Post by opossum on Feb 14, 2014 5:15:23 GMT -8
" Lying awake. Lying tired. Lying. Lying down. Lying up, waking up. Drinking. DRINKING. AUGH GOD I MISS YOU ALCOHOL SO MUCH." Pyral's words echoing out around the quiet house, rolling around in his upstairs room, while grumbling out in a rather feral tone. Before flipping up to a sitting position and drinking down a few gulps of whiskey," Ahh....at least I can still get the taste." closing the bottle, setting it aside.
" So many dreams.......I wonder what they all mean...." Pulling his knee's upto his chest, burrying his head into the cloth of his no-life-pants. Grumbling to himself.
The memory was solid. A dream of ice. There was snow, a flurry, a Storm. All around. Sitting in the snow, Pyral looks worried, wondering. Standing. Wandering. Arms crossed, in an attempt for warmth. He grows, and shifts. In his more large animalistic state, more warm. From the distance, a darkened purple shape breaks across the snowy vision. Everything clouded in the constant downpour of crystalline white shards. Closer, and closer. It's massive weight shaking the ground, the snow rumbling beneath it's feet. It arrives. A giant, pierced with spears, arrows, decked in tattered, plated leather armor, a helmet, with nordic designs. The beast was massive. It's skin, blue-paled like a freshly frozen man. A beard hung from beneath a helmet, and two dark holes drilled into the helmet stood for eyes. An axe it carried with it, a decisive heavy weapon. One to be avoided. Should you be struck...there's not telling how much pressure's behind it. Standing now, a few dozen feet away, it lowers it's head slowly and parts it's skeletal jaws. Winter rushes from it's mouth, the storm worsens. The blizzard focuses as if to shred the fur from Pyral's flesh.
Not withstanding for this, the Apasum takes charge. This was a threat. Then words begin to grow in focused tempos, in a deeper, more wisdom filled voice. " Winter. Survive. You must survive. The land withers. The people shrivel. Thoughts, dreams, die while the woes and groans of the people soar. A terrifying choir to the Dying and the damned. You will not last. You can not last. Just go. To. Sleep." The words only seem to drive Pyral forward harder and harder. His entire being engulfed in a white hot burning glow, like one giant yellowey white silhouetted object against the snow. The bright yellow contrasted by the bright white appearance of the skeleton beneath all his muscle, knife gripped in hand. Again, and again, he climbs across this monster. As it reaches and grabs for him, landing it's grip and tossing him, only to have Pyral latch onto it again and again. Never giving up. Relentlessly attacking, powering through the sleet and the cold, the frost the build shatters under the might of the beast that ferociously attacks the monstrously giant ice-like warrior. The dream ends with a thought. " When theres nothing else left to beleive in, then ill make people beleive. If no one will beleive in fae, I'll beleive in fae. If no one beleives I can do it, I beleive I can do it.The sun will come up, and this winter shit Will END."
The dream had ended abruptly, but had caused the Apasum to suffer a burning ember of rage for the morning, nearly frenzying from a dream of that aptitude. The next dream after he drifted off again was much nicer. A happy, happy time, with a nice little family. Not your every day family. A nice possum family. Unorthodox for the species, but when you have to keep Your mate and the ladies in a cage to keep them from being hurt or lost or just from wandering off, things tend to change. Lots of time spent using willow-whisper to communicate back and forth between the kids and their mother. Loads and loads of fun happy times. Possum times. Only to wake with the morning light breaking the crack between the blinds to Pyral's face.
" The good dreams never last long enough damnit..." he sighs, rubbing his face before reaching for the whiskey again...
" So many dreams.......I wonder what they all mean...." Pulling his knee's upto his chest, burrying his head into the cloth of his no-life-pants. Grumbling to himself.
The memory was solid. A dream of ice. There was snow, a flurry, a Storm. All around. Sitting in the snow, Pyral looks worried, wondering. Standing. Wandering. Arms crossed, in an attempt for warmth. He grows, and shifts. In his more large animalistic state, more warm. From the distance, a darkened purple shape breaks across the snowy vision. Everything clouded in the constant downpour of crystalline white shards. Closer, and closer. It's massive weight shaking the ground, the snow rumbling beneath it's feet. It arrives. A giant, pierced with spears, arrows, decked in tattered, plated leather armor, a helmet, with nordic designs. The beast was massive. It's skin, blue-paled like a freshly frozen man. A beard hung from beneath a helmet, and two dark holes drilled into the helmet stood for eyes. An axe it carried with it, a decisive heavy weapon. One to be avoided. Should you be struck...there's not telling how much pressure's behind it. Standing now, a few dozen feet away, it lowers it's head slowly and parts it's skeletal jaws. Winter rushes from it's mouth, the storm worsens. The blizzard focuses as if to shred the fur from Pyral's flesh.
Not withstanding for this, the Apasum takes charge. This was a threat. Then words begin to grow in focused tempos, in a deeper, more wisdom filled voice. " Winter. Survive. You must survive. The land withers. The people shrivel. Thoughts, dreams, die while the woes and groans of the people soar. A terrifying choir to the Dying and the damned. You will not last. You can not last. Just go. To. Sleep." The words only seem to drive Pyral forward harder and harder. His entire being engulfed in a white hot burning glow, like one giant yellowey white silhouetted object against the snow. The bright yellow contrasted by the bright white appearance of the skeleton beneath all his muscle, knife gripped in hand. Again, and again, he climbs across this monster. As it reaches and grabs for him, landing it's grip and tossing him, only to have Pyral latch onto it again and again. Never giving up. Relentlessly attacking, powering through the sleet and the cold, the frost the build shatters under the might of the beast that ferociously attacks the monstrously giant ice-like warrior. The dream ends with a thought. " When theres nothing else left to beleive in, then ill make people beleive. If no one will beleive in fae, I'll beleive in fae. If no one beleives I can do it, I beleive I can do it.The sun will come up, and this winter shit Will END."
The dream had ended abruptly, but had caused the Apasum to suffer a burning ember of rage for the morning, nearly frenzying from a dream of that aptitude. The next dream after he drifted off again was much nicer. A happy, happy time, with a nice little family. Not your every day family. A nice possum family. Unorthodox for the species, but when you have to keep Your mate and the ladies in a cage to keep them from being hurt or lost or just from wandering off, things tend to change. Lots of time spent using willow-whisper to communicate back and forth between the kids and their mother. Loads and loads of fun happy times. Possum times. Only to wake with the morning light breaking the crack between the blinds to Pyral's face.
" The good dreams never last long enough damnit..." he sighs, rubbing his face before reaching for the whiskey again...