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    Beasts of Beyond Other Archived Roleplay Neutral Grounds Private Rendezvous sorry mom, sorry god 》goldie

    sorry mom, sorry god 》goldie
    riftweaver
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      Silas Draek
    #1
    01-24-2021, 02:32 PM
    [align=center]

    RIFTWEAVER
    [div style="background-color:#242924;width:90%;max-height:200px;overflow: auto;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: white;"] "speech"

    Things definitely hadn't been easy for the Roux family. It seemed like every time they got to a good place, a place where they were happy, something happened to throw it all off. Half of his family didn't understand him, the other half was just embarrassed to be around him. Brandyskies hated him, Seabound had hardly spoken to him in weeks, and Roxanne was clearly disapproving of his decisions and actions.

    Not that he blamed her. His decisions had been questionable at best, downright idiotic at worst. Things were off with him from the moment he got back, and having the truth revealed in front of everyone about his true origin had not helped others accept him. He was the strange one, the anomaly. The thing that nobody could explain.

    Yet, he held hope that Goldenluxery would see him no differently than she had when he was whole. He held a flame, flickering and weak as it was, of hope that she would see her son, and not just Brandyskies flaws and weaknesses manifested into reality. He found himself drawn to her place of residence, poking his head inside and glancing about. "Mama? Can I talk to you?" He tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke, but a crack seeped through anyway. Rift blinked and stepped inside, taking a rattling breath. "I don't know how much you remember.. but I'm not doing so good right now, mama."

    //oof sad boi Rift
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      WEEPINGSHADE
    #2
    01-25-2021, 08:29 PM
    DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
    your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
        but the clouds are clearing up
            and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                                  like a bastard on the burning sea.

    YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
    BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.
    Perhaps it was a Roux curse; the way life went. But no, probably not, it was simply just the weight of being alive in general, no matter who you were, where you came from. It took and gave as it pleased. Whether or not karma was real, it was undeniable that bad decisions usually lead to bar outcomes, and the same being true for the opposite side of things as well. Either way, things would always have the potential to be better, just as they could be worse. It was hard to deny, though, that things were less than ideal for a majority of the Roux family now. It was a simple effect, of the events that had unfolded over the past three months, not that Goldie was certain over what exactly all had happened anymore. No one seemed eager to speak about it, and she wasn't one to push with something like that.

    It wasn't exactly on the forefront of her mind, anyway. At least, not directly. The tigress was focused on many different things, though tried to keep it all one at a time, so not to overwhelm her head. The feeling of loneliness as she stayed in the temple remains present, only relieved when someone may take the time to see her, speak to her. It was as often as they could make it, and it was better with Roan being back, but everyone was busy with their own things, and she could only entertain herself so long with painting before that got old. Most weren't exactly the happiest when they approached her regardless, more so a silent grief, and a worry as they watch her. She didn't want to cause any more worry, though, so she remains. There was a sense of dread she couldn't explain ever since she'd visited her old hut, and collapsed upon the beach. Why did she still feel pain for things she couldn't even recall? How was she supposed to fix that? She couldn't. The only thing she could do, to make things better, was rest. Her head would never fully recover, and the Goldenluxury they'd known would never return, never the same, and the only thing she could do about it was not make anything worse. So she wouldn't. At least, she'd try her best not to.

    Riftweaver would find his mother in the temple, gaze distant as she stares at the stone walls filled with herbs. Her eyes stared at none in particular, seemingly lost in their own existence. It wasn't until the boy spoke up that the female would acknowledge she knew he was there at all. Her eyes would shift, looking towards him now, feathered ears perked forward. He wished to speak, similarly to his brother recently. She was fine with that. She wanted to talk, too. It was one of the few things that helped her during these times. She wanted to be with her sons, wanted to take away their pain and know them as she had before. She listens quietly as he explains himself, stating he wasn't doing well. She shares the sentiment.

    Her head rises, full attention on the other. Among everything else, one thing she could feel grateful for was that he felt comfortable enough to speak to. She was here, no matter what. She was here. "You n' me both," she'd offer as a small joke before turning more serious, tapping the ground in front of her. ]"What's troublin' you, mo mhac?"

    *mobile post at work, excuse any weirdness
    NOTHING'S EVER LOST  FOREVER,  IT'S  JUST  HIDING IN THE RECESS OF YOUR MIND AND WHEN YOU NEED IT,  IT WILL  COME  TO  YOU  AT  NIGHT.  I MISS THE YELLOW. I MISS THE  YELLING  AND  THE  SHAKEDOWN. I'M NOT COMPLAINING, NO,  I GOT A BETTER SET OF KNIVES NOW.  I MISS MY DRUMMER,  MY DEAD STEPBROTHER,  AND THE PIT CROWD.  AND CHUCK AND MATTY  -  IF  THEY  COULD  SEE    ME    THEY'D  BE  SO  PROUD.
    riftweaver
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      Silas Draek
    #3
    01-27-2021, 05:58 PM
    [align=center]

    RIFTWEAVER
    [div style="background-color:#242924;width:90%;max-height:200px;overflow: auto;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: white;"] "speech"

    There was a certain comfort in the similarities their situations held. As awful as it was, he felt better knowing that he was not alone in his struggle with identity and self. Perhaps that was an awful thing to think, or maybe it came from a place of fear and uncertainty, fed by a need to find comfort in his mother. No matter what the reason, Rift swallowed his guilt over his thoughts and cleared his throat. "I..I shouldn't exist. Whatever happened that day... I was always meant to be a part of Brandyskies." he murmured. His ears flattened as his thoughts spun some more. "Everyone expects us to act the same, to be the same. But I'm not the same. I'm all the weakest parts of him - the parts that caused him to slip and make stupid decisions, the emotional part, the part that doesn't think before acting, that isn't as strong. I'm his flaws."
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