Departure | [Character Post]

[Mescaffier 6197]

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"If you can ever find someone that causes

your heart to drum a thousand paces a second,

brings a blaze of fire to your heart, brings

rapture upon your mind from the sheer

incomprehensibility of your love's depth,"

 

"You must never let them go, John."

 

He was recovering from another bender, a hazy night and hazy morning of a spree of drugs and fine wine. If he could not think, he could not feel; what dreadful things the mind could think in substances' absence. He felt cold and hot all the same - nauseous but still - sick but starving. He teetered on the edge but never over, somehow. His livers should have given out; he knew that long ago. But he hadn't. And the reason itself was in his very being, that fae-thing that'd attached itself to him. For all the harm it did, it did so much good.

 

But what was a Human, if it did not cause harm to all it touched, like those that slayed the druidic beast-shifters all those centuries ago?

 

Having just sent off a rambling letter, he'd crawled back to his hiding place in the trees and drew forth his dagger to polish it. The second voice in his mind hissed - and then yelled - and then screamed. His softened mind could only comprehend it as he'd felt its vile edge pierce his glove and then his flesh, turning his blood black. Nothing at all. Silence, for the first time in years. He was still thinking about what had happened in Hohkmat. What was that feeling? Anger? Spite? Jealousy? 

 

And then there was the pain.

So much substance he should never had thought of touching, filling the holes where human interaction would've sufficed. A conversation, even.

 

The dedicant's shrieks filled the forest that night, weeping of a great loss and a worse, horrid pain both inside & out.

 

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