I STARTED SOMETHING I COULDN'T FINISH / open

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]

    trigger warning(s)


    [size=7pt][font=georgia]Get it together.


    "I want to be the dark." the tom thought aloud, his lanky form shaking as much as his voice. He was still quite weak, still too skinny to be considered fully healthy. But he'd been eating. It was hard to eat though, it was practically oddly painful, but he was managing. "I want to be blindsided. I want to be hidden. I want to engulf it all. All the animals come out at night. Maybe I could be out all the time."


    All he did these last few days was mumble nonsense. He wasn't a mad man, but it seemed that way. He was just not containing what he felt, those ferocious, loud thoughts in his head anymore. It wouldn't be a permanent thing, these walls to his mental fortress fallen and letting it all free, but for now everyone who came near him would hear that usually restrained nonsense.


    This nonsense was serious, it was dangerous. Part of the nonsense in his head was halfway suicidal. He wanted to starve himself to the brink, but he was too scared. That only made him feel disgustingly worse, partly because of the fact he hated being that weak and also because he hated just living his life like he was onlooker watching it unfold. He wanted to be in his shoes and feel that way, and for some reason, he thought death would actually let that happen. It was all nonsense, it was, it all didn't add up. It was exact nonsense.


    The rough looking Morrissey currently sat, slouched over a mouse. The mouse had been barely messed with share the marks of a nibble or two. He had been finciky with his eating as of recent, sometimes playing with it or doing what he was now - staring blankly at it. Moz always had a dream-like stare, and dreamy, spaced out body language; like how he tilted his head down or up when he talked or stuck his chin slightly out, or let his eyes flutter close. But this wasn't him. This male was still, quiet, zoned out as if he was on a trip or something.


    And suddenly, his eyes were starting to well with tears. "Damn it all."

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=#010101; border:0px; width:370px; height:17px; font-family:arial; letter-spacing:-2px; text-align:right; color:#83F0E7; font-size:22pt;]lets go back to the start.[/fancypost]
    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px solid transparent; width: 400px; min-height: 200px; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;]
    [b]"Morrissey?"


    It had been a blessing to see him again. Injured or not, weak or not, things had felt wrong without him there. Perhaps he had was a bit sharp, or too withdrawn, but to the cameo, that was just Morrissey. And not having him around was like a piece of his foundation was gone. He'd functioned alright, sure, but it was like walking and falling into a ditch at random. There used to be something there. Needless to say, those moments hurt rather terribly.


    He wanted to help. He'd wanted to be there for him before all of this, but he just... Hadn't. Or maybe he had tried, and simply failed. That didn't make him feel any better, of course. It was either he hadn't tried, or he had tried and lost. Did he ever win? Lost his parents, lost Morrissey, lost himself. Twice, now. He was putting himself back together, oh so incredibly slowly, but steadily at least.


    Approaching almost hesitantly, it was hard for the Head Paladin to speak anything other than his name. If only he could read minds, or emotions. That would make everything so much simpler. "Are you...?" What, okay? Stupid. He was pretty sure he wasn't even wanted here, with him looking sick and sad.
    [/fancypost]
    [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px; border-top: 2px solid #010101; width: 370px;][/fancypost]

    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px solid transparent; width: 150px; font-family: arial; text-align: left; margin-top: -20px][size=5]★★★

    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px solid transparent; width: 220px; font-family: arial; text-align: left; margin-top: -13px; max-height: 70px; overflow: auto;]

    tags (scroll)
    tags (scroll)

    [align=center]
    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;width:auto;font-family: georgia;font-size:20px;letter-spacing:-2px;line-height:1px; color:white; text-shadow:0px 0px 5px black ]SEBASTIAN VAEL[/fancypost]
    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;width:440px;text-align:center;line-height:19px;margin-top:-10px;font-family:georgia][size=10]chestnut cheetah + 17 moons + BlizzardClan + difficult- attack in [b]bold gold
    [/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 428px; margin-top:-7px; font-family:georgia][justify][size=9pt]
    Many of those here were in pain. Sebastian could feel it pervade the air, sinking down upon his shoulders and pressing there, adding a weight despite how preposterous it was to be guilty on behalf of people whose troubles were not caused by the chestnut creature. He had no hand in the making of that which ailed them, and yet his lack of immediate action to at least offer his assistance offended that part of his conscience. He had sworn, long ago, to help all those he was able, to resist bias and injustice. Thus far he was doing poorly in upholding that.


    The thin male was small but he managed to consume Sebastian's attention in a way that he should have been eating the rodent at his paws. His skin prickled, a sharp frown dragging down the corners of his mouth, but, lest the individual believe it was he who caused it directly, he smoothed it away from his lips. "I offer my help in any way that you need it, serah." Few people opened up to strangers so easily, but he felt the need to provide that, if his clanmate were to require a faithful ear.


    His gaze went to Arcade, measuring; he could see the want in him as well, the wish to provide, the self deprecation for the inability to do so. Sebastian was no foreigner to guilt, and often he grew angry with himself for any and all perceived failings. He would extend an invitation towards him as well, when the proper moment arrived, to give any sort of aid he could.

    The post was edited 1 time, last by S. VAEL ().

    [fancypost borderwidth=; border: 0px black; border-radius: 0px; bgcolor=transparent; width: 300px; auto;][justify]

    "YOU KNOW I'LL NEVER LET YOU FALL APART"


    [size=7pt][color=#F1D38D]Tama had noticed the gravity of the situation, and would approach, rather remaining quiet. She would be there, for her friends - but she didn't wish to crowd Morrissey with words, and would leave him space to speak his feelings, if he wished to. They'd be there for him, Tama knew Blizzardclan well enough to understand that the entire clan would be there for Morrissey.


    [/fancypost]