[html] PROZACS--
PROZACSReally, the still-young male couldn't argue with that type of logic. Good thing to sit on. It yet seemed strange, though -- a working fountain in the middle of a dead city. Someone had to be around to feed it the attention it needed. Material things were like people that way. Needy. The water looked clean. No one-eyed corpses down in there, that was for sure. No ex-lovers he'd murdered himself. Safer than the ocean, which Tsunami had learned first-hand held much power in its depths; since the accident, he had avoided the water as often as possible, like he had when he was so much younger. But sometimes it was inevitable, and he could suck it up as well as the next guy. He had no time for irrationality these days; the lady in his mind was beginning to find him boring, despite herself. The broad-shouldered wolf made a vague, noncommital noise in the back of his throat, perhaps one of acknowledgement. Hmm. Anything to keep his mind away from the acid rain.
PROZACSThe younger canine fed the fire of words, though, pointing out Tsunami's eyepatch. The eye itself wasn't actually missing; it had faded from sun-yellow to a milky, hazy white over the year since Karloff had almost clawed it out, and it was quite the ugly sight. Not to say Tsunami had much physical beauty to destroy, really. Though, by some, the blue-eyed lady's words could have been interpreted as rude or forthcoming, the loner greeted them with a casual -- if not mildly melancholy, for reasons unrelated -- smile. Height of fashion, came his reply, and the sarcasm was blatant. He wasn't the dismissive type anymore. What harm would it do to share a bit of oneself every once and a while? Got into a scrap with some coyote about a year ago, back when Tears and Inferni weren't really getting along. He did a pretty good job on me. Only after speaking did the gray wolf realise that she might not have any idea what he was talking about. Perhaps she was new around here -- but honestly, how often did new faces really show up and stick around? And if she had been around previously, being a hybrid, she'd most likely know of Inferni. Naturally, the former Tears member was clueless as to the female's heritage. Eye's useless now. And pretty damn ugly. You wanna see? As he added the last three words, Tsunami was unable to keep the good-natured grin off his face. He was joking, though. Well, maybe half-joking.
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[html] Ah, so that was how he had gotten a lovely useless eye. Corona figured that was part of the case to begin with, but she hadn't expected a direct answer from a perfect stranger. Perhaps this really was the time for change, though she was forever disinclined to believe in it. “I figured that was how you got it. It's just about the only way anyone gets scarred up around here.” But there was no denying it, he had been here a while. Could have been from Clouded Tears, but Corona couldn't smell it on him. Perhaps he had just been an innocent bystander. “And no, I don't need to see it. I've seen them before.” Her mother pretty much had an entire eye gone; lost somewhere rotten behind a constantly closed black eyelid. But being apothecary who had travelled around for some time, she had seen them before. She had seen a lot of things she didn't want to see.
But still, the ghost of a smile that had come to her face hadn't left, either. “I take it you've been around for some time if you were here for the war.” She had wandered back somewhere in the mess of it, she liked to think. Syemv had been dismantled by then though, so perhaps it was after. She didn't really know; she had lost time and memory of both instances. Somewhere after that mess, Chimera had fallen into ruin. More than anything, part of her wished she could have found Physe to shake sense into him. Chimera had been home, and now it was just some common animal territory open to be ruined a little more. [/html]
[html] PROZACS--
PROZACSTsunami no longer carried the open, welcoming aura of storm or the misty scent of Cloudeds Tears -- instead, clinging vaguely to his fur now, was the musty smell of coniferous trees and the thick dust and dirt that had gathered for so many years on the untouched forest floor. It was fading as well, because the gray wolf belonged nowhere and to no one, and for once he found it didn't plague him like the thunder and lightning had the ancient peoples who viewed them as omens from the angry gods. His life was his -- fucked up beyond measure and sometimes too confusing to piece together, but it was his. Including all the scars and the torn up eye and ears -- they were signs of a life lived, however wrong most of the fights concerning the injuries had been. She turned him down. Oh well -- some had a knack for the morbid, and some just weren't interested, in one way or another. Four-legged, there was no eyepatch. The natural form was exactly that, and the scars seemed more suiting then and less hideous.
PROZACSThe hybrid lady then brought up information that clued him in to her past, or at least a vague part of it. In some way or another, her roots were embedded into the ground here as well. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, the gray wolf was really unsure. It was thing. A conversation piece. I come and go, came his vague reply. It wasn't intentionally vague; he simply had no more to offer. It was the truth. Whether or not he had left of his own volition, the fact was that all three times he had stayed away for some time because he had wanted to. Call it fear, or soul-searching, or a thirst for adventure; something had, every single time, held him back. Perhaps it would happen again. One day he would die here, and the cycle would end. I was born in Storm some years back. Stayed in Clouded Tears for a few months last year. How about you?
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[html] Ah yes, her turn to play spill the beans. Had they been somewhere else, far away from the current setting, Corona probably wouldn't have had a problem telling him straight up who she was. But discretion was a good friend in a city of ruin. “I come and go too,” she said, “it's quite a popular trend around here.” It was a popular trend in the world for that matter, modern packs were even really packs any more. They were divided up into respective houses everywhere else; only here was the place that clung onto ideals of the old world.
“But I was born around here, grew up here for a little bit and then I lived in France for a while.” Simple as that, right? “Came back here just to see if things had changed any since I was a little kid.” She shrugged, as though to suggest that nothing had changed. But yet, so much had changed and warped that it wasn't even funny. Chimera was gone, Syemv was gone, the things that had been around when she had been a child were gone. Now her mother was gone which was probably a fair trade off because now her father had shown up there as well. “That's pretty much it. Kind of funny how this place is still in disrepair as opposed to the rest of the world, isn't it?” Surely he had seen such things, hadn't he? [/html]
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cradle me in your crooked heart
Even the happier places the gray wolf had visited had been stepping stones, and not only to him, either. It was a popular trend, not only here, but everywhere, and those who stuck around too long seemed to go mad with the claustrophobia of it. His walking had probably saved his life and those few threads of sanity he had clung to upon his various departures. Tsunami would go mad again, being here. And then he would leave and find peace in clarity. The cycle would begin again.
The hybrid's story was a lot like his. Perhaps a little more detached -- or a lot, even. The lady didn't strike the gray wolf as the type to spill her thoughts and emotions onto the ground like blood from a deep wound. He took it at face value anyway. Digging was something he'd gladly do when his intuition told him that it needed to be done, but right then, with his meeting with Phasma lurking in his thoughts, along with the things she had told him, he just didn't have the energy. Moving forward, the one-eyed wolf sat on the edge of the fountain near Corona and leaned his elbows on his legs.
Tsunami had never crossed the ocean. All his life had been spent in North America, and he had seen quite a bit of it, but he had never crossed the ocean. He had heard tales of Europe and Asia from those he had come across in the past, though. For a time, Nora had almost had him convinced. Maybe one day he'd find her again. So I hear, was the wolf's reply. Is it good that we're becoming more like humans, though? The ghostwatcher had a great amount of respect for the Great Mother and the spirits and the ancestry he hailed from. The humans had destroyed themselves. Who was to say the canines were any better in chasing those dreams?
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[html] “Probably not, but I doubt we'll live long enough to really know,” Corona said with a shrug, her eyes leaving the grey-haired wolf and eyeing the concrete at her feet. “Some of the things that they did were decent, but I'd imagine they were too materialistic for their own good. Ever wanting power and riches. I think that's probably the downfall to anything though.” Supposedly life had a certain harmony that it lived by, she had once been told by a budding French anthropologist. Though that woman had been near the end of her life, she may as well have been one of the oldest around. What she had said made sense, and Corona was easily able to deduce that already they were following down the footsteps of man.
Perhaps continental wars would one day plague them too. “This place breeds madness. Everyone here has their own problems that they cannot deal with or control. Humans had places for their own kind that were like that. Institutions where they could be monitored and studied. This place in itself is an institution in some manner of speaking. You felt drawn back to it too, didn't you?” It seemed to be the only reason why anyone came back. To Corona, it only felt normal. To feel that the mundane was normal to her meant that she was detached from what lines were abnormal and normal. They should have been rebuilding and accepting their differences, but things were forever still in disrepair. They had yet to hardly make use of the forms they were capable of. [/html]
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cradle me in your crooked heart
Once Tsunami had subscribed to that train of thought as well. Didn't matter, because he wouldn't live long enough to know anyway. It was different now; the future, as they said, wasn't inherited from one's ancestors, it was borrowed from one's children. Funny how hearing himself called Father had changed his life so much, and forever. Materialism was the devil himself; the constant search for something greater. Ambition, it can give life and take it away. Even whether curing disease is a positive thing is debatable. The weak are supposed to die. The Earth Mother kept a careful watch over that certain harmony. It was an important thing, maybe the most important thing.
This place indeed bred madness. It was an asylum and a prison simultaneously. I crave freedom, but whenever it finds me I crave the routine and everything else I've left behind. It's a game nobody can win. And a cruel game it was, at that; though in his heart Tsunami knew that Fate and Time were merely doing as they were suppose to, it made the living the victims. What mattered, perhaps, was how well one dealt with it. It's about balance, he added. The gray wolf had been raised with the primitive backwards ideals of the New World, and had never seen cities in their full majesty and splendor. He was the wolf's version of a Native American, strong, proud, brave, ultimately helpless under the pure destructive intent of technology and advancement. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. The Earth Mother watches over us and tends to our needs as much as that balance allows her to. We throw off that balance, that harmony, the affinity for that which gave us life, and we will die because compared to it, we're expendable. I think that's why I keep coming back. Though there is death and madness, though this place is an asylum of sorts, there is a certain balance to things. And his pain for all that he had lost was ultimately a complete necessity. It was the way of life, and sometimes it was only the knowledge of that which had kept him sane. What drew you back?
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[html] From the moment that he started to speak, Corona found that she liked his logic very much. Perhaps they had both done a lot of thinking in their time, working out what perhaps the true meaning of everything was. Whatever life and the world were supposed to be was really anyone's guess, but she found a lot of truth in what he was saying. Automatically life weeded out the weak, yet it only helped the strong figure how to take care of themselves. If they couldn't, they were weeded out as weak. For yin, there was yang. Balance was truly the only thing that kept them all coming back. “I wanted something familiar. I guess you could say I was looking for balance too.” Now that she was here, she had more reason to stay this time. Her father was there, Misery was there, and soon she would find that her mother was gone and her brother the new crowned king of the coyotes. Whatever way the world worked in, there was definitely a balance in its maddening methods. [/html]
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