god I hate you [ open / death ]

[ADAKIAS]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px; padding-right: 8px; font-family: timesnewroman;"][size=8pt]Death was a concept that her youthful self had unfortunately already witnessed. Childhood should be a time where adolescents enrich their senses in positive experiences all the while growing into who they’re meant to become. And yet she had sped up the qualities of what it meant to be a child and had done more than witnessed death — in fact, her very own mind had been the origin of malice. The young Bengal had subconsciously taken the life of a living soul, her spirit dissociative during the ordeal yet present nonetheless. It had been a duckling that she killed, but that point held no significance to the festering guilt Sylvina immediately was overcome with. It had been then and there that she held the notion of what she had done; taken the possibilities and livlihood of a thriving creature simply because she couldn’t control her violent outbreak.

Death brought Sylvina emotions that she hadn’t exactly felt before. The most significant of the feelings being that of mourning. She mourned for the duckling and the memories it could have had, and yet she also mourned for her own self. The minnow so desperately desired that she could reverse time and stop her outlash before any bloodshed. The life the daughter of the captain had before her first kill had been one of carefree enjoyment at the world. But now? Sylvina experienced more than guilt — she felt fear.

Fear at what she was capable of. Fear of whether she could even control herself in contradiction to the awful moment where her body overtook her mind. Fear at if she would harm her own family. She was constantly paranoid. And so she would always be tense, always on high alert as if that would help any in stopping her violent outlashes. It had to help, she had nothing left to try.

Sylvina would pause besides Gabriel and her grandfather, olive eyes full of sorrow as she stared upon the deceased body of Desperado. She hadn’t really known him much except for a few encounters here and there, yet as a crewmate she couldn’t help but feel bad for the large canine. He had been wise and a great asset to the Typhoon — the Bengal couldn’t help but wonder what caused him to perish.