Post by opossum on Apr 7, 2014 22:21:34 GMT -8
" Is it really?" Pyral said outloud to no one, sitting by himself within the room he'd been given by Leslie. Alone again, after such a deep situation, so much trial, so little room for error....so...UN-accomplished. " I remember standing there."
He drinks down a half bottle remaining of Honeyed-whiskey, only to roll the bottle down across the floor," I stood there, and I fucking had her. In. My. SIGHTS." he shouts suddenly," But I couldn't....too many people standing in front of her, too many people working to help. Why the sudden change? We were hellbent on her absolute demolition, and my hand was stayed by friends...by friend....ALL of them. It took every ounce of willpower I had..." he grunts," to not leap at her during her weakened state..." he grumbles to himself, curling up more-so in his corner-bed-Nest. " Of all the things, to let live....Taken so much from all of us. We might not have seen it, but there's without a doubt that people died. People we didn't know, changelings we didn't know. The world was cold, and sad, and they couldn't pull through. Winter took them forcibly, and ripped their chance clean from their hands."
Sighing again he looks to the myriads of messages written on the walls," Let fools die a fools death..." he shrugs," There's too small a number of us to LET them die a fools death, humans sure...but...fae...we have chances...This is why I am thankful for rule thirteen...there's always judgement to guide our hands." another bottle, also half-drunk, he downs it. Looking to the bottle for sympathy," Don't they realize that? Everything's cold whether it's summer or winter, spring or fall, and truly, We have to learn to survive it. It's my truth...." he sets the bottle down, empty of it's delicious rum contents," A fae brought down, can live again, given time, but those killed by winter...do they come back? Truly? I wont ever know. " Rolling over, he shifts up to crinos, goes and locks his bedroom door, then flops back into his bed-nest heavily," I plan to live forever..." before huffing to himself, curling up, and heading off to the realm of dreams once more. With naught but thoughts to be the lullaby to his sleep.
This world sucks. We should make it better already.
He drinks down a half bottle remaining of Honeyed-whiskey, only to roll the bottle down across the floor," I stood there, and I fucking had her. In. My. SIGHTS." he shouts suddenly," But I couldn't....too many people standing in front of her, too many people working to help. Why the sudden change? We were hellbent on her absolute demolition, and my hand was stayed by friends...by friend....ALL of them. It took every ounce of willpower I had..." he grunts," to not leap at her during her weakened state..." he grumbles to himself, curling up more-so in his corner-bed-Nest. " Of all the things, to let live....Taken so much from all of us. We might not have seen it, but there's without a doubt that people died. People we didn't know, changelings we didn't know. The world was cold, and sad, and they couldn't pull through. Winter took them forcibly, and ripped their chance clean from their hands."
Sighing again he looks to the myriads of messages written on the walls," Let fools die a fools death..." he shrugs," There's too small a number of us to LET them die a fools death, humans sure...but...fae...we have chances...This is why I am thankful for rule thirteen...there's always judgement to guide our hands." another bottle, also half-drunk, he downs it. Looking to the bottle for sympathy," Don't they realize that? Everything's cold whether it's summer or winter, spring or fall, and truly, We have to learn to survive it. It's my truth...." he sets the bottle down, empty of it's delicious rum contents," A fae brought down, can live again, given time, but those killed by winter...do they come back? Truly? I wont ever know. " Rolling over, he shifts up to crinos, goes and locks his bedroom door, then flops back into his bed-nest heavily," I plan to live forever..." before huffing to himself, curling up, and heading off to the realm of dreams once more. With naught but thoughts to be the lullaby to his sleep.
This world sucks. We should make it better already.