It is so very curious how a simple event can overthrow a complete timeline. How one happening can so drastically alter the fates of those involved? And in this case, the two involved. Brothers, to be exact. Raised under the same roof under different circumstances. Circumstances that bred hate…
9 months ago | 4 notes
Source: voltroll
As am I…but it is a nice surprise. Wouldn’t you agree, dear? People shall frown on me for this. Criticize me…quite frankly, I don’t give a damn. I have no regrets. Why would I? Public opinion? Ha!
A demon….
Slitted eyes glaring at him from the dark…
Hooked talons piercing his chest and dragging him into eternal darkness. He cried out, he did. Reached out to grab at the last bits of light in his fields of vision. But all hands turned away from him, refused to help him. All their owners offered were harsh words and cold eyes. Shunning him. Damning him to whatever fate he was doomed to. Everything began to grow black. The darkness invaded his eyesight, his lungs, his mind…his very SOUL.
Oh, by the Gods it hurt. All he could feel were those malicious things in his chest, pulling him under. He wanted to die. Wanted that release, but he would not. The darkness kept him from bleeding out. He was to be trapped here, all alone. Unable to cry out or even breathe….
Tainted silver eyes were wide with fear, hands flailing about in an attempt to fend off the invading shadows before covering his face, his being shivering and shaking. That was only the second time he’d ever had that dream. And he could still hear that slithering, malicious chuckling in his ear. Why did this shake him up so badly? Why did this dream linger even in the waking world? He ran his hands up and through his hair, shuddering and trying to put the thoughts out of his head, but….something warm and sticky lingered. The witchdoctor frowned, slowly lowering his hands to see what it could be.
Warm red blood, coating his hands like days of old. It made him smile a little, observing the color in the dim light of some ungodly hour of the morning. The smile quickly faded, however, when he began to wonder…where did all this blood come from. He looked at himself, frown deepening. Yes, it was as though he had beaten someone to death and then ripped apart their insides. Blankets, skin…everything soaked in blood. He shifted to look on the floor and see if there was a dead body there perhaps, when his foot bumped into something warm and solid. This made the Redguard jolt. Why on Nirn would he EVER …? Slowly he looked over, and once again found himself paling, shivering, eyes wide with horror.
Golden skin covered in dark bruises and red life, brown hair as warm as the earth tattered and tangled…he knew that body…knew it because he wanted to explore every inch of it. He let out a scream and kicked himself from the bed, covering his face with his hands and shaking. His eyes shut tightly and he pressed his knees to his chest, gritting his teeth. Oh Gods, what happened? He’d killed before, messily and gladly. But NEVER in his sleep, never someone he did not want to harm….his eyes slowly opened and he dared to peek out from behind his fingers, but felt no relief. The illusion was gone, his room once again as it was. The only disturbance was that he himself cause in his rush to get out of bed. No blood, no body. But the image remained burned in his mind and he sat there, forehead pressed to his knees shaking.
He hadn’t ACTUALLY harmed the boy….this wasn’t some kind of grim reminder…..
Was it?
Slowly, agonizingly so, his breathing calmed and he didn’t shake nearly as bad, but he refused to move from where he sat. No, he would not move for a while. He was not afraid of his abilities, not afraid of his potential…but… being that which brought on the painful ache of destroying that which brought a semblance of happiness to his life….?
Was this some kind of omen….?
“Gods….no….”
Anonymous sent: Do you smell weird? Someone told me people like you do.‘People like me’? ‘Weird’? Very subjective terms. Especially considering everyone in this world, and I mean EVERYONE, carries their own scent. And most of the time, they cannot pick up their own scent because they are so used to it.
Now, have you some purpose for asking this besides wasting my time?
((When Nistac becomes absorbed in a project, or some other form of work, he’ll often go without food. This will often lead to him being very tired, chilly, cranky, and even passing out, and only then will he remember to eat, if only a little, to continue working.
Lately, he’s been repeating that mistake due to being wrapped up in research of extending one’s life. He finds it fascinating and mentally stimulating, so it doesn’t occur to him to sit down and eat a bowl of soup or something. At least he enjoys what he does?))
corgano sent: You're... like the moons... plenty of you. Everywhere. And the khajiit... are all different... BECAUSE... of you...………….what?
