i once was born to be bad - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: i once was born to be bad (/showthread.php?tid=421) |
- Laruku Tears - 12-05-2007 [html] He had absolutely no idea why he was there, but that was hardly unusual. And maybe deep down, he really did know why, but they were always such stupid and pathetic reasons that it was just easier to deny them completely. Oh, because denial had done him so much good, had it? He could have laughed to himself, but something about the prospect of hearing himself echo down the crystalline chambers scared him -- probably the fact that he hadn't really laughed in so long that the laugh belonged to someone else entirely now. Besides, his reflection was a hideous enough sight as it was. Laruku hardly recognized himself anymore. Scars seemed to obscure half his face, both his ears had more or less been torn in half, and he looked so dead. His face was like a skull and his eyes were sunken and tired. And splintered into a thousand pieces because of the dazzling crystals. The hybrid stopped and sat, leaning against a wall. Looking up, he traced two fingers over the mostly-healed gash over his throat and sighed. He could feel the fur and skin ripple beneath his touch and he could feel himself swallow. Death would be easy, theoretically, but theoretical things were labeled theoretical for a reason. You should have died that morning. All it would take was a split-second impulse. That's all it would take. But he had no such impulse right then. He had a daughter at home that would miss him if he disappeared, even if he wished desperately for her to just hate him. Looking at her hurt him in more ways than he could ever describe with words, but words had failed him for a thousand other feelings too. Laruku pulled his knees up and rested his arms and head on them. It was quiet and lonely there -- it had been his goal, perhaps, just to get away a moment, but now that he was there, he wished he wasn't. Even here, in this obscure little cave, there were so many memories. - Phasma Kiles - 12-05-2007 [html] indentThey would end up calling her the hermit woman of Storm, if they weren't already. It wasn't often that the raven lady left the lands, mostly under the cover of darkness or only for something of extreme importance. It wasn't that she didn't want to be seen, more that she simply didn't want to be bothered. Phasma had grown tired of life by now, tired of all of the things that popped up just when she thought she had something good going and, quite frankly, she was also tired of being so alone. Sure, she had a pack, but it was full of youngsters and newly formed families. Like it used to be, Phasma just didn't quite fit. [/html] - Laruku Tears - 12-06-2007 [html] The crystals reminded him of birthdays and new years, shattered expressions and warm nights. The snow outside reminded him of graves and fireflies, dandelions frozen in the ice. The wind whistling shrilly through the narrow passage ways reminded him of banshees, real or imagined, calling for his death because he had eluded its grasp for far too long. His vision blurred like a thousand mornings melted together with the sunlight dazzling and blinding him, piercing through him like he was the vampire and the monster. Two suns and one was out, a bloody hole in the sky, dripping with days and months and years of regret, passed by in the blink of an eye and filled with metaphors he used to understand. And maybe he still did, but the cold weighed down on the black heart in his chest and his throat hurt when he swallowed so he was trying not to breathe. Nights like these seemed like the perfect times to die, but they were so beautiful that he couldn't do anything more than observe them and not think beyond the outlines. Maybe he had heard her come. Maybe not. Maybe he had and denied their existence because denying things was what he did best -- it was how he survived. Even in acceptance, he denied the core of the truth because by even thinking there was an ultimate truth, he was believing a lie. Deep down, he knew that, but he didn't bother with it. Her voice seemed muffled, but his ears had been flattened and the wind was still screaming outside, louder even, as if it knew that nothing good could come of this. Why was she here? Why did she bother speaking to him? Why was he worth even that? His life had been filled with weak moments, but he couldn't remember them all anymore. Between thrashing pianos and suicide attempts, there had been other gaps in time where he had been less than presentable too, but... what. His memory was faded around the edges because it just took too much energy to care. There were some memories that would never leave him and those were enough. I've been empty a long time,he said quietly, voice scratchy and rough. A shell, a container for two wicked souls. It was too cliche to call one a demon and one an angel. He knew that he was no angel, even without the other thing in his skull. They were both monsters in their own right, each destructive and sadistic in their own ways. Sociopaths with no regard for their fellow man or beast. I would change it if I could,he whispered and there was cackling in his head. They weren't his words to speak, but those were the syllables he had fallen in love with. - Phasma Kiles - 12-06-2007 [html] indentShe'd had moments before, times when it felt like the whole world was up against her. Most of those times were the ones that made her feel like life wasn't worth living, she'd be better off not having to face it. Honestly, Laruku had given her one of those times, really, yet there she was being civil toward him, worried for him to some odd extent. Even now the raven woman still wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. What to think of the things that he'd said to her that day. If there really was something inside of him, something him but not quite, then could she condemn him for it's actions? [/html] - Laruku Tears - 12-07-2007 [html] She frustrated him. All he wanted was her to hate him because he deserved that, but she was a better person than he and so she didn't, wouldn't or couldn't. He did not understand her, but it made him feel even worse. It was people like the dark wolfess that made people like him seem all the more weak and pitiful, unable to care for or carry themselves, unable to conquer all of the sad dreams and demons that laughed and taunted them from the back of their minds -- it was strength like hers that made him wonder sometimes why he couldn't be the same, why he couldn't just let himself trek on past all of the bloody graves and lonely nights and nightmarish memories because none of it should matter anymore. She had lost more than he had (you've never had anything to lose), so why was he the weaker one here? He flinched when she sat down and again when the blanket brushed against him. Most of it fell back down on the ground so only the femme remained covered. How could she stand to sit next to him? How could she stand to even look at him? He would not take her warmth from her -- it was cold yes; he was cold yes, but he deserved that too. Yes,he answered in the same quiet voice as before, Don't you?The tattered hybrid wanted to change everything, beyond even what poetry had been spoken to him before. It was cliche also, to wish that he had never been born, especially in this season, but whatever ghost showed up to try and change his mind would not be able to show him that anything was worth his having survived his first birthday. His mother would have survived if he had not been born and certainly the saint that had been described to him would already be worth that. Perhaps Ceres would not have died if Kiriska had lived. Tsunami would never have tangled with him that day on the borders and Ophelia would not have had to toss herself in to seperate them. They all could have lived without all of this drama and heartbreak. Maybe the grey wolf would have ended up with the woman next to him after all, but their children would all have survived. He could not think of a single positive thing he had contributed to the world around him; he had only taken and destroyed, and destroyed. Laruku could not look at Phasma, I would change everything. - Phasma Kiles - 12-07-2007 [html] indentAn eye for an eye didn't exist to the raven woman. It was not her way and never would be. She would not steal from a thief, rape a rapist, nor murder and murderer. Such things were not in her ways and nor were they the ways that she believed should be gone by. Laruku had killed, his punishment was now the turmoil that he was going through, at least in her eyes. What in the world could he have done before that though, to begin this stage in his life? From what she understood, what all she'd been able to piece together, was that this started long before the moment he killed her child. Had it been because of her and Tsunami? Wasn't he doing alright back then? [/html] - Laruku Tears - 12-07-2007 [html] The past was his weakness because without it he was nothing, but with it, he was even less than nothing. The future had never been a tangible thing for him and he had never been able to picture it as anything more than a vague idea just beyond his grasp. He didn't think about it or plan for it. There was only a past and a present and both were miserable. It was why he had always wished so desperately for change, for something to destroy what had already been set in stone -- there was nothing to change in the future until it became the past. He didn't know how to make better what hadn't happened yet and it was why he couldn't look forward. What lay behind him was easy to fix with words, with senseless wishes and dreams, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe that's why he chose to dwell on it. He was afraid to act. Maybe Ire would have died regardless, but it didn't have to be in such a horrific manner and it didn't have to be by his teeth and claws. It didn't have to be him. He had always been selfish like that. The hybrid could not remember if he had already apologized. He probably already had. But the mad hysterics had hardly been appropriate from the last time they had spoken to one another and the words and screaming had already started to fade in his head. His insides had been twisting ever since the woman had entered the cavern, but the longer she spoke the worst they knotted up. He couldn't stand to be there because she could tolerate him, because she was everything he could never be and because maybe he knew that she could and did make Tsunami more happy than he ever could have been otherwise. He had no place sitting next to her. What could he change? He still couldn't even look her in the eye. The wound on his jugular stretched when he inhaled and he felt his breath catch in his chest. You're an amazingly good person, Phasma,he whispered painfully, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat. Laruku turned his head reluctantly and sullen blood-red eyes found their way to her face, sleepless and defeated. I...He closed his eyes and looked away again. He was still too weak for this and the knots in his stomach would not come undone. I'm sorry.He still wanted to change everything. - Phasma Kiles - 12-07-2007 [html] indentThe past was not something that she would toy with, though she dwelled on it more often than she would've liked to admit. There were painful things in the past, memories and could-bes, but Phasma knew that all the wishing in the world would never change it. She could have killed him that day, he likely would have let her, but Phasma knew that no matter how badly she hurt him, no matter what she did to him, that it wouldn't bring Ire back. What was the use of causing even more pain? It wouldn't have made her happy, it wouldn't have made her feel better. If anything at all, she'd be even worse off than she already was. He'd been in a bad way that day and that was why the woman even gave thought to what he'd said. [/html] - Laruku Tears - 12-07-2007 [html] A voice in his head was laughing at her. Both of them knew he didn't and would never deserve it, but he had been getting a lot of things he didn't deserve lately. Ahren had called him a good person and Melisande had said she loved him and that she didn't care about his past, but neither of them knew the details of all what he had done as well and grotesquely intimately as Phasma did. It hadn't been their son he had taken. He flinched again at her touch and pulled his knees closer to his chest. She was warm; he was cold, and he felt like he was contaminating her just by being there and it was so much worse the closer she got. Why would she touch such a disgusting thing? Because she's a better person than you. Gentle touches for comfort -- when was the last time anyone had done that? The only people that wanted to touch him wanted to kill him. Even Tsunami. The tawny hybrid with too many scars wanted to tell her otherwise, that she shouldn't forgive him, but he knew it would not sway her. And it didn't matter. He would never forgive himself and that would be that. Did Tsunami rejoin Storm?He had smelt like it, if only just a little. He didn't remember much else about that morning anyway and was sure it hadn't been him there the whole time. He couldn't remember how it had started and how it had ended, only that there had been claws at his throat and the sun in his eyes. A glorious sunset to vanquish the demons of the night, except it had all ended in failure. Laruku didn't want the grey wolf to be back in Bleeding Souls if only because he got the feeling that he would never be happy here. There was nothing but bad memories and if he had found somewhere more peaceful once, twice now perhaps, then he should go back there, and take Phasma with him if they were happy together like he liked to think they were. Elsewhere, they could have more children that wouldn't die in all the horrible ways they were subjected to in this horrible river valley and he knew Tsunami loved children, no matter what he had said about them in the past. And if he didn't want to keep the promises broken before he left again, then the ragged alpha would welcome another fight, another attempt at slaughtering the demon in his head. - Phasma Kiles - 12-09-2007 [html] indentLaruku had a friend in the raven woman or, at least, a potential friend, if he might ever come to accept the fact that she could tolerate him enough to try and be his friend. In a way she almost felt as if she understood him. She knew of the most horrible thing he had done, or what she could only assume was the most horrible, and she knew of the reason he did so, or what he claimed to be the reason. Phasma wasn't the type to just brush things off easily either, she would give credit to his explanation as it was really the only thing that she could pull together to make sense in her mind. Now they were here, Phasma knew things, and yet she'd forgiven him. She only wished she could show him that she could be a friend. [/html] - Laruku Tears - 12-10-2007 [html] Good and evil were vague and undefined concepts, but they had always been highlighted and bolded enough for him to understand the difference between the two. He had grown up trying to be what no one else around him had been, clutching at that golden halo like he would die without it. Gradually, as he grew older, the glowing light slipped away and he walked the hazy line that he was starting to lose sight of -- that was a natural thing though and he hadn't really cared all that much until the downward spiral began. And even then, at some point, he had been able to come to terms with everything he had had and lost. But it seemed that that acceptance had coincided with the birth of the sinister grin that lurked in the back of his head. Deep down, he was probably a just masochist. He did it all to himself and he didn't know how to live without it anymore. Visit. Someone was laughing; that was just such a funny way to put it. And Laruku found that he couldn't keep from smiling, even if it was a wretched, forlorn smile with no mirth in it whatsoever. He came to kill me,he said quietly, lifting his head just high enough to reveal the recent horizontal scars across his tender throat. I don't know why he stopped.He rested his chin on his knees again. It was probably mostly a lie -- he knew why and wished it weren't true because it would hurt less if it weren't true (but if it weren't true, he'd How long was he in Storm?And if he wasn't coming back; where did he go? And for fuck's sake, why aren't you with him? |