CoR: Distraction.The Aegislash would be walking through the streets of Ormona, his familiar safely tucked against his back. His scarf would be pulled up over most of his face, and his one uncovered eye watching the crowd around them cautiously. He'd stolen here before..and the last thing he'd want is to be recognized in some way, not before he could make it to the prison. Though the thief had a longing desire to go rushing into the massive building himself..he knew he wasn't capable of doing much once inside. Even if he were able to make it to the innermost depths and to Kamal's prison, he had no powerful moves..and couldn't break the bars that imprisoned him. A small plan had made way to him however, even if the very idea of it had earned high complaints from his familiar. All around them he could spot the faces in the crowds, watching, hiding..looking for some kind of opportunity. He'd stop in place within sight of the guardsmen, steeling himself for what he was about to do. Even if he couldn't fight
The wonder of flightAs the morning sun began to rise over the grand plains, Darin would slowly come to consciousness. Still snugged warmly against the Talonflame, he'd let out a yawn and open his eyes blearily. Slowly blinking away the sleep he'd look upwards, taking a moment to recognize the large bird. It's eyes were closed, the large pokemon breathing softly in it's sleep; placed next to Darin would be his familiar, the sword's eye still shut. Getting up slowly and carefully so as not to wake the two of them, he'd walk a small distance away and stretch, watching the sun as it continued to make it's way through the sky. That had to have been the best he'd slept in a good while..a full stomach, and something warm and soft to sleep against. He'd purse his lips, thinking hard for what to do next..if they were going to have any chance of winning, he'd need to figure out how to ride it somehow. The thief had his doubts that careening through the sky in it's talons would count towards a mount competition.Beg
Learning bit by bitAct would be angrily pacing -or rather floating- in a circle around Darin as he lay in the grass, slowly calming from the flight. Honestly when the bird had come at him in the way it did, he'd thought it was an invitation. His plan was to grab onto it's legs and see if he could climb onto it's back from there as it flew. Little did he expect the large bird to snatch him up like a piece of prey and take off with him-though at least it seemed like it wasn't wholly interested in eating him. It'd just dropped him in the grass, and landed nearby, neatly preening it's feathers as if nothing were out of the norm for it. As startling and scary as the moment had been, he did have to admit a touch of thrill to the little trip..he'd never been that high, or gone that fast before. Sighing, he'd sit up and rub his head, glancing over to the bird. It had chosen to stand in place, sharp eyes watching Act as it circled around him.He'd turn his eye to the agitated familiar, deciding to break whatever
Silence in the midst of screamsTime was running out. He could feel it, screaming, clawing..edging at every fiber of his being. The demon's mentality, his one remaining shard of who he had been lay within his cracked mind. Watching with a dread as everything lined, as his existence would slowly be diminished. If not the next soul devoured, it would be the starvation, that ended him. Any more pressure upon his already shattered mind, would have the shard be no more, a spiraling insanity would only remain. As it were on the surface...anxious, paranoid..fearful of everyone, and thing. Obsessive to the point of compulsion and actions driven by colors and nothing but the remnants of himself. He could only silently guide and hold the hope that his body would comply through his mind's disarray. Yet, as the time passed...he would find no solution to the issue at hand. How, could he survive without consuming the souls of contracted humans? It'd been unheard of by the demon thus far for such a thing to be. His search had been
9 years and 10 monthsConfusion, yelling and fear. Small arms reaching in desperation, a swift and loud CRACK, followed by the thump of a small body hitting the floor. Silence, as the storm slowed and ended, the small form being looked upon in contempt before the assailant would drop the heavy bottle and saunter off, leaving the small boy alone on the floor. As his consciousness left him, and the blood flowed freely from the wound upon his head. Coating and soaking through the already bright red hair darkening it and sinking into the carpet upon which he lay..confusion would riddle the boy's mind..why had this happened..? His consciousness would only return fleetingly as his father would return from work, his worried voice yelling, calling to him..he felt himself cradled up into the man's arms as the older Octillery attempted to get what had happened from the younger boy. The boy's eyes..fogged over and riddled with confusion would only stare back blankly. What happened...a slow blink. His mother had beaten
Tick, tock...goes the clockTick, tock...goes the clockevery day,every night.Tick, tock...goes the clockevery moment,every placeTick, tock...goes the clockit's everywhere,I can't escapeTick, tock...goes the clocka never ending symphonywhy can't it ever leave me be?Tick, tock...goes the clockin the back of my mind,even if my ears cannot hear itTick, tock...goes the clockthere is no place here,that the ticking does not haunt meThe agonizing stress,that SOUND.it makes me a mess,when will quiet be found?Not even away...out there,it's always at playjust..where?try to break them away,remove the battery..but there are too many, the ticks and tocks won't swaythe stress they cause is too much to carryand so...the panic arisesa mess left to be messier,but still...the faint..Tick, tock...of the clock.
How he won his homeWhispers were carried on the wind that night...whispers of the king and his tree. "The king is getting old..the king may die soon." "Who will get his home when he's gone?" the many voices of the forest's inhabitants asked one another quietly, careful not to disturb the old Nidoking in his place. "That tree is the best in the forest...it has many places to hide, many places to live." the voices would continue on, very well aware of the one listening in the shadows beyond the bushes, but paying no mind to the worthless scrap. HE certainly wouldn't be a threat to their plotting or planning, the runt couldn't fight and didn't have the bravery to go against king. They, on the other hand...or anyone else here could contend this treasure. "Should we challenge him now, while he is weaker in age? Or wait until he simply dies of his own?" they would question, each inhabitant in this place wanting that tree as their own, each determined to obtain it.Listening intently from where he hid, the youn
Go ahead and hate me.Go ahead!Hate me,despise me.Without me ever having done anything but live and breathe.Glare at me, look at me like I'm trash.Maybe I'll disappear one dayI'm a nasty little kid, a bastard teenager, and a worthless man.But know, you're what made me who I am.I didn't know as a kid. I cried and hated it. As a teenager, I was lonely and desperate to feel loved. Now as a man, I am cold and cynical.All that makes me happy in the world is this twisted idea of mine.You hate me, but you can't ignore me. I'm always here, you'll always look at me. Even if you hurt me, as every single pair of eyes that lands on me ultimately wants...I will welcome it. Because then...someone is paying attention to me.I'll insult you, I'll hurt your pride, scoff at you, goad, push, and pick at you.But...It's only because..I want to feel like someone cares.And this...hate and pain, is all I know. &
One by one, we wait to dieA single scream cuts the silence,then turns to manyall we were was compliant,why us?We didn't cause this,but we suffer the mostwe all miss...what did we do?Our lives,torn asunderfor our hosts' squabbleWe know that we won't move away,but...In our hearts...we feelAnd each day, another of us diesYou have no heartpunishing them,for our fightIt's not right.
I'd Rather Be DeadYou're always asking me if I had anything worth dying for.I'll pose the opposite to you and ask you this:"Why is it that you find life to be worth living?"Is it so interesting to go through each day feeling anxious?To the point that you feel nauseated enough to collapse.Is it so joyous to spend each night staring at a blank ceiling,Hearing the clock tick on toward morning,And yet you lie awake.Tired, but awake, emotionless, but awake...Do you truly get up each day, facing it with optimism.Or do you look at the news and the state of the world,And genuinely fear for your safety?Now, if it were me that you had asked my dear,I'd tell you quite honestly: That I'd rather be dead.At least I would not have to hear the white lie inside my head.That tomorrow will bring me a 'better' day...But of course, you are welcome to believe that.
Stripping MeYou may take what you want from me,Be it my pride or dignity.You may throw insults at me,And burn the shredded pieces of my sanity.You may belittle me, as much as you want,If only to make your meager life worth living.---But even if you do all that...---No one will protect you when I pull you into the dark.No one will try to search for you, as my leather ropes tie you down.No one will hear your screams as metallic screws drive into your face,Etching an eternal smile, since you'll never leave this place..."Now then, my dear sweet James, shall we play our favourite game?"
You are someone's reason to liveShe had skin like a cactus-believing shecould only hurtanyone who gottoo close,forgetting thatinside,she held whatpeople neededmost.
collisionsi.it is dark, unfamiliar,but your fingers seek out his,and you know thenthat you are at homein his harmonyeven if justfor now.ii.hold him;he's incendiary, sure.a veritable (volatile)molotov cocktail ofnot-okaywatch as he emerges,ashen-limbed from a cocoon of youto entwine with the threadsthat hold you sane.iii.smoldering indolentcoal-flicker eyelidswant nothing more thanto hiss and steam;than to coolin your stillnessiv.redolent of broken-record risk-taking chances untilthere's nothing leftbut scratches and glitches in the wordworki mean woodwork,i mean, skin.but oh god, he loves youjust like this,like that,this way.v.this is a choice:you may destroy him,extinguish his flamesand half-bury him inthe ashy remnantsof his own conflagration but it's an impotent powerthat is granted, not taken.
i'd haunt you if you'd like.my hands are paralyzed and you're waiting for me to touch your face,but that doesn't really matter because i'd rather touch your souland if you close your eyes long enough i'll read you poetry as we lay atop the monkeybarsin this old and rusted parkyou can pretend to know the constellations and point them out to me and i'll tell you they're all beautiful, but nothing compared to youif i'm lucky you'll blush and laugh at me,tell me i say the dumbest things but deep down it'll register in your soul just how much i love youand i know they say you can only save yourself, but darling i swear if you'll just have the slightest bit of faith i'll save the fuck out of you or i'll destroy myself trying,because i honestly can't think of any other purpose for my lifeor what smidge of it i've been able to hold on to.
Hopeful HeartThe sky is pitch blackAnd so is my heartAfter all the painI went throughAfter all the effortFor a lost causeSo I look upLooking for a starA ray of lightTo guide me awayAway from this darkness inside my heart
Heart strings.The lines,that connect our hearts.through them we feel,something very real.The bonds.Of love, life, friendship...these tender lines...that joy defines.