#awinnower

Kennings blinked swallowing, the voice was rather alluring. It reminded him of hive wizards when they sang. Atleast from what he had been told by Toland about their songs.  Shifting the citizen’s hands touched the hive charm around his wrist and then when to a white fragment that hung around his neck. “Well, some do notice without prompt and choose to ignore it.” He said hand squeezing the charm around his neck. “Though, I have seen that even when you have yelling and de-destruction, humans atleast, have a good mind to close their minds and eyes to the strange to keep sane.” He started to grow more bold holding his head up. He felt fear creeping into his bones but he would not run. Surely he could learn something from this conversation. “I...I think those that make people look at, aren’t actually all that strange or unusual and just seek to have attention lavished upon them. De-detracting from what is truly strange and unusual.” 

BEETLEJUICE   THE   MUSICAL   DIALOGUE  STARTERS  .

･ﾟ✧ MEME PROMPT: pinterest quote meme | accepting

( @awinnower )

      The words cling to her very being, gnarled talons of doubt barbed and choking. The Guardian is nearly dizzy with it, swallowing past the shards of glass that feel lodged in her throat. There had always been a question that hung over her head, that was tied to her very being. Who was she? What was she before this light had been imbued into her very system. Why had it been her that it chose? The doubt drags her into a spiral, jarring her from her trained poise and sending her crashing upon her knees. “Stop it,” she can barely growl it through her clenched teeth. This is not right. None of this is right. The Traveler had given her life. It had given her a purpose beyond rotting into the wilds of the Mumbai ruins. 

               Hadn’t it?

      Taasi throws her eyes up at the image before her, a mirror of herself. It was calm, assured in its words and she hated that she felt herself lurching toward the doubt. Following the bait. “I am not a slave. My fight has meaning.” But over the years she has started to lose that conviction. Was she fighting for the Traveler? Or was she forwarding some unseen agenda of the Vanguard? What was the point of all of this with the darkness creeping so close each and every day? Her heart strayed further from the morales the Vanguard fought so hard to instill within her more and more. Was the darkness right? What was her purpose in any of this?

     From the depth of her soul, she felt the words tumbling out of her lips before she even means to say them. How could she even trust this thing with her most harrowing uncertainty? 

@awinnower​:  “This place, the way they live, what they do for fun… Nothing matters to them.“  ／ altered carbon.

                    ❛    and this should matter to us because ?     ❜

The very essence of Luna polluted his Light like a disease, filtering away any of the warmth of the sun far, far from his bones. The air around here carried thickly like oil. An invisible smog filled his lungs that settled into ones very core. An uneasy feeling lingered about him the further one went away from the surface. Deep within the dark cathedral that is held as a place of worship for the Hive gods, Toland felt another presence in its vast emptiness. He was alone physically but something else kept him company. Something far more dark and sinister than he could ever envision.

Himself.

:// Destiny prompts // Accepting // @awinnower

She’d grown used to the Nine visions. Close proximity to the Drifter and her time spent seeking out the best way to protect him - those prophetic visions had bled over into her dreams. However since the discovery of that… Vessel on the Moon, Pan had faced other plagues of her sleep. 

She was used to nightmares - had a routine to deal with them. 

This… This was merely an inconvenience. A nuisance to her attempt to get any rest she could. Maybe They found her now only because she’d fallen unconscious propped up in a corner of the Annex, arms folded against her chest. 

You will dream of teeth and nothing else.

She was teeth. Wasn’t she?

Pan knew more. Wanted more information. Delicately, she reaches out in this Deep Void - prying back the veil. Eyes are balls of ice in her skull, burning bright white as they leak with black ichor. 

The Awoken treads lightly, looking around for any indication of what this could mean - feeling the sharp intrusion of her own canines in her mouth. 

Hunger. Wanted to feed. To hunt.

She wanted to hunt like she had before - that primal race to prey on that which she pursued. But every time she dove onto her target, they vanished. 

Pan sits up with a start. A gloved hand, palm grinding into her temple with an aching pulse.