07-15-2018, 06:03 PM
[align=center]
DOES THE BLANK STARE-
SCARE YOU MORE THAN THE FROWN?
[W]iskerDOES THE BLANK STARE-
SCARE YOU MORE THAN THE FROWN?
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: #E0EEEE;"] Argus could be defined by words it would be as simple as their own name. While others were born with one, and slowly filled into it- into a animal around it- they were not. No the name they were born with was lost to time. Only remembered by herself and.. few others. Ones that would do best not to say based on her own sanity for the time being. No she chose her own name, and she wore it like a title between the mantle of her shoulders like all the other names before it. Obscuro, Zactov, Calla, Katastre. It was easy to hide behind them, hide the past sins that she committed under each, change their appearance and shift the focus elsewhere, until each name became the title of a story told by mothers to kids to curious for their own good. To mothers who thought to long about leaving their kids- a reminder to what could happen- what would happen if they turned their back on their family, what might happen when they finally turn around and see nothing but ash. Argus was just another title to carry until the burden got to big- their body count too large to count and they chose another one. Argus was another tale that had yet to be told. One that they were living through- but weren't they all? Just stories untold, in time unseen until there was nothing else between them and death; the end of their story. At least with each name change they could choose their own end in the story. With each name a blank slate- a new empty page.
Of course there was a reason for this. For their 'inability' to give a true end. One false move- one wrong direction. Other's will prey and beg and plead for a chance of picking their own demise- others took it as a challenge. So overcome with their own fear or so lost within their own head- Argus often wonders if it was a one time thing- some twisted form of a lottery to how you died- and more to how you end up in the situation like they did. Usually, when someone ended their own life- it was because they wanted die. Of course there were accidents at times, there were times they could wish to take it back but Argus- Whisper at the time had nothing to regret. Nothing she was being selfish for because there was nothing left for them then- so then why- why was it- why them?.There were others like them out there- situations where a mortal was suddenly gifted with immortality- and some would be grateful- thankful for the chance to outlive everyone you loved- everything you ever tried to become turn into ash slip through your paws.- Reap your sons and daughters until they were ghosts - until you had nothing-
There were many things that people wished for, many explainable things that couldn't shouldn't be said out loud. Argus' divinity was one of them- not because it was some great gift given to them in a moment of mercy. Argus- Whisper turned into Obscuro, and she lived the life Whisper couldn't have. She lived what Whisper had ended and eventually- she found reason to live. She found love- she found family- she found everything Whisper wanted and then she didn't- like most tragedies- most anything real it was taken away- ripped from their grasps until they were in turn left gasping. Until there was nothing but a giant gaping hole left were there should have been four small kids telling them about how their day went.
In leaps and bounds- between centuries and a millennia, life is given meaning and looses it. In these gaps Argus finds names that belonged to friends and lives the life that were taken too early. They find their own sanity- morality, and they loose it all when there was nothing left to fight for, when there was nothing left but themselves- until they devolved into something rabid and well known- a common bogie man made real. Until they found reason again.
There was no sense, no logic. Just an endless cycle, the world took upon it's own mantel. Common themes of hate and revenge- Mercy and insanity were all mortal constructs- but Argus was mortal born, and she had yet to shake it- shake the raw emotions and the desperation for connection- for belonging and animals who understand. Argus craves many things in her life- things she can only get a glimpse of before they dispensary, there are things that they fear and there are many- many nightmares between them. Memories of a time when things are simple and savage- purely animal and instinct that every person- every person with sense battles. A line no one was meant to cross that Argus has crossed many many times.
You did not have to immortal to be a monster, or genuine to be a mother, or mortal to be caring. But there should not be something that was all three. There should not be an immortal monster, a fake genuine mother with no more kids, and only apathetic when they had nothing less to loose. There should not be Whisper, Obscuro, Katastre, Calla, but for now- there should be an Argus. There is and Argus. In the end, that is how it is. The world keeps turning and the Shinigami keeps walking, keeps reaping. Keep gaining connections and stacking her cards until the house of them all crumble away into ash.
Of coarse, this was neither here nor there. right?
It did not matter if Argus shook inside their own pelt trying to remember who they were or what they were trying to be here. It did not matter than they couldn't remember which names were their own and which ones were the ones they should be morning- did not matter so long as they remember who it was they were living for- because they could do nothing else. Remember their name that day- and continue. They lived because others couldn't, because there was no afterlife for them. Feet planted deeply into this plane, no matter how bloody- how twisted and vile- there was no leaving.
The night was peaceful, with it came none of the usual things Argus usually associated. A reprieve for now where in place there would be soul deep hunger and senseless need to gorge on something immortal. To further plunge whatever dream state- day brought where Argus pretended to be mortal with her cremates- pretended to be something other than hollow- soul devouring monster that they were by nightfall. A rare occasion- a gifted abatement. Where they would not go to sleep but rather walk- look up at the stars and let their mind blank into nothing.
Meditation wasn't common enough for them as it used to be. Their mind a closely guarded bomb going off with too many thoughts- too many emotions brimming and only steeping with time. It was nice to sit back and let it all filter out. Even recently, with the new position weighing on them it was hard to get time to relax- much less feel so tranquil. It was often time forced, or more commonly forsaken for pushing on. So she valued it when it came. Breathing even, slow- red eyes bright scarlet in comparison to the rusted copper they usually were. Wings soundless as an owl in flight.
Of course there always was a level of awareness during this time of night that couldn't be shut off- a paranoia that was purely instinctual, the bird-eyed view of the clan did wonders to ease it until she detected movement along the still ruined shoreline of two unfamiliar forms. But of course she was aware it could just be some of the many newcommers that seemed to be flooding in recently. People she hadn't had the time to greet or meet properly. Now was a good time as any to come and catch their names, and it was with that thought in mind that they began their decent.
They let their wings tuck into their sides and for a breath-halting moment they were free-falling. The air crushing any chance to breathe away from them and the ground coming in closely- for a moment the rush of power in their veins was gone and there was only the erratic heartbeat. The moment was shattered a moment too soon for their tastes- wings opening flaring open and catching the last breeze of updraft and giving them a more softer landing than a pure angled decent would have.
It was close enough to pick up on the strangers conversation, Vandal- another relative of Pincher introducing herself. THe white lupine took the moment to step closer to the pair- wry amusement and the matching pair addiction the two shared while Argus remained free of it. Smoking didn't really doo much for them- but then again little did now a days.
"I flew in here a good while ago, was hell for my wings the following week let me tell ya." The quartermaster offered her own way into the clan, although didn't specify a time. A low amused chucke cut off as she offered her own name. "Name's Argus, question is if you are intending to stay here?"
Of course there was a reason for this. For their 'inability' to give a true end. One false move- one wrong direction. Other's will prey and beg and plead for a chance of picking their own demise- others took it as a challenge. So overcome with their own fear or so lost within their own head- Argus often wonders if it was a one time thing- some twisted form of a lottery to how you died- and more to how you end up in the situation like they did. Usually, when someone ended their own life- it was because they wanted die. Of course there were accidents at times, there were times they could wish to take it back but Argus- Whisper at the time had nothing to regret. Nothing she was being selfish for because there was nothing left for them then- so then why- why was it- why them?.There were others like them out there- situations where a mortal was suddenly gifted with immortality- and some would be grateful- thankful for the chance to outlive everyone you loved- everything you ever tried to become turn into ash slip through your paws.- Reap your sons and daughters until they were ghosts - until you had nothing-
There were many things that people wished for, many explainable things that couldn't shouldn't be said out loud. Argus' divinity was one of them- not because it was some great gift given to them in a moment of mercy. Argus- Whisper turned into Obscuro, and she lived the life Whisper couldn't have. She lived what Whisper had ended and eventually- she found reason to live. She found love- she found family- she found everything Whisper wanted and then she didn't- like most tragedies- most anything real it was taken away- ripped from their grasps until they were in turn left gasping. Until there was nothing but a giant gaping hole left were there should have been four small kids telling them about how their day went.
In leaps and bounds- between centuries and a millennia, life is given meaning and looses it. In these gaps Argus finds names that belonged to friends and lives the life that were taken too early. They find their own sanity- morality, and they loose it all when there was nothing left to fight for, when there was nothing left but themselves- until they devolved into something rabid and well known- a common bogie man made real. Until they found reason again.
There was no sense, no logic. Just an endless cycle, the world took upon it's own mantel. Common themes of hate and revenge- Mercy and insanity were all mortal constructs- but Argus was mortal born, and she had yet to shake it- shake the raw emotions and the desperation for connection- for belonging and animals who understand. Argus craves many things in her life- things she can only get a glimpse of before they dispensary, there are things that they fear and there are many- many nightmares between them. Memories of a time when things are simple and savage- purely animal and instinct that every person- every person with sense battles. A line no one was meant to cross that Argus has crossed many many times.
You did not have to immortal to be a monster, or genuine to be a mother, or mortal to be caring. But there should not be something that was all three. There should not be an immortal monster, a fake genuine mother with no more kids, and only apathetic when they had nothing less to loose. There should not be Whisper, Obscuro, Katastre, Calla, but for now- there should be an Argus. There is and Argus. In the end, that is how it is. The world keeps turning and the Shinigami keeps walking, keeps reaping. Keep gaining connections and stacking her cards until the house of them all crumble away into ash.
Of coarse, this was neither here nor there. right?
It did not matter if Argus shook inside their own pelt trying to remember who they were or what they were trying to be here. It did not matter than they couldn't remember which names were their own and which ones were the ones they should be morning- did not matter so long as they remember who it was they were living for- because they could do nothing else. Remember their name that day- and continue. They lived because others couldn't, because there was no afterlife for them. Feet planted deeply into this plane, no matter how bloody- how twisted and vile- there was no leaving.
The night was peaceful, with it came none of the usual things Argus usually associated. A reprieve for now where in place there would be soul deep hunger and senseless need to gorge on something immortal. To further plunge whatever dream state- day brought where Argus pretended to be mortal with her cremates- pretended to be something other than hollow- soul devouring monster that they were by nightfall. A rare occasion- a gifted abatement. Where they would not go to sleep but rather walk- look up at the stars and let their mind blank into nothing.
Meditation wasn't common enough for them as it used to be. Their mind a closely guarded bomb going off with too many thoughts- too many emotions brimming and only steeping with time. It was nice to sit back and let it all filter out. Even recently, with the new position weighing on them it was hard to get time to relax- much less feel so tranquil. It was often time forced, or more commonly forsaken for pushing on. So she valued it when it came. Breathing even, slow- red eyes bright scarlet in comparison to the rusted copper they usually were. Wings soundless as an owl in flight.
Of course there always was a level of awareness during this time of night that couldn't be shut off- a paranoia that was purely instinctual, the bird-eyed view of the clan did wonders to ease it until she detected movement along the still ruined shoreline of two unfamiliar forms. But of course she was aware it could just be some of the many newcommers that seemed to be flooding in recently. People she hadn't had the time to greet or meet properly. Now was a good time as any to come and catch their names, and it was with that thought in mind that they began their decent.
They let their wings tuck into their sides and for a breath-halting moment they were free-falling. The air crushing any chance to breathe away from them and the ground coming in closely- for a moment the rush of power in their veins was gone and there was only the erratic heartbeat. The moment was shattered a moment too soon for their tastes- wings opening flaring open and catching the last breeze of updraft and giving them a more softer landing than a pure angled decent would have.
It was close enough to pick up on the strangers conversation, Vandal- another relative of Pincher introducing herself. THe white lupine took the moment to step closer to the pair- wry amusement and the matching pair addiction the two shared while Argus remained free of it. Smoking didn't really doo much for them- but then again little did now a days.
"I flew in here a good while ago, was hell for my wings the following week let me tell ya." The quartermaster offered her own way into the clan, although didn't specify a time. A low amused chucke cut off as she offered her own name. "Name's Argus, question is if you are intending to stay here?"