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[size=3][font=georgia][color=white][ ❝ SPORADiCFIREWORK ❞]
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Stumbling to a drunken jagged sitting position at the edge of the hawkclan border, Sporadicfirework slammed the bottle of alcohol to the ground, watching the bottle that had held poisonous liquid crash to the ground and breaking into tiny separated glass islands in the sea of his tears and vomit. After Copperstar had come back, all he felt was guilt. Gut wrenching and heavy, the anchor that had kept his steady now broke and rusted. In the meeting, he felt like the glass bottle, containing everything with all his strength before walking away like a floating corpse. He had found a half full half empty drink that humans drank and had done it, first time he had ever intoxicated himself. It had felt good, to feel all his sentiments begin to numb and fade off like he was a perfect line that had no bumps in his mary sue road. But his hazy dream aura began to break and focus again, his passions sharpening while he sobered up. And as he sobered up, he began to wonder if he could throw all that acid out of him plus all the chemistry that was clashing with his emotions so Sporadicfirework had forced himself to throw out all, glad to feel everything beginning to dump out and leave him as an empty tin trash can.
And there he was, his spiky gray fur ruffled and messy, his eyes hard and empty. f*cking tartarus he was sick of life. Screw reality and everything, why did he need it? As he walked away or well stumbled away from his little scenario, he sniffed and wiped away at the salt biting tears that were leaking out of his vivid dashing deep blue azure optics, but you could see the heavy tear marks that had rained down his cheeks. The mountain lion didn't give two sh*ts if anyone saw them, let them see and feel bad about him. He didn't care. Let them go spread and infect ears with rumors of the crybaby Spor that had no d*ck. His muscular form stumbled at the beach and went to empty lonesome shore, in the mid catch of a sunset. Eww it looked ugly and revolting to him, he wanted to squash the sun to the depths of the sea as the viceroy collapsed to the wet sand and watched numbly as the thin salt water layers lap at his form like a curtain that fell over him. The waves calmly crashed and he felt his blue heart crack, wishing that he was like the ocean. But Sporadicfirework was stuck here, living sober in a somber event in his life.