03-21-2023, 11:35 AM
I am not like the rest of ... them. "They" are the ones who came before me - the greats. The old Kings and Queens of the past, now formed to dust or covered by the sediments in the earth, sleeping out their immortality in wait for a new beginning. The magnificent magicians or the terrible demons, those creatures of the purest light or most sordid darkness. I am not like them, and I don't think I ever will be.
But I am not nothing. I have not succumbed to the great evils of this treacherous world, even as it broke apart and reformed itself. What I mean to say is that I'm not normal, and that should be obvious with one look. Like a clever prey animal, I'm disguised to look like "them" - pink and black all over, screaming out with color that I'm poisonous - but it's mostly a ruse. A clever disguise bred into me from previous generations, the result of an unusual pairing meant to help with my adaptation in an unforgiving world. The disguise, for the most part, is just that: a false threat.
The only strength I have is defensive.
But I certainly won't be telling my enemy that. I've never stuck around in a difficult situation long enough to find out what could happen in that scenario. In my brief encounters with the others I'm quick to spread my little wings and flutter away, and most times that's more than enough. I zip out of a tight spot and keep zipping, until the danger is days behind me, and then I continue like I always have. I'm nothing exciting or unique, but I have always, always been just enough. This time, that may not cut it.
How do I know? I realize it the moment that voice enters my head and disrupts my benign thoughts. I'm aware of the very real danger lurking out there, somewhere in the darkness that I can't distinguish from the twilight, and it disturbs me enough that I forget all about foraging for tree sap and instead, focus my entire being on the quiet forest entrapping me. For the first time in years, I can feel my pulse quicken in dread. The loneliness and singularity I craved would be my undoing unless I reacted or tried to save myself.
Something told me casual conversation was off the table today.
I don't bother trying to respond. My wings are already somewhat aloft, spread apart to prepare for an immediate liftoff, but I realize just as quickly that I'm in a tricky spot for attempting any kind of escape; The Forest is a web of branches and thick canopy. I'd just as quickly entangle myself and make the killing (my thoughts have already turned this into a worst-case scenario) that much easier. Stay calm, I tell myself. Yea right. My version of calm is panicking.
Fuck it. I decide to bolt. I'll go as far as my legs will take me through this convoluted mess of overgrown thicket, I just had to come to the Forest today. For a second I actually think I'll get away, too.
A shame that one second doesn't last very long.
But I am not nothing. I have not succumbed to the great evils of this treacherous world, even as it broke apart and reformed itself. What I mean to say is that I'm not normal, and that should be obvious with one look. Like a clever prey animal, I'm disguised to look like "them" - pink and black all over, screaming out with color that I'm poisonous - but it's mostly a ruse. A clever disguise bred into me from previous generations, the result of an unusual pairing meant to help with my adaptation in an unforgiving world. The disguise, for the most part, is just that: a false threat.
The only strength I have is defensive.
But I certainly won't be telling my enemy that. I've never stuck around in a difficult situation long enough to find out what could happen in that scenario. In my brief encounters with the others I'm quick to spread my little wings and flutter away, and most times that's more than enough. I zip out of a tight spot and keep zipping, until the danger is days behind me, and then I continue like I always have. I'm nothing exciting or unique, but I have always, always been just enough. This time, that may not cut it.
How do I know? I realize it the moment that voice enters my head and disrupts my benign thoughts. I'm aware of the very real danger lurking out there, somewhere in the darkness that I can't distinguish from the twilight, and it disturbs me enough that I forget all about foraging for tree sap and instead, focus my entire being on the quiet forest entrapping me. For the first time in years, I can feel my pulse quicken in dread. The loneliness and singularity I craved would be my undoing unless I reacted or tried to save myself.
Something told me casual conversation was off the table today.
I don't bother trying to respond. My wings are already somewhat aloft, spread apart to prepare for an immediate liftoff, but I realize just as quickly that I'm in a tricky spot for attempting any kind of escape; The Forest is a web of branches and thick canopy. I'd just as quickly entangle myself and make the killing (my thoughts have already turned this into a worst-case scenario) that much easier. Stay calm, I tell myself. Yea right. My version of calm is panicking.
Fuck it. I decide to bolt. I'll go as far as my legs will take me through this convoluted mess of overgrown thicket, I just had to come to the Forest today. For a second I actually think I'll get away, too.
A shame that one second doesn't last very long.
@Severe I wanted to throw this up, short and sweet, so you could get to the fun part. No need to DM me with specifics unless you have questions, just go with what feels right/fun for you!