04-01-2021, 01:43 AM
choke them on the ashes of the dreams they burned
The emotions he takes are a curious thing, in the sense that he did not really feel them. The kind that he fed off of—their sorrow and rage, all their anguish—it fueled and energized him, but he did not really feel them after taking them. They seeped into the core of him, thrummed in the shadow of his veins and became his lifeblood, but they are not his.
He has his own angst and self-loathing that knots in his chest, a tangled web of regret and anxiety, all of them so potent that he does not notice if what he takes adds to that, or does nothing at all.
When her own fear rises to meet the fear he had encouraged he feels the familiar pull in his gut, the gnawing want of needing more, but he quiets it. He had learned that if given the chance, he was always hungry. Whatever beast had taken root inside of him was insatiable and impossible to distract once it caught the scent of what it wanted, but the longer he lived with it, the better he came at staving it off.
Not forever, but for now.
The mention of Taiga is perhaps her saving grace. Something in his eyes seems to shift, a new layer of depth beyond just the bright, nearly supernatural glowing red. “Taiga,” he repeats, and though she cannot see it there is a smile on his lips, and it fits itself around the shape of his words. “I was born there.” He had not always been this. He had been a normal boy once, painfully ordinary and dwarfed by the redwood trees and desperately wishing the shadows would love him the way they loved his father. “My family still lives there, but I doubt you’ve ever seen them.”
Another invisible smile, and a shiver of a laugh. “They don’t leave the shadows often.”
He has his own angst and self-loathing that knots in his chest, a tangled web of regret and anxiety, all of them so potent that he does not notice if what he takes adds to that, or does nothing at all.
When her own fear rises to meet the fear he had encouraged he feels the familiar pull in his gut, the gnawing want of needing more, but he quiets it. He had learned that if given the chance, he was always hungry. Whatever beast had taken root inside of him was insatiable and impossible to distract once it caught the scent of what it wanted, but the longer he lived with it, the better he came at staving it off.
Not forever, but for now.
The mention of Taiga is perhaps her saving grace. Something in his eyes seems to shift, a new layer of depth beyond just the bright, nearly supernatural glowing red. “Taiga,” he repeats, and though she cannot see it there is a smile on his lips, and it fits itself around the shape of his words. “I was born there.” He had not always been this. He had been a normal boy once, painfully ordinary and dwarfed by the redwood trees and desperately wishing the shadows would love him the way they loved his father. “My family still lives there, but I doubt you’ve ever seen them.”
Another invisible smile, and a shiver of a laugh. “They don’t leave the shadows often.”
torryn
@[Amarine]