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12-25-2015, 03:32 PM
i am the vanguard of your destruction
[ idk what's up with this thread? but here goes. :/ ]
"BECAUSE IT HURTS!" he flung after the white filly, as she 'revealed' his hiding place, and sounding all too pleased about it. And the fog parted around him—drew back at his approach to reveal the haggard, haunted Mauja. His eyes had a darkness to them that had nothing to do with shadows, his stance that of a startled, wounded deer—his voice a broken thing rustling the world like wind. He was—had been—'just over there' because it hurt. Because, when loving left you feeling like your heart beat with glass shards in it, wasn't the most logical, the most simple, solution to stop loving? To distance oneself completely? Live the life of a loner, abandon all he had ever cherished, and everyone he had held dear, and simply walk in his isolation, free from the eventual pain of loss.
The easy thing would've been to turn away, and head back into the fog. Disappear. Walk off the edge of the world for all that anyone knew. It would spare him from the pain. It wouldn't spare them.
So guilt kept him here, because he knew how bad it hurt to be abandoned.
(And, somewhere, deep within—there was a creature who loved, and who loved to love, but was so afraid and hurt it hardly dared to.)
"It hurts—" he went on, unable to shake that mad, erratic edge from his being, from his voice. There was a tremble to it, as if he was only moments from breaking. (And maybe he was.) "—to know that of all the things your daughter knows about you, she knows that you drift. I know what I did to Snö. I saw it. I felt it. I lived it. And I know it's not up to me to decide, but I can't help but think that—that—that her life would be better without me in it. I just bring pain. Mauja, the fucking Painbringer. I break things without meaning to, and when I try to fix it, it just falls apart even more!"
His sides were heaving, head held high to the sky. Despite the harshness of his voice, of his words, there was desperation in them, and pain in his eyes; because what else could he feel? The world had driven him to his knees. To feel like you .. ruined .. the lives of your children—that they would be better off without you—was not an easy thing to feel.
"Do not dare to fault me for being weak," he snarled at them, a wounded animal lashing out in blind terror lest they see his weakness and prey upon it—and knowing that he could fool no one. The last thing he wanted was a sermon on how he was her father, how he should be strong for her, how he should suffer for her sake because she was his child. The last thing he wanted was for someone to point out to him how cowardly it was to seek the easy way out, so he threw it at them like a broken spear before they had the chance to breathe it.
"I'm just not strong enough to love," he sobbed and fled the scene, leaving only a trail of quickly melting frost upon the ground.
[ @Erthë @Glacia @Calista ]
"BECAUSE IT HURTS!" he flung after the white filly, as she 'revealed' his hiding place, and sounding all too pleased about it. And the fog parted around him—drew back at his approach to reveal the haggard, haunted Mauja. His eyes had a darkness to them that had nothing to do with shadows, his stance that of a startled, wounded deer—his voice a broken thing rustling the world like wind. He was—had been—'just over there' because it hurt. Because, when loving left you feeling like your heart beat with glass shards in it, wasn't the most logical, the most simple, solution to stop loving? To distance oneself completely? Live the life of a loner, abandon all he had ever cherished, and everyone he had held dear, and simply walk in his isolation, free from the eventual pain of loss.
The easy thing would've been to turn away, and head back into the fog. Disappear. Walk off the edge of the world for all that anyone knew. It would spare him from the pain. It wouldn't spare them.
So guilt kept him here, because he knew how bad it hurt to be abandoned.
(And, somewhere, deep within—there was a creature who loved, and who loved to love, but was so afraid and hurt it hardly dared to.)
"It hurts—" he went on, unable to shake that mad, erratic edge from his being, from his voice. There was a tremble to it, as if he was only moments from breaking. (And maybe he was.) "—to know that of all the things your daughter knows about you, she knows that you drift. I know what I did to Snö. I saw it. I felt it. I lived it. And I know it's not up to me to decide, but I can't help but think that—that—that her life would be better without me in it. I just bring pain. Mauja, the fucking Painbringer. I break things without meaning to, and when I try to fix it, it just falls apart even more!"
His sides were heaving, head held high to the sky. Despite the harshness of his voice, of his words, there was desperation in them, and pain in his eyes; because what else could he feel? The world had driven him to his knees. To feel like you .. ruined .. the lives of your children—that they would be better off without you—was not an easy thing to feel.
"Do not dare to fault me for being weak," he snarled at them, a wounded animal lashing out in blind terror lest they see his weakness and prey upon it—and knowing that he could fool no one. The last thing he wanted was a sermon on how he was her father, how he should be strong for her, how he should suffer for her sake because she was his child. The last thing he wanted was for someone to point out to him how cowardly it was to seek the easy way out, so he threw it at them like a broken spear before they had the chance to breathe it.
"I'm just not strong enough to love," he sobbed and fled the scene, leaving only a trail of quickly melting frost upon the ground.
[ @Erthë @Glacia @Calista ]
