and panic of fire and hurt and channel it into her own form of hurt- defend protect.
Caesar prooded her, and she snapped to with a snarl on her tongue and azure bleeding from her eyes. Her form, that she usually tried to lessen with her wings pressed down, smile close lipped eyes lulled and drowsy now flared to life. Claws scratching at the wooden flooring of the ship she snaped like a rubber band ready to bite the hand of whoever stretched it. For milliseconds she was still stuck inside her dream- facing the monster that took one of her babies and saw threat.
-- It was sad wasn't it? A mother with nothing to protect. A book-keeper with only ashes. A watcher, with too many emotions- too much hurt that she could only watch. Too afraid to act again- too afraid to try to be something other than broken.--
Oh how she wished, preyed and broke for the dream of waking up to be something akin to a distant god, and watch the world with distinct apathy without having a care for mortal things such as feeling and depth. But she was born to be a mortal, and in all her years of living as something else has done little to strip her of her emotions. Little to stop the hurt.
It was a quick snap into awareness, where threat became recognition. And blue drained from her eyes- the officer slowly shrinking onto herself. Back into whatever she was before. The officer of the typhoon. Remembering that there was nothing to protect but the memories of the dead. She reminded herself to breathe again.
Her eyes were no longer as wide as they were when they snapped open, and the color seemed to be even duller in comparison to the same color they usually held. A bright crimson now a dulled red stain. She was silent, watching her two clanmates fill the occupancy of her room in the same way she wanted to dispensary. Not out of avoidance just bone deep Exulansis.
She breathed again, and let reality settle back unto her shoulders.
"Did i... wake you two up or someth'n?" The wolf's voice was hoarse in the way it always has been, almost overused scratchy quality to it. Trying to ignore the jitters in her limbs as she forced herself to sit up and refrain from slumping. So tired but knowing she couldn't fall back to sleep. "Somth' I can do for ya?"
The past haunted her in a way that she wished she could wipe away. Sometimes she would dream of being ignorant- living without the knowledge of her survivor guilt. It was easy to blame yourself of everything that went wrong in the past- when you were the only one left alive to remember it. She knows what happens when she erases her memories- try to lessen her guilt- she knows. Zactov takes advantage like the devils they had bound them to- possessing controlling. Offering power- answers for a chance of the vessel.
It was easy to wake up from the dreams, but the guilt- the panic the fear was much harder to shake. Cronas' words were bubbling through Willow's voice in her dream, as both her and the skull tinged with ash- brown soft eyes lit blue with power- it was always blue. The same color she now hid behind her red. Wakeup mama. You've got more secrets to hide, other bridges to burn. Caesar's words were so eerily similar to another dream demon that took her kit. Her baby- and it was rage that she felt now, easily consuming all the fear and panic of fire and hurt and channel it into her own form of hurt- defend protect.
Caesar prooded her, and she snapped to with a snarl on her tongue and azure bleeding from her eyes. Her form, that she usually tried to lessen with her wings pressed down, smile close lipped eyes lulled and drowsy now flared to life. Claws scratching at the wooden flooring of the ship she snaped like a rubber band ready to bite the hand of whoever stretched it. For milliseconds she was still stuck inside her dream- facing the monster that took one of her babies and saw threat.
-- It was sad wasn't it? A mother with nothing to protect. A book-keeper with only ashes. A watcher, with too many emotions- too much hurt that she could only watch. Too afraid to act again- too afraid to try to be something other than broken.--
Oh how she wished, preyed and broke for the dream of waking up to be something akin to a distant god, and watch the world with distinct apathy without having a care for mortal things such as feeling and depth. But she was born to be a mortal, and in all her years of living as something else has done little to strip her of her emotions. Little to stop the hurt.
It was a quick snap into awareness, where threat became recognition. And blue drained from her eyes- the officer slowly shrinking onto herself. Back into whatever she was before. The officer of the typhoon. Remembering that there was nothing to protect but the memories of the dead. She reminded herself to breathe again.
Her eyes were no longer as wide as they were when they snapped open, and the color seemed to be even duller in comparison to the same color they usually held. A bright crimson now a dulled red stain. She was silent, watching her two clanmates fill the occupancy of her room in the same way she wanted to dispensary. Not out of avoidance just bone deep Exulansis.
She breathed again, and let reality settle back unto her shoulders.
"Did i... wake you two up or someth'n?" The wolf's voice was hoarse in the way it always has been, almost overused scratchy quality to it. Trying to ignore the jitters in her limbs as she forced herself to sit up and refrain from slumping. So tired but knowing she couldn't fall back to sleep. "Somth' I can do for ya?"