Everything had fallen the fuck apart. Always seemed to, didn’t it? There’d been no sign of Mom, not since that fucking magician had taken them both, had torn him apart to get to her and put him back together when she’d caved. When she’d given up everything to keep him safe, to keep them all safe. Drow had watched her tear herself apart, carve away everything that had ever mattered to her, just so they’d be out of his reach. Just so they’d have a fucking chance. He’d seen goodbye in her eyes in that last moment, right before the world had turned to hell.
And then he was home. And then home was fucking gone, and everyone with it. All she’d done, all she’d given up, and it was for nothing. The world had collapsed around him, devouring itself and spitting up something new and strange and empty, and he’d been fucking alone.
No Zur. No Rys. No Zu. No kids. No goddamn sign of Mom, but of course not. She’d given herself over to the devil to keep his filthy hands off the rest of them, and what good had it done?
They were gone.
He had, perhaps, gone a little mad. Just a bit. Tiny, tiny bit crazy, and who could blame him? Everything he’d ever known was gone in the blink of an eye. Everyone he’d ever loved, lost in a heartbeat. He’d scoured the edges of the world that was left, but there was no sign, no scent, no trail to follow. They were just fucking gone. So he had lost himself in the wild, killing the pain by throwing away the part of himself that was anything other than a feral beast, anything other than the moment he was living in, anything other than his heartbeat and his breath and his senses, the motion of his body and an intense awareness of the world around him.
And that was all he was, for years. The present moment, and nothing else. His body, and nothing else. Until a stray scent tickled at something more. Dark and rich and dripping blood, but glorious in its hint of familiarity. He followed the smell of death and darkness, a delicious shiver rushing across his skin when mismatched eyes landed on black lips stained red with blood. The wrong blood, it should always be his blood on those lips. He walked forward, past the corpse of a dead woman who didn’t matter, past another man who had gotten to him first. A wicked grin curled his lips for the first time in years, and a bit of his old self glinted in the silver and burnished gold of his eyes.
((Shamelessly jumping in here too.))
And then he was home. And then home was fucking gone, and everyone with it. All she’d done, all she’d given up, and it was for nothing. The world had collapsed around him, devouring itself and spitting up something new and strange and empty, and he’d been fucking alone.
No Zur. No Rys. No Zu. No kids. No goddamn sign of Mom, but of course not. She’d given herself over to the devil to keep his filthy hands off the rest of them, and what good had it done?
They were gone.
He had, perhaps, gone a little mad. Just a bit. Tiny, tiny bit crazy, and who could blame him? Everything he’d ever known was gone in the blink of an eye. Everyone he’d ever loved, lost in a heartbeat. He’d scoured the edges of the world that was left, but there was no sign, no scent, no trail to follow. They were just fucking gone. So he had lost himself in the wild, killing the pain by throwing away the part of himself that was anything other than a feral beast, anything other than the moment he was living in, anything other than his heartbeat and his breath and his senses, the motion of his body and an intense awareness of the world around him.
And that was all he was, for years. The present moment, and nothing else. His body, and nothing else. Until a stray scent tickled at something more. Dark and rich and dripping blood, but glorious in its hint of familiarity. He followed the smell of death and darkness, a delicious shiver rushing across his skin when mismatched eyes landed on black lips stained red with blood. The wrong blood, it should always be his blood on those lips. He walked forward, past the corpse of a dead woman who didn’t matter, past another man who had gotten to him first. A wicked grin curled his lips for the first time in years, and a bit of his old self glinted in the silver and burnished gold of his eyes.
((Shamelessly jumping in here too.))