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*･ﾟ✧ / BETA / 08 MONTHS
For Georgia, death wasn’t new. The death of a loved one even less so. However, it wasn’t something she cared to find herself familiar with. Her experience with it was too recent, too bubbled in the front of her mind. Most days she ignored it. Most days, she overlooked it. Shoved down the grief in her heart.
On this day, there was a wail that rang through the air; when people started heading towards Goldie’s hut, Georgia’s ears pricked. She was either nosy or completely out of the loop — there was no in between. She often found herself curious about her mentor and her personal life, but chose to leave it alone in favor of naps on the beach. Today, however, she was entirely too nosy.
The sight that greeted her as she trailed after the crowd was...horrifying. Grieving clanmates; the foul stench of a body no longer living. Heartbeats stretched into minutes; her vision tunneled.
Her memory of this day was blurry: a single, still figure in a clearing; warm, wet blood sinking between her toes. Rage, howling wind, lashing rain. Thunder. Standing so still she thought she’d been paralyzed. So much to unpack, so little that was actually done. Georgia hated that memory. Hated how blurry it was. How her brain twisted it so she could only remember sensations and feelings instead of the actual events.
She sat down heavily, completely zoned. Completely oblivious to the entirety of the outside world. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she stared, unblinking, at the ground. It wasn’t Sam that lay on the floor of the hut; it was her father. There were no calm skies outside. Only hell and wind and rain.
Suddenly, a commotion yanked her out of her own head; Roxanne and Aphra, getting into it. Rage suddenly boiled, hot and bloody in Georgia’s bones, and her hackles raised. Her eyes flashed brilliant white for a moment, and a wind burst into the hut. The gale wrapped around Roxanne and Aphra, aiming to shove them away from everyone else.
”Stop it!” She shrieked, enraged. “Someone has died and you have the fucking audacity to do something like this? The hell is wrong with you?” Georgia herself was now participating in the commotion as the wind pried at the two adults, attempting to separate them, but she didn’t really care. All she could see was red red red, her vision burning at the edges. Her father was dead and these two had the balls to start a fight? On his deathbed? Georgia didn’t acknowledge her mix up, or her confusion of the scene. She was furious, and these two would feel the brunt of it. “If you’re going to act like fucking children then you can leave!”
On this day, there was a wail that rang through the air; when people started heading towards Goldie’s hut, Georgia’s ears pricked. She was either nosy or completely out of the loop — there was no in between. She often found herself curious about her mentor and her personal life, but chose to leave it alone in favor of naps on the beach. Today, however, she was entirely too nosy.
The sight that greeted her as she trailed after the crowd was...horrifying. Grieving clanmates; the foul stench of a body no longer living. Heartbeats stretched into minutes; her vision tunneled.
Her memory of this day was blurry: a single, still figure in a clearing; warm, wet blood sinking between her toes. Rage, howling wind, lashing rain. Thunder. Standing so still she thought she’d been paralyzed. So much to unpack, so little that was actually done. Georgia hated that memory. Hated how blurry it was. How her brain twisted it so she could only remember sensations and feelings instead of the actual events.
She sat down heavily, completely zoned. Completely oblivious to the entirety of the outside world. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she stared, unblinking, at the ground. It wasn’t Sam that lay on the floor of the hut; it was her father. There were no calm skies outside. Only hell and wind and rain.
Suddenly, a commotion yanked her out of her own head; Roxanne and Aphra, getting into it. Rage suddenly boiled, hot and bloody in Georgia’s bones, and her hackles raised. Her eyes flashed brilliant white for a moment, and a wind burst into the hut. The gale wrapped around Roxanne and Aphra, aiming to shove them away from everyone else.
”Stop it!” She shrieked, enraged. “Someone has died and you have the fucking audacity to do something like this? The hell is wrong with you?” Georgia herself was now participating in the commotion as the wind pried at the two adults, attempting to separate them, but she didn’t really care. All she could see was red red red, her vision burning at the edges. Her father was dead and these two had the balls to start a fight? On his deathbed? Georgia didn’t acknowledge her mix up, or her confusion of the scene. She was furious, and these two would feel the brunt of it. “If you’re going to act like fucking children then you can leave!”
© LEXASPERATED/APRICOT
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[glow=#3e4242,200,600]YOU ARE THE RITE OF MOVEMENT[/glow]
*:･ﾟ✧ — georgia sarris-rosi — demigod of the sea — tags