the end of the line
#1
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mall-lowercase; font-size:8pt;">ooc;


this is where Corsair's 'depression' takes a turn for the better. ;D oh and someday...he might even consider telling Garnet bout his screwed-up history. ;P



mall-lowercase; font-size:8pt;">ic;


The black-beady eyes of the crow bore into Corsair, staring accusingly up at him. This seemed fitting somehow, feasting on a symbol of death. A plague that ingested another ill omen, the unluckiness of the black bird swallowed up by the misfortune raging in his own body. Perhaps if he wasn’t so convinced of his own condition, he would wonder if his bad luck was really fate, or if he himself was causing it, but at this point, he’d gotten so far that he was now unable to take these kinds of musings seriously. If only he had a solid ledge upon which to stand, instead of hovering over a black emptiness of uncertainty…. Corsair sighed, his spirits plummeting down another notch or two. It was depressing, this business of living. Before, he might not have thought so, but the past was done and gone and there was nothing he could do. Time travel was, after all impossible any way you looked at it.



Leaning down, he took small dainty bites of the bird, it’s blood soon dying the fur around his muzzle red. The way he looked now, he probably gave off the appearance of an insane murderer, but appearances no longer mattered in his desolate world. It wasn’t as if he had a place in society anymore to begin with. Sometimes he wondered if he was simply purposely insisting that he was cursed in a fit of denial. It might be plausible, but he didn’t want to change his way of thinking, because it would hurt too much to accept the other option, that such a degree of betrayal and violence was possible in this world, natural even. It was better at the moment to simply accept all the blame, even if it gave him the appearance of a small child unwilling to view the world in a bad light despite knowing the truth of the matter.



The bird tasted of despair. The meat was tough and chewy and dry, despite the warm crimson liquid that dripped from it. It was bland and reminded Corsair of a sadness that originated from the core of your being, spreading outwards and infecting everything it passed. Such depressing thoughts, but then, this way of thinking had become normal to him, which was a sad thing in itself. He’d been corrupted by himself, his mind turning against him, taunting him and slowly driving him into the depths of madness to the point where he sometimes talked to himself just to reassure himself that he was still there, still someone who existed. Company would be welcome right about now, he thought to himself, and then smiled humorlessly. Even knowing that it was an impossible thing and even if someone came, he would simply perform another one of his infamous vanishing acts, he still had the same thought every now and then, whenever the loneliness became almost unbearable. A pathetic way to live, was it not?



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#2
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OoC:


IC:
She was still searching for her mother, though by now she was getting frantic. Everything had been all right and dandy until she had discovered her mother had disappeared. Garnet felt horrible, responsible, like it was her fault for not watching her mother more closely. She felt that because of all the time she had spent with Jazper, she hadn’t been able to keep her promise to Asphyxia. The coyote felt a sickening sensation in her gut; doubt, worry. What if her mother was hurt, or worse, because Garnet hadn’t been around to save her? To protect her, just like she had promised?

Garnet snorted and kicked at the dirt beneath her paws. This was made slightly easier as the female was in Optime form, mostly because it gave her a better view of the land. She was looking for others, hoping desperately that they had seen her mom. Someone. Anyone. And she saw him, crouched over something; a wolf. The wolf with dusty-yellow fur and tear-marked face. A snarl came to her lips as the coyote marched over to the male, smelling blood on the wind. She raised an eyebrow as she spotted the bloody mass of black feathers he was eating, but didn’t let that stop her from calling out. ”Hey! Hey, you! Can’t find anything better than crow?”


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#3
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mall-lowercase; font-size:8pt;">ooc;


short, but I had no muse. D:



mall-lowercase; font-size:8pt;">ic;


Misery resumed its work once again, corroding his spirit. The unhappiness of causing such distress for other people and himself chipped away at whatever little optimism he still had, not that there was much left anyways. Too absorbed in his own troubles and the methodical and monotonous task of eating the scrawny thing he’d managed to catch, he didn’t notice the wolf approaching until she called out. Startled, his head jerked up and he replied on instinct. ”I guess not….but it seems fitting somehow don’t you think?” Corsair blinked in surprise at the sound of his own voice speaking in normal tones and at the fact that he even answered at all. His voice was still soft and lilting, despite the fact that he was speaking normally, but he’d almost forgotten what he sounded like this loud. The loneliness had been unbearable from the beginning and so he’d grown into the habit of talking to himself, but he never really spoke in the sense of the word, only muttered and whispered nonsensical musings, usually of the negative sort. Corsair finally realized that he was still standing there, in the company of another wolf, which just served to increase his unhappiness. She was that one wolf, the one with Death’s colors…only she was standing this time.



A Luperci? He hadn’t expected that. From where he came from, there weren’t many Luperci around. Was she a leader of some sort? Corsair didn’t know why he was having these thoughts and that thought itself only served to confuse him. Dull golden eyes lifted up to meet the bright crimson ones, the contrast between the two startling. It wasn’t the colors, it was just the amount of spirit and energy that the gazes contained. Even Corsair could see the difference and he felt almost regretful for a moment or two. Normally, he would simply run away from this kind of situation, but for some reason, he felt obligated to explain his case to her. After all, she’d gotten temperamental before when he hadn’t explained properly. Although a repeat of that could be avoided if he left, Corsair felt as if the situation would be left unresolved if he didn’t offer up some sort of information, but he’d leave right after this. ”I should probably leave soon. I’m cursed…so you shouldn’t come near me. I’m sorry, but I bring bad luck even if I don’t want to……” The pure misery on his face served as evidence to his sincerity about the matter and how much he’d grown to believe it. The day was overcast….a gloomy grey with the occasionally chilly breeze that wove it’s way through his fur.




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