11-13-2018, 12:14 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]There was a wide array of vices that Des engaged in whenever his demons started to become too much. He smoked, drank and brooded until the dawn broke through the darkness, and then he hid everything like he didn't break apart each evening and put those broken pieces back together, each harder to pick up than the last. His smiles were getting harsher, the warmth in his gaze more strained. As much as he wanted to offer the world the kindness he never got, it was getting harder with each passing day that nothing seemed to actually change. He was still the old Desperado, the murderer, the fraud, the liar. The good he did now seemed to be so trivial and incapable of changing his past or even overshadowing it.
But he still tried, even when each cigarette never worked as good as the last, and it took more drinks to get him to black out. The only problem was that he knew it led to his quickly deteriorating health, the body he inhabited not built to withstand so many chemicals he shoved into it on the daily. As hard as it was and as much as he still indulged in the vices more than the average person, Des was trying his hardest to change. The water made it easier, the waves lapping at his body calming him when everything else seemed to fail. It was always there, always steady - the salt cleaned him, refreshed him, and the water seemed to lick at both his physical and mental wounds. It was hardly a solution, but it worked better than most of his other temporary fixes, and so it was why he was drawn so much to the waters that surrounded the Typhoon, and why it had taken him so long to leave. It was why he came back.
And it was why he was there right now, wading through the waters and humming a tune he vaguely recalled idly under his breath. It was a strange mix of a folk song he had learned in his youth with a far more melancholy tone than it had originally been made in, but it seemed to soothe him as much as the waters did. He wasn't sure what he was looking for (maybe he wasn't looking for anything), but it seemed that somehow he found something regardless, abandoned and shimmering in the clear waters. It was nothing complicated, just a simple piece of jewelry, sterling silver and largely simple compared to the other jewels that already adorned Desperado's body, but it seemed worthy enough for him to add it to his collection. There was a pause, then he lifted the necklace above his neck, letting it rest on his chest where his others were already located.
It didn't help much with his predicament, as his problems still existed no matter how many pendants he wore, but at least it made the weight a bit lighter on his shoulders. If he had to walk through hell, he figured he'd stay longer if he felt good doing it.
But he still tried, even when each cigarette never worked as good as the last, and it took more drinks to get him to black out. The only problem was that he knew it led to his quickly deteriorating health, the body he inhabited not built to withstand so many chemicals he shoved into it on the daily. As hard as it was and as much as he still indulged in the vices more than the average person, Des was trying his hardest to change. The water made it easier, the waves lapping at his body calming him when everything else seemed to fail. It was always there, always steady - the salt cleaned him, refreshed him, and the water seemed to lick at both his physical and mental wounds. It was hardly a solution, but it worked better than most of his other temporary fixes, and so it was why he was drawn so much to the waters that surrounded the Typhoon, and why it had taken him so long to leave. It was why he came back.
And it was why he was there right now, wading through the waters and humming a tune he vaguely recalled idly under his breath. It was a strange mix of a folk song he had learned in his youth with a far more melancholy tone than it had originally been made in, but it seemed to soothe him as much as the waters did. He wasn't sure what he was looking for (maybe he wasn't looking for anything), but it seemed that somehow he found something regardless, abandoned and shimmering in the clear waters. It was nothing complicated, just a simple piece of jewelry, sterling silver and largely simple compared to the other jewels that already adorned Desperado's body, but it seemed worthy enough for him to add it to his collection. There was a pause, then he lifted the necklace above his neck, letting it rest on his chest where his others were already located.
It didn't help much with his predicament, as his problems still existed no matter how many pendants he wore, but at least it made the weight a bit lighter on his shoulders. If he had to walk through hell, he figured he'd stay longer if he felt good doing it.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden