hound
New Member
[M:40]
the ultimate one night stand.
Posts: 38
|
Post by hound on Aug 26, 2013 20:39:20 GMT -8
[bg=000000] Poser has… problems. He makes it clear so often that he has problems. That’s… that’s a lie. The ghost doesn’t really like to show anyone what’s going inside his head. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, and that’s enough to drive him mad. He’s already mad. Poser can’t help it—the Mad Hatter was already in his head, and that wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t help. It would never help. It would never stop. That was what happened when he was so damn unstable. The ghost had only gotten worse the farther he went from the chemical warehouse. Poser ached all the while.
His anxiety was another problem. The creature was always looking over his shoulder, always looking for something to spring out of the dark. It was something he couldn’t control. It was something he couldn’t keep track of. Poser cut through the darkness like a knife, trying to find… trying to find something. He needed something. He needed anything. He needed anyone. He needed anyone to take a look inside his own head. Poser couldn’t have looked inside his own head, even if he tried. It was something he didn’t want to see. The ghost was the last person that should be looking at his own memories.
And then there he was. The train station was a wreck, and it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Here he was, picking his way across the twisted metal by the light of only the moon. The moon. Curse the moon, seeming to follow him wherever he went. It was always in the sky when he came rolling in, always shining a spotlight on the one that didn’t want it. Couldn’t stand it. Poser loved attention… when it was what he wanted. When it was what he needed. The young man needed attention… from someone else. From someone with eyes. He needed… eyes. On him.
That was all he needed… he thought.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by * Imagine * on Aug 27, 2013 12:31:04 GMT -8
[shadow=black,left,100]TATTOO[/shadow] Tattoo wanted to be lost. Tonight she wanted to lose her way. She had tried for countless hours into he empty halls of the Nemilest territory trying to settle enough to drift off into the sweet bliss of dreams. Tonight, relaxation was unteachable yet was just before her. It lingered on the young female's eye lids, weighing them down. She was walking in reality, so close to her dreams that it was almost unbearable. How she wanted to sleep...
Her pelt was a ghostly manifestation of color in the moonlight. Faint shades of silver, copper, and gold were bright against the darkness. She moved slowly but, was far from paying attention to where she was going. She stumbled over a line of track slightly hidden under overgrown weeds. A slight gasp escaped her maw as she steadied herself on her feet. She glanced back momentarily before shaking her head and continuing on her way. All the time she spent wandering aimlessly and she still knew where she was. Shed been her many times before, with her brother. They'd spent more t than one night here trying to warm their bones and hide from the weather. She had always found something strangely inviting about it. At the moment, the familiar memories that cam e with being there made it feel... comforting.
She focused her golden orbs on the inky darkness in front of her, the dim moonlight barely pierced the surface of it. The abysmal darkness only deepened the dreary loneliness that was knitted in her chest. Tonight was not one of her best nights, most nights she could drowned out the dark feeling of depression with the routine of the pack but, not tonight. Tonight she wasn't sure if she wanted to see anyone at all. Though, she knew, that loneliness is rarely cured by loneliness...
|
|
hound
New Member
[M:40]
the ultimate one night stand.
Posts: 38
|
Post by hound on Aug 28, 2013 12:43:48 GMT -8
[bg=000000]Poser didn’t have the sixth sense for others that some did. He was so used to being on his own, with only the slightest passing of a stranger, that he didn’t need it. Some things faded away over time. Some things he couldn’t keep track, keep hold of. That made sense. When you’re alone for too long certain things that shouldn’t become commonplace become commonplace. He needs to be alone to survive now. The pack instinct had faded so badly from his mind… that would change. Hopefully that would change. If he had any say in it, he would get better. Poser was sick of being mentally unstable. He was sick of being by himself to fight the demons that roared inside his brain. Those demons were alive and well. They would never quit, now would they?
It didn’t seem like it. In the belly of the train station in his odd little spot, he was able to watch the sky. It was in the sky that he saw the gravest possibilities. They’d had a grave war… now what was there? Well, there was more war of course. There was war between the wolves and the girls, and who wouldn’t want a piece of that action? He certainly did. He wanted to be able to charm his way into the hearts of both sides, he wanted to be able to rip things apart from the inside out. Who didn’t? Who didn’t want to further their motivations while causing as much chaos as possible? Poser certainly did. That sounded like fun.
His position only slightly shifted where he was in the wreckage, but there was enough of a crashing to give away his position if anyone was paying close enough attention. Then again, there was enough noise in this joint to where it would have sounded normal. Everything here was so very, very strange. Poser was sick. Maybe that’s what he was—sick of it all, anyway. It was all a sour sort of maddening.
|
|
|
