05-05-2018, 07:38 PM
[div style="background-color: white; width: 100%; font-family: Georgia; color: #576a6e; text-align: center; margin: auto"]BASTILLEPAW AURELIUS ✧
the ascendants — kuiper corporal — tags
[div style="line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; color: black; padding-top: 10px; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]the ascendants — kuiper corporal — tags
Bastille was... having mixed feelings about the whole elemental-powers-blowing-up situation. It was obviously horrible for several reasons, but aside from that first storm, they seemed significantly less destructive. He couldn't actually control them, or at least not all that time, which was annoying as all hell for someone who had been born with complete control over his powers; he didn't know what it meant to learn how to use them, or to learn control. When his emotions flared, so did the weather, apparently. That was frustrating in and of itself.
However, the headaches were gone. There'd been a near constant throbbing in his head for months, accompanied by a sense of restlessness that would not go away no longer how hard he tried to work off energy. Within the last week he'd stopped sleeping, only catching a few hours here and there when he finally crashed and practically collapsed into a nap at random times. All of that was just... gone. As if things had been steadily getting worse, building up, until it all just exploded and vanished with the first introduction of his new powers. So, he sort of hated them, but he also sort of felt so fucking relieved by the sudden lack of pain that he was almost... happy.
After a few days of experimentally trying to flex control of his powers (he found that sometimes they responded when he initiated and sometimes they didn't), Bast decided to revisit his bunker project. They first time he'd tried to get to work on it, they had pretty much just worked on blueprints and a strategy for actually putting it all together before calling it quits for the day. The wood planks and other materials he'd conjured for the job were still just lying there until they came up with a better plan, albeit a bit wet and tossed about after Bastille's storm.
The bengal studied the stacks of things for a few moments, and then they simply caught fire. Hey, he needed this wood out of his way, and this was one of the fastest ways to do it. He sat back as they burned and studied his blueprints once more, before studying the ground around him where he envisioned his bunker. In theory, if his powers continued to listen to him, they didn't need a building plan if he could force the earth to mold and shape the bunker for him. He just had to figure out how, and what material he was working with, here.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]