08-15-2018, 11:36 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]//my muse is awful but hello again lmao
Gabriel had his moments of questioning himself, of doubting his own decisions and who he was becoming, but he couldn't say he had been caught between such extremes as either side of where the pendulum swung. Couldn't he? When a mission would go south, when he lost one too many people -civilian or soldier- and when the aftermath hit more like a storm than a respite, he did have vulnerable moments in solitude when he wondered whether he was a good man, or if necessity had stolen his ability to decipher what good was. Those thoughts chased him during daylight, tortured him at night, until it all came to a head when he lost whatever embers had kept him going and he was drowning in self-doubt. It'd obscured everything he'd worked for, had turned every partial accomplishment into a sour aftertaste. What if you're not doing the right thing? What if you're hurting more than you're helping? Look at how you've changed- you can't even recognize yourself.
Following that fuck-up of a choice, he landed in an even more physical confusion of self. The hybridized mess he woke up in was nothing like the canine he used to be, and for all his beliefs when he was younger about character making the man, not physicality, he'd felt...disconnected in a way he never had before. It took weeks for Gabriel to realize that the reflection in puddles he passed by belonged to him, that the owl-face was Gabriel, not some other idiot. Those days had passed like trudging through a bog, unable to catch a glimpse of the sun and wearing down with each step. He wished he could say reaching the other side meant something, but even now, he'd occasionally startle when he saw himself, expecting expressive brown eyes over empty pitch.
It certainly didn't help matters when he was in the middle of purposely deluding himself, though the injuries made that a bit easier. Only a bit, because he gave a shit about the person who caused them, and he'd started to give a shit about the person who patched him up when he shouldn't have. Just one more dilemma to lose himself in, tripping through another cycle of should and shouldn't.
At least he didn't give his mind conflicting signals about taking a walk around the place. Gabe could enjoy a stroll, couldn't he? It was fine. Everything was fine.
Or maybe not.
The owl-cat's gaze roamed over his clanmates first, landing with finality on the inky lioness. Gabe would say she seemed confused, but it was more than that, something sharper than mere befuddlement. Colder, like her demeanor, and he suspected that for all her arctic demeanor, there were churning waters beneath, choppy and hiding shapes both predatory and quarry. "This is The Typhoon. I'm Gabe. Got anywhere to go? There's room for one more if you need a rest."
[align=right][i]——INFO
Gabriel had his moments of questioning himself, of doubting his own decisions and who he was becoming, but he couldn't say he had been caught between such extremes as either side of where the pendulum swung. Couldn't he? When a mission would go south, when he lost one too many people -civilian or soldier- and when the aftermath hit more like a storm than a respite, he did have vulnerable moments in solitude when he wondered whether he was a good man, or if necessity had stolen his ability to decipher what good was. Those thoughts chased him during daylight, tortured him at night, until it all came to a head when he lost whatever embers had kept him going and he was drowning in self-doubt. It'd obscured everything he'd worked for, had turned every partial accomplishment into a sour aftertaste. What if you're not doing the right thing? What if you're hurting more than you're helping? Look at how you've changed- you can't even recognize yourself.
Following that fuck-up of a choice, he landed in an even more physical confusion of self. The hybridized mess he woke up in was nothing like the canine he used to be, and for all his beliefs when he was younger about character making the man, not physicality, he'd felt...disconnected in a way he never had before. It took weeks for Gabriel to realize that the reflection in puddles he passed by belonged to him, that the owl-face was Gabriel, not some other idiot. Those days had passed like trudging through a bog, unable to catch a glimpse of the sun and wearing down with each step. He wished he could say reaching the other side meant something, but even now, he'd occasionally startle when he saw himself, expecting expressive brown eyes over empty pitch.
It certainly didn't help matters when he was in the middle of purposely deluding himself, though the injuries made that a bit easier. Only a bit, because he gave a shit about the person who caused them, and he'd started to give a shit about the person who patched him up when he shouldn't have. Just one more dilemma to lose himself in, tripping through another cycle of should and shouldn't.
At least he didn't give his mind conflicting signals about taking a walk around the place. Gabe could enjoy a stroll, couldn't he? It was fine. Everything was fine.
Or maybe not.
The owl-cat's gaze roamed over his clanmates first, landing with finality on the inky lioness. Gabe would say she seemed confused, but it was more than that, something sharper than mere befuddlement. Colder, like her demeanor, and he suspected that for all her arctic demeanor, there were churning waters beneath, choppy and hiding shapes both predatory and quarry. "This is The Typhoon. I'm Gabe. Got anywhere to go? There's room for one more if you need a rest."
[align=right][i]——INFO
[align=center][table][tr][td]
I'M
[/td][td]FADING
[/td][td]FADING
[/td][td]MUCH TOO FAST
[/td][/tr][/table]