THAT BOY WENT STONE COLD CRAZY ☆ bottle

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IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE DONE IT [align=right]BUT YOU CAN'T KNOW WHY    —    tags 

Slowly but surely, the boy is recalling things. Far too grand for his young mind to entirely process on its own, he has acknowledged this, and has stopped trying to ignore it, along with keeping it all to himself to figure it out by himself. Neither methods were working thus far. And now, he has someone he trusts enough to hold onto some memories, some thoughts, some emotions, too. Just as he would talk through most things with his brother, let them try to understand it all together, rather than holding everything for themselves. It hurt less. And, if nothing else, it was not so lonely, not so scary. He had someone else that could at least try to listen, try to understand with him, help him work things out through his own means. And now, the flames that had licked at his fur remain subsided, static is quiet, voices have nothing to say. Besides in his dreams. Sleep was never as kind as consciousness. But, that was a reality he has long since gotten used to.

But maybe, one day, if he was lucky, he could learn to move past that, too.

For now, it is all confusing, and terrifying.
But, he'll figure it out. He isn't alone anymore.

To be a weapon is to be soulless, mindless, let go of any morals. He was meant to be such a way, but the doctor messed up. And now they've all experienced death, at least once. For some reason, however, he's been given the second chance. Perhaps it was because he died last. He held onto life the longest. Even in his last few moments, he clung to it. It was all he had. If he didn't, then everything Bo and him went through, Bo's sacrifice...it would have all been for nothing. It couldn't have been for nothing. Maybe that's why he was still alive, even if different, in another world, in a different body, within a strange new society. The experiment had been let out of his chains by something. Before, he'd no concepts of afterlives, Gods, and higher beings. No one did, really, as far as he had been taught. But, this universe seemed so full of it. Those ideas of greater powers. Maybe it was true. He still didn't really know, though. There were too many possibilities to know for sure, and, in the end, he is not so sure it is important. It never was before. All he can really know, is that he cannot waste this life anymore.

He only knows of many Tanglewood members. It has been a slow journey trying to settle in to this place he should learn to call home. There is too much to account for, too much to learn, to take the time to really go out and introduce himself. It is scary, too. What if they did not like him? What if he was not a good friend? What if they got hurt? He did not want to lose control. He did not want to hurt anyone. He never did. Because of this, he only knew of Leroy. He spoke to the canine once before, if he recalls correctly (which, to be fair, may not be the most reliable source), and it wasn't really a conversation, more of an offer of help. So, the death of him would hit him with mostly indifference. He is upset to hear someone die. It is not a good thing. But, it isn't something he's taken much time to think over, and his father has not brought it up so much around him either, so he'd not much reason to consider it. All he could say for certain was that it was sad, and that he was sorry to hear it happen, and the dog would be missed. Painfully plain.

He'd little idea that the death hurt his own father so much, but he did know that he so badly wanted the male to slow down. He worked too much, too hard. And, he has tried to voice this, at least a few times now. But, in the end, he could not control him. The tiger had not slept much the night before, and such a state has likely become quite clearly obvious towards his dad by now. There's not much that could be done about it. There was a much more safe feeling, being by the lion's side, but it could only go so far in the end. By the time he's noticed the male has stepped out, the boy could feel the morning cold bite at his body. He stretches out, looking around quietly with his orange eyes, as he does every morning, before taking into account that his father must have already headed out. He is not so sure he wishes to go out today. He has been trying, the past few days, but he needs a break, he thinks. He will, at the very least, go to their porch, and look to his surroundings, to the sky. He will do that always. The world is too beautiful to remain inside.

The boy has seemed to have caught his father, though, before he has headed out. To see his head pressed up against such an object, however, would cause the boy to freeze. He'd no idea of the sentimentality behind the bottle, but he did know of the effects...those awful reactions to it. He frowns shakily. He's certain his father has not drank any of it, just from the look of the thing, but seeing it still, he cannot help but feel an all too familiar fear settle in. "What...What's that?" he would almost whisper the question, trying to get a hold on himself. It was clear, Aurum was upset over something. He couldn't bring himself to move closer to it, though.