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+----- Thread: [private] You gave me a heart that was full of mistakes // Carnage Quest Exchange // (/showthread.php?tid=21003)
You gave me a heart that was full of mistakes // Carnage Quest Exchange // - Rey - 10-02-2018
DISCLAIMER: this is word vomit but I’m sticking the post so it can be easily viewed by officers. What occurs in this thread is a trait exchange between Wolfbane and Rey, approved by Cassi and written out for plot reasons.
Where I wander makes no difference, but what I do in order to deal with my shell-shock does. Arthas was privy to the worst of my ordeal, having seen the initial state of my body post summoning, but soon thereafter I awake and find the injuries healed entirely. They leave ragged tattoos and I understand why, though I detest the empty idea of somehow belonging to anything at all. I also feel altered, not so much as a state of mind (the darkness creeping in only seems to get worse, actually) but more so in the sense that I’m healthier than I’ve ever been, and younger looking at that.
This won’t do.
I won’t allow death to be taken away (I long for it now) and I certainly won’t allow the notion of my physical body being used as a weapon of sorts (never again) so I make a silent pact and head north towards Loess. What the chosen brought to life is bigger now than anything we could’ve imagined, and what I’ve gained is better left in the hands of someone much more capable, more deserving. “Wolfbane…” I murmur, approaching him from behind after some quiet hours of searching through the varied landscape of my previous home.
It feels strange to be back; I’m almost glad to be moved into Sylva. The brightness and life flourishing here would only make my thoughts more ill. Halting nearby, it’s easy for me to discern the obvious surprise on his face, accustomed as he’s become to my hermitage. Still he grins that boyish smirk we’ve all come to love, and turns to hear me out as if we’ve always been this close.
Until he notices the missing wings and the new body art. “The Gods are at play.” I answer his unspoken question, “I wasn’t the first to suffer and I won’t be the last.”
My only warning.
“But I’m not the kind to endure it again. You are.” I barge on, effective in stemming his already pursed lips from emitting sound. “I want you … I need you to have something.” I plead, and to my honest (but mild) shock the oddly colored stallion begins to violently shake his head.
He looks terrified, unaware that if he’d seen what I witnessed he’d be urging me on. “No,” He denies, “I won’t leave you defenseless.”
I laugh, bitterly, and chide him with “Hush. Take my gift and don’t make me ask twice.” Before a cough rattles up from my battered chest. My color fades, white to sickly green, and I tuck my head. I don’t see the determination in his eye, or the way he sets his jaw like a stubborn child before pressing his forehead to mine. I only feel a bright spark - electric and sharp - from within as we’re granted the single exchange Carnage instilled in all of us survivors.
And then a pressure aches against my jaw, and I can feel my body settling on old age again with the groan of weary bones. “Vhat??” I mumble, inhibited by two new fangs that jut out from my teeth. My tongue explores their alien feel while Wolfbane laughs, asking me “Did you give me a better sense of humor?” like this is a joke and he’s avoided something.
I don’t even answer: my ears flatten and I strike him on the nose, ripping one nostril completely asunder before he can wheel away in shock. “You bi- !!” He gasps, and then we both grow still, entranced by the way his skin instantly begins to knit itself back together. It would seem that we’ve traded altogether, fangs for regeneration that will eventually turn him ageless. I hadn’t expected it to be a two-way deal but … just when I assume to understand how this world works, it proves me idiotic again.
A hesitant minute slips by, finding us both speechless and I prefer it that way, stopping him with a fierce shake of my head before he can think to speak up or do something stupid like thank me. His nose is normal once more, only the fading stain of blood remaining as proof that anything occurred, and without a single goodbye I turn away.
I can’t imagine living through what’s soon to come, but I don’t want to be the one to tell him that.