11-03-2018, 10:59 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]I dun diddly did it [member=1479]GABRIEL[/member]
He never bothered coming back to his past. It had a funny way of haunting him wherever he went, and sometimes things that were left behind were easier to forget than those he continued doting on. But whether it was because he was an idiot or because he had a rather unpredictable habit, there were a few things that Des couldn't care much about forgetting. He wasn't a man who held grudges easily (they faded away almost as quick as his smokes) but memories were far harder to let go.
In reality, there wasn't really much for him to go off of. He was sure he didn't know Gabriel half as well as his clanmates did, and that Gabriel didn't know half as much about him as he thought he did, but there was something about the man that made the silence so much more bearable. His mind inevitably returned to the past no matter how much he ran from it, and Gabe's face was there with mounting frequency every time he closed his eyes to rest.
Yet there was something about the Ascendants that didn't quite rub Desperado the right way. He didn't hold grudges, but he did sure hold regrets... and this place was full of them. That, among other reasons, was why he had left without a word, and why he hadn't bothered to come back. He only just returned to the Typhoon, and he hadn't spent long enough for the scent to rub off on him yet. No, all he smelled like was the wilderness, smoke, and blood. It hadn't dried off yet from his time away from civilization, although we was happy to admit it wasn't because anyone had died. He couldn't promise someone didn't have a broken nose, though.
He had left without a goodbye because he figured that it would hurt less. It was always hard to run when you had something to fight for, and separating yourself from it made it easier. That was, until he had started to think back again like he always inevitably did. Gabriel wasn't the only one who haunted his memories, and the lion had hoped that it would somehow convince himself that he shouldn't come back because the man, in the long run, wasn't special. He was just another face that would settle down once enough time had passed, until he forgot the man's name and he was nothing but a sour taste on his tongue whenever a particularly violent nightmare ripped him out of his sleep. He had promised himself he wouldn't come back.
He was starting to go back on those promises a lot.
A deep exhale left Desperado's lungs, this time void of smoke. There was nothing but the fresh oxygen filtering through as he tried to clear his head, hoping he wasn't opening some box he shouldn't have been touching. Gabriel could have been dead. That, or the first person to meet him would be one of the other members of the Ascendants, and then he'd have to explain just how pathetic he was. Or maybe it'd be both. He'd have to find out from the mouth of some stranger that the man was dead, and there was nothing else left for him here.
It'd hurt less that way, maybe. He'd never have to deal with the sight of Gabriel's dead body like he had to deal with in regards to previous people he had befriended.
Yet the thought itself was enough to freeze him to the ground, claws digging into the soft soil beneath them, teeth gritted and mind begging for a cigarette. He still waited, though. He was starting to become soft, and running was starting to become a lot harder.
He never bothered coming back to his past. It had a funny way of haunting him wherever he went, and sometimes things that were left behind were easier to forget than those he continued doting on. But whether it was because he was an idiot or because he had a rather unpredictable habit, there were a few things that Des couldn't care much about forgetting. He wasn't a man who held grudges easily (they faded away almost as quick as his smokes) but memories were far harder to let go.
In reality, there wasn't really much for him to go off of. He was sure he didn't know Gabriel half as well as his clanmates did, and that Gabriel didn't know half as much about him as he thought he did, but there was something about the man that made the silence so much more bearable. His mind inevitably returned to the past no matter how much he ran from it, and Gabe's face was there with mounting frequency every time he closed his eyes to rest.
Yet there was something about the Ascendants that didn't quite rub Desperado the right way. He didn't hold grudges, but he did sure hold regrets... and this place was full of them. That, among other reasons, was why he had left without a word, and why he hadn't bothered to come back. He only just returned to the Typhoon, and he hadn't spent long enough for the scent to rub off on him yet. No, all he smelled like was the wilderness, smoke, and blood. It hadn't dried off yet from his time away from civilization, although we was happy to admit it wasn't because anyone had died. He couldn't promise someone didn't have a broken nose, though.
He had left without a goodbye because he figured that it would hurt less. It was always hard to run when you had something to fight for, and separating yourself from it made it easier. That was, until he had started to think back again like he always inevitably did. Gabriel wasn't the only one who haunted his memories, and the lion had hoped that it would somehow convince himself that he shouldn't come back because the man, in the long run, wasn't special. He was just another face that would settle down once enough time had passed, until he forgot the man's name and he was nothing but a sour taste on his tongue whenever a particularly violent nightmare ripped him out of his sleep. He had promised himself he wouldn't come back.
He was starting to go back on those promises a lot.
A deep exhale left Desperado's lungs, this time void of smoke. There was nothing but the fresh oxygen filtering through as he tried to clear his head, hoping he wasn't opening some box he shouldn't have been touching. Gabriel could have been dead. That, or the first person to meet him would be one of the other members of the Ascendants, and then he'd have to explain just how pathetic he was. Or maybe it'd be both. He'd have to find out from the mouth of some stranger that the man was dead, and there was nothing else left for him here.
It'd hurt less that way, maybe. He'd never have to deal with the sight of Gabriel's dead body like he had to deal with in regards to previous people he had befriended.
Yet the thought itself was enough to freeze him to the ground, claws digging into the soft soil beneath them, teeth gritted and mind begging for a cigarette. He still waited, though. He was starting to become soft, and running was starting to become a lot harder.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden