03-12-2008, 08:14 PM
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Hai Laura. ILY. Sorry it's SO fucking late. <333
___The sun was setting, the hazy glow coating the lands in a painfully dim reddish tint. Anya feared sunset more than anything, if for no other reason than the painful memories it brought. Sunset was always a time of an ending, a loss, some painful experience that would add to the stains and the scars. It was inevitable... the worst things happened when the sun was not present, it seemed. Her mother's insanity had seemed to surface most in the presence of sunset or dim light, and as such, Aiji Sadira had died within her nightmare... just as the sun was half-mast and glaring with a single, angry crimson eye... double that and there was Ahren, double again and Anya completed the nightmare.
___No matter what, Anya was reminded that she was only another scar, another stain upon her mother. Living, breathing, cheeky proof of Aiji's mistakes and her pain. Her eyes narrowed, crimson meeting the inanimate yet matching red glare of fire sinking in the sky. Anya wore her sins in her eyes, painted on her features, sewn to her soul. Everything about her screamed her life story... and yet, nobody ever seemed to perceive a word of it. No matter how loud she screamed, nobody was listening. Her stomach turned. She wanted to hurt. Oh, she wanted to hurt. For the first time since her mother had dragged her here, her claw found the skin beneath her pelt, and she tore at it, not even realising what she was doing as she curled under a tree and whined. Her jeans were stained with blood of many colours even before the first drop hit; hers, her mothers, those who'd dared challenge her, food, those she'd found gone before she could have been close enough to heard their screams. Travels had learnt her well, and now she saw the world in fire and ice, black and white, bad and worse. Nothing else.
___The drop hit. She blinked. No tears. 'I must not cry.'
___A nearby building caught her eye as the curtain shifted, and a form perched in it. A coyote, or perhaps a hybrid. Hard to tell. She didn't much care. Her eyes met the colour of his for a moment, and her stomach turned. Crimson. 'Damian-disarray-hate-Ahren-destruction-love-Anya-death-hate-love.' Another violent intestinal twist, and she muttered softly under her breath, cruelly, to herself. "Try to find an apothecary. Or maybe a therapist. Stomach's not gonna hold up if it keeps up." Slash, pang, drip. Her mind wasn't clear. She could smell her own blood. Whatever. Another scar. It was the same as anything else. Last time, Aiji was to blame for her being here, and the effect of Ahren on her. This time...
___She was the one to blame.
Hai Laura. ILY. Sorry it's SO fucking late. <333
___The sun was setting, the hazy glow coating the lands in a painfully dim reddish tint. Anya feared sunset more than anything, if for no other reason than the painful memories it brought. Sunset was always a time of an ending, a loss, some painful experience that would add to the stains and the scars. It was inevitable... the worst things happened when the sun was not present, it seemed. Her mother's insanity had seemed to surface most in the presence of sunset or dim light, and as such, Aiji Sadira had died within her nightmare... just as the sun was half-mast and glaring with a single, angry crimson eye... double that and there was Ahren, double again and Anya completed the nightmare.
___No matter what, Anya was reminded that she was only another scar, another stain upon her mother. Living, breathing, cheeky proof of Aiji's mistakes and her pain. Her eyes narrowed, crimson meeting the inanimate yet matching red glare of fire sinking in the sky. Anya wore her sins in her eyes, painted on her features, sewn to her soul. Everything about her screamed her life story... and yet, nobody ever seemed to perceive a word of it. No matter how loud she screamed, nobody was listening. Her stomach turned. She wanted to hurt. Oh, she wanted to hurt. For the first time since her mother had dragged her here, her claw found the skin beneath her pelt, and she tore at it, not even realising what she was doing as she curled under a tree and whined. Her jeans were stained with blood of many colours even before the first drop hit; hers, her mothers, those who'd dared challenge her, food, those she'd found gone before she could have been close enough to heard their screams. Travels had learnt her well, and now she saw the world in fire and ice, black and white, bad and worse. Nothing else.
___The drop hit. She blinked. No tears. 'I must not cry.'
___A nearby building caught her eye as the curtain shifted, and a form perched in it. A coyote, or perhaps a hybrid. Hard to tell. She didn't much care. Her eyes met the colour of his for a moment, and her stomach turned. Crimson. 'Damian-disarray-hate-Ahren-destruction-love-Anya-death-hate-love.' Another violent intestinal twist, and she muttered softly under her breath, cruelly, to herself. "Try to find an apothecary. Or maybe a therapist. Stomach's not gonna hold up if it keeps up." Slash, pang, drip. Her mind wasn't clear. She could smell her own blood. Whatever. Another scar. It was the same as anything else. Last time, Aiji was to blame for her being here, and the effect of Ahren on her. This time...
___She was the one to blame.