YOU'LL KNOW I WASN'T JOKING WHEN YOU SEE THEM TOO
if you find this u are awesome
It's hard to forget certain things, the way her mind unhealthily latches to the bad of every given situation, how to seems only to remember the bad. She inherently knows her home wasn't as destructive as she remembers it being. That her mother actually cared for her. That it pained her grandfather to see his nephew crying on her birthday. She knew that bloodclan loved her- embraced her in the only way it knew how to. Developed her into the person she was today. Yet when she looks back, looks at herself now she only sees the bad. She only sees the conditioned monster she was programmed to be, the pride and arrogance. The stuck it to you attitude that she was taught to have. She knew that it was bloodclan who taught her to care about others but never show it. The clan that taught her to hold her cards close to her chest and never reveal anything unless a plan of execution was set. Taught her to be impulsive- to go with the flow to a very fine point edged with unstable control.
See Argus had a family. She remembers the gentle smiles of jingle bells as she encouraged Argus- & taught her how to fly. Remembers Adolphus helping her learn which snakes were venomous & what to do if one bit you. Remembers scorpion sting pushing her to be better and encouraging her along the way. Remembers Jace's steady guidance through it all. She remembers what family is meant to mean to the normal person. Knows that it starts with a mother and father and a few siblings. She knows she never had something like that.
But she has had family, she remembers the gentle caress of being loved, the power to do anything and everything for them. When had she lost her way from that? When had she pushed aside her family- her home for that? It is a long tale to tell indeed, and memories Argus does not have the mindset to study as carefully as she wishes to. She only knows she was created slowly. That somewhere along the way her core beliefs shifted and her loyalty has shifted from clan-family to a family of her own- to the ghosts of that family. Those who keep her from forgetting, who whisper in the back of her mind to remember and to never forget. Forgetting is to die, and to give up is worse than death.
Argus is so tired though, so very tired of trying to be someone she is not, tires of becoming a bigger beast to fit others perceptions of her. She is tired, and she had chosen a home to rest. It is just life’s irony that an old enemy would come and demand the answers she was not ready to give. Much less to herself. And he doesn't remember she was stricken by the impulse to laugh, to indulge on the edges of her fraying mind and loose whatever control she clung to now. She is almost tempted to dive headfirst- and see if either one of them would survive the brutal brawl here on the border. If she could put that hollow memory of watching killua die the same way her son did. Yet she knows what the feeling of that is like, knows how hollow revenge is when finished. Just like killing, it was almost as useless as it is to continue to life, to struggle and watch as everyone around her dies again.
She lets out a sharp bark of laughter that edges on hysterical as Killua contenues. Cutting off his tandem for a moment. Argust politefully stops herself from responding there. Keeping her head bowed and her eyes closed. Trying not to…. Not to what? Scream, cry? Lash out? Probably all of the three. I am a different person since you have killed my son she was no longer Obscuro. No longer allowing herself to wallow in the death of her young, her mate- her life No- no Argus was different argus was…
What was argus?
She breathes deeply through her nose, and is greeted by the scent of blood. She jolts, dark eyes brightening into a more brilliant gleam as she seizes the other within her gaze, looking dangerous and hungry.
“Fuck kill, if you’re trying to get yourself killed, that is a good place to start” The wolf joked, but her voice fell lackluster, hollow with dull need thrumming through her veins and… gratitude. She was glad that he at least pulled her out of… whatever that was. Now wasn’t the best place to go questioning her existence.
His second statement caught her attention. And she smiled a devious smile, head lifting to gently dip to the side, a canine response of half curious, half mocking. “Oh, and what was his name? Who sent you on that mission i wonder.” She crooned “would’ve loved to see it, from my perspective, that place gets all that’s coming to em” She didn’t amididly know much about the Zoldychs beside their knack for assassinations. A small clan that specialized in only thus, Their late mentor had told of them, if only briefly. The nomad disappearing before she could give much detail, and Argus wasn’t too interested at the time, too busy trying to survive the training she was put through. By the time the name had become relevant- Her mentor had already left, the nomad taking her mate and running to windhaven.
Now she watches the other more closely, hunger tinting her vision a wonderful hue of red. Bloodlust clouds her judgement at the best of times, and she is unsure if it is the conviction to see killula flinch at her own words that keeps her from lunging. She takes a cautious step forward, gauging his reaction to that too. He looks too… too confused. He looks familiar not in a way that she had seen him before, but seen before nonetheless. Seen on her precious puppet’s faces. It itches at her something about this perception is wrong. His outburst was definitely not aimed at her, and she tries to file that away for later. To analyze about this little puppet that stumbled too far from it’s master, ah- it’s all clicking together now.
“My name is no longer important, for I have moved on.” step “My son’s name was Kanato Harbringer-Ecuador-Varies-Grimm. His mother’s name was Hecate Grimm. Kanato was tortured by the leader: Gunstar- your mentor- before he was demoted by the star council and went missing. You took my son and delivered him to me, and he died on the border” step, step “I am not surprised you don’t remember him, for you have killed many, hmm?” And suddenly her head snaps the other direction, head making a pop at the sharp angle.
“I’m surprised you’ve lived this long honestly… Hardly anyone does.” Her voice was slightly quited now, almost as if speaking in her namesake- a whisper. “Where did you run to i wonder? What do you remember? Conflicting story from mine, I assume.” Argus wonders what it’ll look like to smash the controller of her new interest. Would killula be sad? Would he realize what she has done for him? Doubtless, many do not see it as being freed- as much as they do being driven insane.
See Argus had a family. She remembers the gentle smiles of jingle bells as she encouraged Argus- & taught her how to fly. Remembers Adolphus helping her learn which snakes were venomous & what to do if one bit you. Remembers scorpion sting pushing her to be better and encouraging her along the way. Remembers Jace's steady guidance through it all. She remembers what family is meant to mean to the normal person. Knows that it starts with a mother and father and a few siblings. She knows she never had something like that.
But she has had family, she remembers the gentle caress of being loved, the power to do anything and everything for them. When had she lost her way from that? When had she pushed aside her family- her home for that? It is a long tale to tell indeed, and memories Argus does not have the mindset to study as carefully as she wishes to. She only knows she was created slowly. That somewhere along the way her core beliefs shifted and her loyalty has shifted from clan-family to a family of her own- to the ghosts of that family. Those who keep her from forgetting, who whisper in the back of her mind to remember and to never forget. Forgetting is to die, and to give up is worse than death.
Argus is so tired though, so very tired of trying to be someone she is not, tires of becoming a bigger beast to fit others perceptions of her. She is tired, and she had chosen a home to rest. It is just life’s irony that an old enemy would come and demand the answers she was not ready to give. Much less to herself. And he doesn't remember she was stricken by the impulse to laugh, to indulge on the edges of her fraying mind and loose whatever control she clung to now. She is almost tempted to dive headfirst- and see if either one of them would survive the brutal brawl here on the border. If she could put that hollow memory of watching killua die the same way her son did. Yet she knows what the feeling of that is like, knows how hollow revenge is when finished. Just like killing, it was almost as useless as it is to continue to life, to struggle and watch as everyone around her dies again.
She lets out a sharp bark of laughter that edges on hysterical as Killua contenues. Cutting off his tandem for a moment. Argust politefully stops herself from responding there. Keeping her head bowed and her eyes closed. Trying not to…. Not to what? Scream, cry? Lash out? Probably all of the three. I am a different person since you have killed my son she was no longer Obscuro. No longer allowing herself to wallow in the death of her young, her mate- her life No- no Argus was different argus was…
What was argus?
She breathes deeply through her nose, and is greeted by the scent of blood. She jolts, dark eyes brightening into a more brilliant gleam as she seizes the other within her gaze, looking dangerous and hungry.
“Fuck kill, if you’re trying to get yourself killed, that is a good place to start” The wolf joked, but her voice fell lackluster, hollow with dull need thrumming through her veins and… gratitude. She was glad that he at least pulled her out of… whatever that was. Now wasn’t the best place to go questioning her existence.
His second statement caught her attention. And she smiled a devious smile, head lifting to gently dip to the side, a canine response of half curious, half mocking. “Oh, and what was his name? Who sent you on that mission i wonder.” She crooned “would’ve loved to see it, from my perspective, that place gets all that’s coming to em” She didn’t amididly know much about the Zoldychs beside their knack for assassinations. A small clan that specialized in only thus, Their late mentor had told of them, if only briefly. The nomad disappearing before she could give much detail, and Argus wasn’t too interested at the time, too busy trying to survive the training she was put through. By the time the name had become relevant- Her mentor had already left, the nomad taking her mate and running to windhaven.
Now she watches the other more closely, hunger tinting her vision a wonderful hue of red. Bloodlust clouds her judgement at the best of times, and she is unsure if it is the conviction to see killula flinch at her own words that keeps her from lunging. She takes a cautious step forward, gauging his reaction to that too. He looks too… too confused. He looks familiar not in a way that she had seen him before, but seen before nonetheless. Seen on her precious puppet’s faces. It itches at her something about this perception is wrong. His outburst was definitely not aimed at her, and she tries to file that away for later. To analyze about this little puppet that stumbled too far from it’s master, ah- it’s all clicking together now.
“My name is no longer important, for I have moved on.” step “My son’s name was Kanato Harbringer-Ecuador-Varies-Grimm. His mother’s name was Hecate Grimm. Kanato was tortured by the leader: Gunstar- your mentor- before he was demoted by the star council and went missing. You took my son and delivered him to me, and he died on the border” step, step “I am not surprised you don’t remember him, for you have killed many, hmm?” And suddenly her head snaps the other direction, head making a pop at the sharp angle.
“I’m surprised you’ve lived this long honestly… Hardly anyone does.” Her voice was slightly quited now, almost as if speaking in her namesake- a whisper. “Where did you run to i wonder? What do you remember? Conflicting story from mine, I assume.” Argus wonders what it’ll look like to smash the controller of her new interest. Would killula be sad? Would he realize what she has done for him? Doubtless, many do not see it as being freed- as much as they do being driven insane.