Author Topic: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)  (Read 336 times)

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Offline Absinthe

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cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« on: June 04, 2017, 01:17:39 AM »
Her eyes are shut, not because she chooses to keep them closed, but they are caked with blood and she relies entirely on sound and scent now. How many branches has she run into, not listening to Gaius? She told him she could find her way home, she told him she didn't need his help, she could follow her heart and she would return back to Gemini in no time.

But the only thing she found were low hanging branches, bushes, and at one point, a very deep hole occupied by a very angry badger. Aha, she deserved that bite, like all the others before. She deserved to feel all that ooey gooey blood running down her leg and squishing between her toes as she walked. It smarted now, but would heal quickly enough.

Absinthe continued on, expecting Gaius to follow until he was too tired to deal with her bullcrap anymore and direct her homeward, but for now, maybe he was getting his kicks watching her fumble, or maybe she really WAS going in the right direction.

Hint: She is.

For once in her life, she is going in the right direction, she is following her instincts, she is following her heart-

right into a tree with a tender whine. Okay, so.. sidestep and move forward, you can do it, she exhales through her nose and begins again-

right into an obstacle, covered in fur and warm and-

she drops what is in her jaws, and the pelts resting so neatly on her back slide off. Absinthe realizes what true panic really is. She reaches out, grabbing what fell and pulls it close to her body. No, she would not let him carry her heaviest burden, but.. "S-sorry, Gaius!" she peeps out, reeling back and laughing nervously. How did he manage to get ahead of her so quietly? She wants to yell at him, snarl, accuse him of tricking her, but she can't. She is so tired, she swears she can hear buzzing.

"I get it, I'm going.. the wrong way.. this.. following your heart stuff.. is.. is for the birds, I guess.." and she was never destined to fly, the poor girl.

"Can.. can you help me, though?" her heart sinks at the request, she slumps forward. She is defeated, he wins. "Can you.. carry the pelts for awhile? They're really.. heavy."

Offline figᴝre cloɐked in ᴃlɐcҟ

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #1 on: June 04, 2017, 01:22:04 AM »
buzz 

buzz .  . .

buzz . . . . .

eat and eat and stretch your wings…

The thoughts come slowly, struggling through a fog of grief, of swaddling fear, of loneliness. The thoughts are as lost as the body, drifting along, hoping to find something, someone, anyone that can… assist.

How long have they been separated? How long ago did they stumble apart? Driven away by oddities yet experienced?

this is bad… something isn’t right

That might be the fifth or sixth time the thought has crossed this mind since the initial separation, but… there is still company, the buzzing kind, the kind that tickles ears and pelts and smells sticky and sweet. This is what they have to hold onto, least they lose what little sanity remains.

i need her, i depend on her,

They are a child again, shivering and trying to protect their other half, their soul—separated and torn asunder, sent in two different directions…

They shake their head to clear away the smoke and crackling flames of paranoia and instead focus, heavily, upon the faces of many beautiful daughters and brave courageous sons.

i need her, i’ll find her, but first my—

A paw lifts, heavy and sore from travel, but gentle and cautious and trembling. They intend to gently correct and drive their precious prize—

Then sudden discomfort, the sensation of a body against their own—no no NO no nO one is allowed to touch but her—and they stumble, pressed against the ground in a clumsy undignified heap. A voice apologizes at their back but the body is… shaking. Pain ripples along the flesh, emotional and familiar, and slowly the body rises up only to see…

she’s gone, she’s gone, just like the real one, my precious, oh sweet one, oh soft one, no no no—

Some of the buzzing… stops.

Muscles ripple with aggression, with madness and childish possession—this being has broken something, ruined it, ruined it like how they are ruined but when the beast whips around with sick gaze they are… stunned.

You… The voice croaks, dark and whispy, liquid tar from lack of use, You…

The chest heaves but not due to the familiarity of the face. The chest heaves because… because…

wHAt is THAT beTWEEN those LEGS?

The eyes grow wide in disbelief, the muzzle flops open—this woman has her own closed, she cannot see the figure, see it’s horror and terror, see familiarity make storms across furious fires—but the soft wheezing that escapes their chest is… perhaps, some sign that they are…

What are they, exactly?

The whirlwind of emotions are swallowed, set to roll down a tight throat as gaze burns and nostrils flare with huffs and puffs—in and out, remember to breath, in and out.

Gaius…

Gaius?

Gaius speaks—Yes….

Gaius leans down to take some of the pelts, to adjust them over their form with weak knees and wheezing breathes. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. They stink, they smell like sickness… they smell like them.

It’s only once they are adjusted upon their person that Gaius, Gaius, Gaius turns to get a good look at the face that makes their chest feel tight and their eyes leak. Because, because—

Of the thing between their legs.

I’ll help.

This is how it felt, this is how it felt to be hoisted by one’s own petard.



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Offline Absinthe

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #2 on: June 04, 2017, 01:25:58 AM »
Gaius, you have changed- you are not quite so big as I thought you were, are you?

She sniffs the air, but the only scent she knows now is iron and sorrow. It makes sense, really, when you try to drown in your own blood. It would've been better that way, you know, if you had just let me go. 'You...' she hears, but it is not Gaius' voice.

At least, not that she remembers. 'You...' it repeats, and she begins to suspect that.. perhaps.. she is exhausted and so is he. Did he sleep at all the night before, did he rest at all? Surely not, because she had, and he wouldn't leave her vulnerable, would he?

'Yes....' he agrees, much to her shock, and she hears rustling ahead of her. 'I'll help,' and she stiffles a whine. "Thank you, ah.. ah do you need help.. putting them on? I can't.. I can't really.. see you, but.." you know that, don't you?

Maybe it was for the best that she couldn't. Absinthe wasn't much of a believer in the Afterlife, and she certainly wouldn't be too keen to see all her skeletons tumbling out of the closet.

Offline figᴝre cloɐked in ᴃlɐcҟ

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #3 on: June 04, 2017, 01:29:46 AM »
Gaius can’t stop the rattle rattle of their heart. In a way, it’s somewhat soothing, the idle caress of terror and discomfort, the embrace of confusion and desperation, and the pang of… of---

if she were here, she would know what to do, what to do with the ghosts, are they back? Are they—

I’ve got it, They reply with a rattling voice, I’ve got it.

They aren’t weak, not physically, but they are helpless, mentally. Solitude and a lack of purpose would do that. This is the first wolf they’ve seen in days, the first wolf they could feel. The first wolf that didn’t haunt them with failures and leave them behind.

Suddenly, despite the naked hollow gaze and the open jaw staring up from between this female’s legs… they feel—Gaius feels—happy? Some warped sense of relief? Relief from the burden of their own churning thoughts and the madness that lurked in every corner driving them to fury and obsessive collecting—

I just need too…. She might hear it, the shuffling, the soft cooing sounds---sounds they hadn’t been able to make before, when wriggling bodies in the cradle had desperately needed them, come on, my children, my gifts.

Never mind their mutters, they are sane in some way, you know.

Ms. H. Mr. Z. Ms. S, Ms—

They cough but the shuffling stops and the buzz buzz buzz is muted. They are… ready. But.

Your face….

One breath, then another, before they come a bit closer and lean forward—Let me help.

Because, they want to do something right.

Still, their vision wavers—blocked by thick wetness, by screams and memories that remind them whenever this mouth is open, agony sprays forth like a banshees bellow. Yet, hot breath and thick tongue is still used and drawn across crusty eyes, even as their throat swallows copper and memories.

oh oh oh…. oh goodness

Their belly aches, hungry, starving for flesh, for red.

This time. THIS TIME. They ignore it.
« Last Edit: June 04, 2017, 02:19:14 AM by fig?re clo?ked in ?l?c? »



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Offline Absinthe

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #4 on: June 04, 2017, 01:40:45 AM »
'I've got it', he rumbles and she nods, backing away and tugging along her gem. 'I've got it', he repeats and she scoffs. "I heard you the first time," a grumble emerges and she tries one more time to sniff him from where she is.

Blood, still. It stinks, it smells so bad, but she shrugs it off. Maybe it's just them now? Maybe they've smelled like this the whole time and she's only just learning to use her senses. She should've done that before, maybe she wouldn't have lost so much.

'I just need too....' she hears and tries to open her eyes, but ah.. whatever is caked on is pulling at her skin, and she does not want to feel pain right now. Not anymore than she already is, at least. 'come on, my children, my gifts.' and instinctively she growls, leaning over her Precious. Would she have to fight him? Would he really take from her?

'Ms. H. Ms. Z. Ms. S, Ms—'

"What are you talking about.." Absinthe murmurs, she realizes something is off. She realizes there is something very, very wrong here. 'Your face....' he breathes, and she can hear him approach. 'Let me help.' and she winces, because someone's idea of 'help' might very well be different from anothers.

But they- whoever they are, not Gaius, she realizes, but kind enough to help- begin to scrub away the dirt and mess and shame that coated her eyes, and when she finally opens them, well..

"..Ah, I see now," her hum is low, she looks down at her paws and smiles.

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #5 on: June 04, 2017, 01:53:09 AM »
Gaius doesn’t answer, not yet anyway. This thing, these treasures, they belong to them and she has already caused… trauma among the collective. They will leave her to her muttering instead as they gather their tools and emotional fortitude. Naturally, after that is said and done, and blood is licked carefully from her face they lean back—

You see now…?

You see…. Me?

Not Gaius feels a flutter of unease, the reaction they are given is unexpected. Smiles don’t manifest in their presence and even she doesn’t twitch much muscle these days.

They roll their muscles under the pelt, their… cloak of black.

I’m tired. They croak, I want to be Gaius now.

Shame bubbles up in their chest, shame at being unable to withstand the loathing they knew lurked in the shadows of their empire. Shame at the paranoia that sapped at their mentality. Shame that, despite the many new layers that strangled them, they were still… a monster.

I want to be Gaius now. they repeat—he, Gaius repeats.

  “I will help.

Wheeze.

He’s a broken record.

I want to be Gaius now.

….. tears.

Absinthe….?

……

I’ll carry this.





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Offline Absinthe

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #6 on: June 04, 2017, 02:05:02 AM »
'You see now...?'

"Yes," she looks up with damaged sight, but- "Of course I see you," and she never realized it was a two way street until now.

'I'm tired. I want to be Gaius now.'

Absinthe opens her mouth, but what can she say? She had named him, hadn't she? This exhausted spirit. Why did she have to manifest him, of all things? 'I want to be Gaius now.' he says again, and she shakes her head. "You can't be Gaius," but he protests.

'I will help.' A wheeze follows. 'I want to be Gaius now.' he continues and so does she. "You can't be Gaius, I'm sorry," because Gaius is one of a kind, he is irreplaceable, even in name.

"You don't have to be.. you don't have to be.. him, though," she understands what he means, she wants to cry, she feels what he feels and steps forward, over her tarnished pride and closer to her heart. 'Absinthe....?' he remembers, but she shakes her head.

"No.. no, I don't want to be Absinthe anymore. Please," her voice cracks and she feels all her pain welling in her eyes. "Please don't- please.. anyone but her."

'I'll carry this.' he says, and she can no longer hold back. "You can be anyone you want-" she sobs "We can be anyone we want."

Offline figᴝre cloɐked in ᴃlɐcҟ

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #7 on: June 04, 2017, 02:17:51 AM »
His tongue is thick in his mouth. His words are gravel and ash. She won’t let him become something else—this Gaius, whose name sound much lovelier. For a moment, he’s frustrated, angry. He wants to snap and screech, he wants to revert to the thing he is, to the thing he will always be, all the while wearing the pelt that oozes sickness against him and makes his body hum with aggression—

What is this, what is this? WHO is this on his back and why does it feel like liquid heat and stolen spirits?

He turns his head for a moment, to calm the madness, to ease the pressure pounding against his skull and trying to ooze from his eyes.

He could have been petulant, violent, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants to be more. He doesn’t want to be….

The thing on the ground with the sunken eyes and damning stare. The thing on the ground with the open mouth ready to spill secrets and accuse accuse accuse accuse

His chest bellows out a manic laugh, one filled with cutting sorrow—did he cause this? Is she dead too or—

Words, Absinthe’s words. He focuses, his muzzle shuts, the laughter eases. He hasn’t felt such… hysteria since the one he thought was most precious died.

Then another ran.

Oh sweet goodness that hurt.

I don’t know how  to be….. Anything else. But maybe, he could have learned to be Gaius….?

No, he can’t let his mind spiral out of control again.

She’s forward.

Now he’s forward.

With all the burdens of missed opportunities. This child with no father.

This child with no… no… moth—

He sits, greedy of his new identity, hoarding the cloak on his person but he opens his… arms. He’ll accept her. They can… touch, and feel. He can’t let her cry alone.

We can be anyone we want. Somewhere else, right?

Why did… you… If he’s able to hold her, he will do so. It’s odd. They are both… perhaps compromised by situation and circumstance. Once upon a time such closeness, such disregard for instinct would have been unheard of. Or maybe, maybe he’s aware that she’s dangerous, that he’s dangerous, and he doesn’t fear. The relief of finding someone is just too overwhelming. even if he still has to be the monster, for a time.

Why is it, He refused to give it a name, a gender, an identity. He couldn’t afford to be haunted by more phantoms, why is that here.

The thing on the ground. The thing she coveted.



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Offline Absinthe

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #8 on: June 04, 2017, 02:30:41 AM »
She watches him for a time, she sees his head turn and staggers backwards. Oh. Oh no, no no.. not again, not this. Not again, not again- but he doesn't rush forward, he doesn't rip and shred and tear and take. No, he never had, had he?

"I.. I.." her words stammer, black ears lay back against a creamy skull and she feels sick. Maybe it's all the tainted meat she ate by accident. She was paying for it now, wasn't she? Haha, she deserved this. She deserved all of this, what a funny hallucination.

'I don't know how to be.....' he begins and she wipes away tears with a blood-stained paw, cringing as the fresh bite wound aches from agitation.

But he sees what she has now, he sees what she has been carrying, and it is very real. 'Why did... you...' he asks, because why wouldn't you ask? Someone carries around their pain and regret and you can see it, you always ask, don't you? You always ask what happened, and that's what he's doing, isn't he?

Is he afraid? She hums and drags it back to her. "I'm.. I'm not going to hurt you," she whispers, because he needs to be reassured, doesn't he? "I won't hurt you-" she feels the tears coming back, her chest tightening, she feels a hard grip on her throat. "D-don't leave, okay? I won't hurt you-"

Please don't leave me.

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #9 on: June 04, 2017, 02:54:25 AM »
No.

Please don’t.

Seeing her stagger back makes his chest tighten and his breath leave him in a rush. Is she afraid? Afraid like those who sought his destruction?—he knew they existed, he could hear it in the wind, snarls of discontent and weights being lifted by young ambitious muscle.

He parts his muzzle to croak, but her words meet his ears first. He doesn’t dare step closer, not yet, not until he’s sure that she won’t run too. He can’t… have anything else run from him.

But she doesn’t, and the cold wash of respite is nearly crippling in its intensity. His heart doesn’t settle, but the urge to run and chase and scream doesn’t curl through his belly anymore. Instead, he’s focused back on the thing between them. On their… round shaped problem—

Or, rather, it’s not much of a problem now. It should have been but… but so much has been robbed of him that even bitterness is a flavorless emotion.

She drags it back toward her and his gaze remains glued upon that thing which is now back between her legs. A chill ravages his spine but his mouth is glued shut while she talks. It’s only when she begs him not to leave that Not Gaius snaps his head up and—

I WON’T, I WON’T, I WON’T—

He’s… he’s screaming. He can’t stop.

He’s barking mad. He can’t stop.

I WON’T, I’LL PROTECT YOU, I’LL STAY, SO—

He’s back in time, watching them leave, watching as aspirations of pain replace them.

where are they?

where is she?

He’s being so loud, he knows he is, and his voice is wicked and passionate but he wants her to know!!!

I’M AFRAID. I’M ALWAYS AFRAID. AFRAID AND HUNGRY. TIRED AND ANGRY. THEY’LL TEAR ME APART. BUT I WON’T LEAVE. I NEED TO LOVE. I’M LEARNING TO LOVE SO, SO, SO, SO—

He doesn’t know what else to say, he’s stuck, hiccups.

I’M AFRAID TO DIE, I DON’T WANT TO BE HURT, BUT I WON’T LEAVE. LET’S GO. I’LL HELP.

Even if he can’t be Gaius….just yet.

But he refuses to be that THING BETWEEN HER LEGS.



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Offline Absinthe

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #10 on: June 04, 2017, 08:51:25 PM »
He throws his head pack, he howls. 'I WON'T, I WON'T, I WONT-' and she steps forward to stop him, whispering 'shh's and looking around. Oh, how close are they to Gemini, how close are they, that she can allow this noise?

'I WON’T, I’LL PROTECT YOU, I’LL STAY, SO—' please!! Please, be quiet!!

Absinthe reaches out now, she reaches out to touch his face- her face- but he continues. He is a staggering mess, he wails through his tantrum and she half expects him to lash out. He is wounded, isn't he? There is no evidence on the outside, but he's so damaged. He's so broken, just like her, and she knows what it's like to be backed into a corner.

"Please, please.. be quiet, I'm s-sor-"

'I’M AFRAID. I’M ALWAYS AFRAID. AFRAID AND HUNGRY. TIRED AND ANGRY. THEY’LL TEAR ME APART. BUT I WON’T LEAVE. I NEED TO LOVE. I’M LEARNING TO LOVE SO, SO, SO, SO—'

PLEASE!

She sees herself lunging forward, but her body stays in place. There is an apparation, it tackles him, because how could she touch a ghost? It pins him down, it closes his mouth and clamps it shut. She watches in horror as it rips and shreds, but only in the name of Silence. She hears it screaming over and over and over again, but he hiccups and she is brought back to reality.

Reality. He is there, he is truly, remarkably there, and he won't stop. He keeps yelling. He's afraid to die, and so is she, but after all the things she's done, she believes it is the only way to soothe her suffering. Maybe it is the only way for him, too..

"You can.. you can help, you can help, but you.. you have to be quiet.. you.. please stop yelling, it hurts, they'll hear you, they'll hear you and they'll.. take you.. from me.." whoever they is. She assumes they are so close, she assumes anyone- especially Gaius- will hear them and follow the sound and oH WHAT A FUNNY SIGHT THEY ARE, TOGETHER.

FINALLY TOGETHER.

"We can go, we can go.. I'll love you, I promise. I promise, I promise." she is pleading now, her body is low to the ground as she grovels closer to him. "I think I know how, I think I can do it, I'll try. I promise-" she sobs and rests her head in front of him, hopefully on his paws, unless he changes his mind.

Please love me, too.

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #11 on: June 05, 2017, 02:48:19 PM »
There’s a touch on his face—a touch, a touch, a touch!! But he can’t stop. His chest is being torn asunder, brought to pound with phantom pangs and emotional weight. He can barely breath as his screams but he somehow finds the wheezing breath to continue, even with lungs once damaged and tongue that had wrapped secrets around throats just ripe and ready for strangulation.

He was so wicked, so very wicked, even now, even broken.

Who was he to beg for forgiveness to the skies?

Who was he to beg for forgiveness to those who had no need to?

He wanted to settle himself, to swallow back the bile and the absolute filth that spewed past his own lips—

Gaius lips, because he still hoped and believed he could be anyone but who he currently was.

But, but, but—

She talks ‘quiet, please, quiet’ but the words are far away, incomprehensible.

What is… quiet? How does one… become… quiet?

Through death. Through separation of head from body and lungs.

No, no, no, no, nO…. not that thing, not yet, not when he still needs time to become something else, something that isn’t rotten. He needs honey and pumice to sticky his pieces back together and the hard sun to bake him into something whole again.

He needs her, he needs them, where was she---WHERE WAS SHE?!

Then, the words he needs to hear—‘you can help’.

He knows what that means. He wants to… to help.

He hiccups again, the sound reminds him of—

He collapses upon her, upon her head that’s resting infront of him. He curls tight around her, digits spread and set to sink into her battled and bruised flesh. She’s his now. Mine, mine, mine, mine—

He wheezes and pants, he needs to catch his breath and his sanity.

He forgets about the thing, for now. He’s much too busy trying to absorb this other wolf.

Mine, mine, mine.

He’ll protect her, and then SHE WON’T LEAVE.   



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Offline Absinthe

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Re: cluster of witches in sanities clothing (prp)
« Reply #12 on: June 05, 2017, 08:05:27 PM »
She breaks out into quiet sobs, the new scars across her face and beneath her eyes burn from the salt but she welcomes the feeling. It reminds her that she's alive, that this is real, and he is really here.

His weight on her body reminds her.. he is here, his claws around her, she feels him and finds comfort. Her eyes are closed now, she swallows back her sobs and calms her breathing. His scent- the smell of the flayed corpse surrounding him- it is like lavender, his wheezes and breathing are a lullaby.

She is not long for the waking world, she lays back dark ears against a cream skull and nestles her hooded head against his body. "Can.. can I rest here, a little while?" would he still be there when she wakes, she wonders? Would this all have been a dream? Maybe it's for the best if he leaves now, maybe it's for the best she made it all up.

Absinthe couldn't stand the heartbreak it would bring to lose someone else.

She opens her eyes, but only for a moment- she reaches out with a bloodied paw and knocks away the haunting gaze of her Demon, and then falls quickly and soundly into a deep sleep.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2017, 08:05:54 PM by Absinthe »