08-13-2020, 08:45 PM
[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 60%; min-height: 8px; font-family: arial; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 25px"]Devland's thoughts on death were always tangled and twisted, and try as he might, he always found himself unsure of his feelings towards it. In his short life, he had not made bitter enemies with death; he had seen a handful of others die, but he had never been left reeling or desperate to turn back time. The night he had escaped, there had been plenty of death, he was sure, but other than it being a reminder of how lucky he was, it did not haunt his dreams, upset his eating patterns, or make him regret any of his choices.
Things were different here though. Not for him, he knew, but for others. The Typhoon was a true family. Death was felt in waves here, and the undertow caught hold of all its members. Devland was just new enough to escape the tide, but as Goldenluxury's pained shrieks reached him, he wondered how long he would be able to avoid the currents. He blinked at his inner-selfishness, but trudged on, guided by a strange, nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he assumed was grotesque curiosity.
There was a gathering outside the home, and once he was close enough, he could hear how Goldie's agonized screams had melted into sobs. The air was so heavy with grief that Devland felt suffocated. His ears pinned back to his skull, and he peaked inside the home. In his quick observation, he saw confused children, comforting relatives and friends, an immensely broken woman, and a too-alive corpse. Though he was by no means close to the home, he found himself backing up another few steps. There were too many emotions, and he didn't have the capacity to begin to understand it all.
He sat down slowly, eyeing the fallout from a safe distance. Where the house was alight was sounds of mourning, Devland was perfectly silent - a rare occurrence. As if realizing that, he hummed softly to himself. He wondered if he ought to offer his condolences, but that task seemed monumental. Besides, no matter how sweetly and delicately he crafted his words, he couldn't wax poetic about death. He didn't even want to try, so he opted for observing the aftermath with a contemplative, cool expression.
Things were different here though. Not for him, he knew, but for others. The Typhoon was a true family. Death was felt in waves here, and the undertow caught hold of all its members. Devland was just new enough to escape the tide, but as Goldenluxury's pained shrieks reached him, he wondered how long he would be able to avoid the currents. He blinked at his inner-selfishness, but trudged on, guided by a strange, nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he assumed was grotesque curiosity.
There was a gathering outside the home, and once he was close enough, he could hear how Goldie's agonized screams had melted into sobs. The air was so heavy with grief that Devland felt suffocated. His ears pinned back to his skull, and he peaked inside the home. In his quick observation, he saw confused children, comforting relatives and friends, an immensely broken woman, and a too-alive corpse. Though he was by no means close to the home, he found himself backing up another few steps. There were too many emotions, and he didn't have the capacity to begin to understand it all.
He sat down slowly, eyeing the fallout from a safe distance. Where the house was alight was sounds of mourning, Devland was perfectly silent - a rare occurrence. As if realizing that, he hummed softly to himself. He wondered if he ought to offer his condolences, but that task seemed monumental. Besides, no matter how sweetly and delicately he crafted his words, he couldn't wax poetic about death. He didn't even want to try, so he opted for observing the aftermath with a contemplative, cool expression.
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[glow=black,200,600]all of your flaws and all of my flaws[/glow]
devland taji / the typhoon / beta / tags / penned by redamancy
[glow=black,1,100]they lie there hand in hand