Post by Abby/Blood Offerings on May 27, 2014 11:35:52 GMT -8
The emotions raged inside her, to the point that she couldn't always tell where one ended and another began. The storm had gone on for days, since the crisis with Moira had ended, and it was driving her insane.
The anger, when it reared up to the fore, was something she could handle. She'd been handling anger the same way for years. She took herself to the work shop and beat metal into pleasing shapes. He called that a warning? "I'm going to change, give me a chance." Like that little bit could prepare her for this? Obviously he'd known the entire time, which at least made some conversations make sense, but by the Dream she was pissed. Pissed enough that the work she was doing was likely going to turn out worthless for actual fighting, but one always needed show pieces.
It was the fear that drove her out of the workshop. The fear that sent her running from what was inside, the foe she couldn't vanquish. Her own worry drove her out hunting, almost recklessly tracking down the ones that preyed on the young and innocent. Might as well do something useful with her trauma. She fed well off the products of her own fear, but always ended her hunts in the same place.
Hope, that cruel mistress, had her perching on the highest point she could find, watching the House. The fear held her in place, but the hope kept her coming back. To watch him, and watch over him, in the small hours of the morning. It wasn't that she thought he needed the protection, it was that she couldn't help it. He was still hers, on some level, and she needed to protect him.
This morning, just as the sun crested the horizon, hope finally won out over fear. After a few days of fighting with herself, she slipped off her perch and walked up to the door. She took a deep, single breath, then knocked.
The anger, when it reared up to the fore, was something she could handle. She'd been handling anger the same way for years. She took herself to the work shop and beat metal into pleasing shapes. He called that a warning? "I'm going to change, give me a chance." Like that little bit could prepare her for this? Obviously he'd known the entire time, which at least made some conversations make sense, but by the Dream she was pissed. Pissed enough that the work she was doing was likely going to turn out worthless for actual fighting, but one always needed show pieces.
It was the fear that drove her out of the workshop. The fear that sent her running from what was inside, the foe she couldn't vanquish. Her own worry drove her out hunting, almost recklessly tracking down the ones that preyed on the young and innocent. Might as well do something useful with her trauma. She fed well off the products of her own fear, but always ended her hunts in the same place.
Hope, that cruel mistress, had her perching on the highest point she could find, watching the House. The fear held her in place, but the hope kept her coming back. To watch him, and watch over him, in the small hours of the morning. It wasn't that she thought he needed the protection, it was that she couldn't help it. He was still hers, on some level, and she needed to protect him.
This morning, just as the sun crested the horizon, hope finally won out over fear. After a few days of fighting with herself, she slipped off her perch and walked up to the door. She took a deep, single breath, then knocked.