even at the best of times i'm out of my mind | open + joining

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    // trigger warning about past suicide, blood, and brief moment of death. sorry for this edgy mess?? he's still unconscious, but touching the black blood might/will cause others slow corruption and decay from the inside, so you can do whatever you want with that. those that do will be contacted later since it ties into a plot for db ;0 you can skip to the last paragraph since that's the most important part.


    you feel it coming over you. the darkness. the corruption. the decay. it's inevitable no matter how many times you push it back to your mind. it'll consume you with ease and it scares you, though you hear it whisper to you. in the times you're alone and no one is near. how it promises that it won't hurt. that there's no need to hurt you after the suffering you've gone through. but you refuse to believe its lies. to listen to murmurs of meaningless comfort for it to take over. you've already rid yourself of your literal demons to stop bending to their wills, yet this is no demon. no creature of living. rather... a manifestation nobody can avoid. all you can do is delay it until you can't handle it any longer and something tells you it'll be soon.



    ( PLEASE H E L P M̵̠͕̘̗̠͕̾͗ͬ͜͟E̛̙̫̍͑̈ͅ )

    ————————————


    it's hazy. all of it. from the moment he's laying in the grass of a different landscape to the latest memories of the dark dynasty. the demon joined the place and had taken a liking to it from the similarities he drew to the sanctum. an old home now. a group soon to be forgotten except by a few whom linger about or hang on to this life. just like solsticeclan. the thought causes his body to ache in despair and longing. to go back when the days were simpler and didn't worry too much. to be considered the weirdo by whitegold after forming a crush on the angel. man, now that he looks back and gives it a thought, he was pretty weird and messed up— still is. more on the fact of being messed up than weird these days. eyes partially open themselves in order for him to aware of his surroundings before he clenches his jaw, a throbbing head piercing through his skull and releases several heavy breaths afterwards. where am i? the coolness of the grass beneath begins to register along with the fact of noticing his limbs feeling heavy. why did he walk all the way out here? this isn't the dark dynasty, nor did it smell like it.


    we wanted to see for ourselves.


    a sudden wave of nausea rolls over the awfully thin serval and his body convulses before he starts to hack up blood. black blood. but it's not like the normal type– no it's thicker, heavier and panic shoots through his thin form. oh god, he's going to die, isn't he? drowning in blood. suffocating. the demon's body convulses in a violent manner, choking as he attempts to scramble to his feet, but to no avail. orange eyes roll back into his head, thoughts travelling back to when he killed himself in the sanctum. how he sliced himself open from the left side of his rib cage the his right hip. then from the right side of his neck and curling it towards his left shoulder. how he felt the blood ooze out and cover his sheet-less mattress and soft light blue blanket. the memory seems so clear now... like it were happening now and a gurgling noise comes from the starved cannibal, front paws twitching before it registers in his brain that he's touching something. no, he— he needs to know what it is, but his consciousness is fading and can feel himself dying all over again and this sends a jolt through his system. heart pounding faster until he can feel the sensation overtaking his body and senses.


    darkness. that's all there is. endless darkness and he feels the pull.


    why do you reject us? we are not the enemy. we are the light. the savior.


    lies, lies. they're all l i e s. oh, but the lies do bring him comfort and he fights. if he surrenders now then there is no more fighting. no more him. while he can't say for sure this will happen , he just knows it. this is not the light. this not a savior of any kind. this is... damnation. the domestic feline's body jerks and seizes before going still, control of all bodily functions gone and leads to the ground to be soiled by urine and fecal matter. the whole area becomes tainted by the pungent scent of death, urine, and poop left by the deceased being, seemingly to intensify after a few minutes go by. about 15 minutes later the body of deadboy's twitches with a faint outline of his side rising and falling, not fully there– not yet.

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

    // what exactly is the immediate effect of touching the blood? just so i know how to write it :^)


    the winds shifts, whipping through spindly pines energetically, and carrying with it the terrible scent of blood. of urine. feces. death. rot. an image of a wounded littlesoldier comes to mind first, bleeding out somewhere alone after some bully took advantage of her chained and muzzled state like the last time. imperia harbors a certain weakness for the feral creature. compassion gushing from her broken heart at the knowledge that her oldest friend now lives in squalor as some sort of zombie, mind shattered from abathur’s unethical experimentation. as such, the lovely direwolf quickly forgets about her morning meal—both because the stench can kill any appetite and the rising fear that she might lose her friend for a third time. in a matter of seconds, she secures her leather satchel containing healing supplies and other necessities around her torso before exiting the prison courtyard in a dead sprint.


    for such an immense creature, peri moves with shocking grace. she seems to know how to find the paths of least resistance easily, setting down her paws with precision and nimbly leaping over any obstacles with ease. imperia’s chest heaves from a combination of anxiety and exertion as she skids to a halt upon reaching the grassy clearing. the smell attacks her olfactory senses like an overwhelming wave of filth. yet she breathes a soft sigh of relief. she does not see a dirty brown tabby bleeding out anywhere, thus the claw of anxiety releases its hold on her heart. perhaps one day she can overcome the guilt of being gone when littlesoldier needed her the most. today is not that day, however.


    argent eyes sweep the area once more. if the source does not belong to little, then who..? oh. oh. it seems that in her panic to absolve her fear, she completely missed the prone figure of an emaciated serval lying in a puddle of their own blood and filth. “mon dieu,” she curses under her breath, brow furrowing in concern. at first she thinks the stranger is deceased. why wouldn’t he? everything about him looks, well, dead. but as she inches closer, peri thinks she spots his flanks rising and falling in shallow breathes. the ex-medic need to get closer to be sure. “hello?” she calls, attempting to arouse the creature from his slumber if he did happen to be alive. understandably, peri is reluctant to get too close lest her traipse through feces and urine. but she is chagrin to ignore a person in need simply because she does not want to get her paws dirty...

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

    ❝ BOTHER ME, TELL ME AWFUL THINGS — TAGS ❞

    This is... disgusting. He thought his own death had been a mess of uncleanliness. Of his prior body rejecting pills that he had accidentally taken too much of. His breath replaced with a rancid mix of bile and chemicals. Tears that dripped until his chest lay still. An overdose on his birthday that left him feeling more alone than ever. But that seems like a kindergarten addition test compared to a college level mathematics course when this came into view. If he himself was not so emaciated and emptied, he likely would have added another putrid scent to the mix before him. But, for the blame his lost appetite and barren stomach, he is left dry heaving. It takes him a while to collect his body. His eyes carefully glance at the skinny form before him, thinner than him and covered in waste. He is careful to avoid any of the blood, feces, and urine. He takes pity, short and deserving, as he mutters incoherently. His barely audible voice is less full than his stomach, but somehow contains enough emotion to show confusion and urgency.

    koday had surprisingly come into contact with this so called corruption that was going around the clans quite a few times. one by one, individuals were turned into.....something.some kind of darkened creature that was moody and out for blood of anyone if could catch ( at least, that was his knowledge of it ). hell....wasn’t beatrice infected by corruption? or had she been? from what he could recall, it had led her to attacking her own sister....but then again he hadn’t really seen what happened before that. but even so, the prince knew that whatever the hell it was, it wasn’t a good thing. not in the slightest. what happened during this so called ‘corruption’ he didn’t quite know, in fact he didn’t really know anything about it other than it was a pretty common ordeal around the clans....but his goal right now was to not get infected and help his clan mates do the same. what would it take, to accomplish that? well, he couldn’t isolate everyone.....no, that just simply plausible to happen with how much everyone traveled nowadays ( himself included ). so....what was there to do? hope and pray? be careful? perhaps that was the only thing he could do about something he knew so little about. it sucks not knowing what to do, honestly....and unfortunately that was something that tended to happen a lot to him. not knowing what to do, that was. but he supposed with time he would learn.


    death. feces. blood. those were the smells that koday used to pay no mind to in any way, shape, and form. he had long since grown nose blind to the majority of it, having grown up around decaying carcasses in blistering heat and corpses rotting into the air. they had been within every clan he had resided in for a while....and for the most part he come to just simply ignore it. it was just a body, nothing more......though, those thoughts were upon his younger years when he was arrogant and ignorant; indifferent to any fact that someone he didn’t know had passed away, perhaps even in vain. things had changed quite a bit since then, however. he was older now, and far more level-headed than the fiesty and hot headed child he had once been. and now, the prince looked upon the bodies of the deceased with a sense of sadness and loss. he didn’t quite know why....he didn’t know said figures, after all. but there was something within his gut that churned slowly with a reminder that they’re gone forever. their souls and personalities? perhaps in whatever heaven they believed in, or perhaps diminished to nothing among the wind. their charisma, their lives, their history and their stories?.....they were gone....and forever was one hell of a long time.


    and so it was as he looked upon the bodies of deceased with haunted eyes and a soft smile that he knew, now, that he had wisened up in at least one thing. and that one thing being that he knew that he would, too, end up like them in the end. what was to be the cause, no one could know. but his memories, his legacies, his being would vanish as they did. perhaps to heaven, perhaps to hell....or perhaps to nothing at all. from this, he learned that they would all end up the same....so why should he be indifferent, when the very bodies he had seen would be his own? or even one of his close friends?


    the prince made many, many trips around the border and throughout the territory since the clean-up had begun and taken place to further make the change take place. it was so much more pleasant to walk without having to step over carcasses and all, but the best part was truthfully the fact that the smell was gone. while he had gone nose-blind to it for the most part, there was clean air to breath now. no longer tainted with disease, no longer tainted with death and decay. and in turn it was much better smelling and far more pleasant in all aspects. so, the obsidian hued direwolf made it a plan to take in the new feel of the territory. and so he did. all was well, everything was quiet and peaceful and nice......but there was a sudden whiff of one thing.....it was the scent that they had all worked hard to get off their territory...and now it was back? immediately, his stomach dropped in worry for what possibly could have happened....and upon recent events, he was betting t was nothing good. it seemed he was right.


    kodes pushes himself through the territory rather quickly after the smell, ears pricked forwards and listening for signs of distress as he continued on, winding through the forests and then through the open hills until he finally caught sight of a couple of figures in the distant border. one collapsed, and two upright. his heart dropping deeper within his gut with worry, koday picked up his pace and arrived on the scene shortly after. and the first words he had to utter as he came to stand besides perry and imperia were "what the hell..." in a breathless way, golden gaze scanning his surroundings and over the creature covered in what smelled like urine, feces, and some black liquid.....was that liquid blood? the direwolf’s face scrunched up in a mixture of disgust and repulse at the condition, but worry and curiosity lingered within it as well. "is even ali—" koday squinted, peering closely but keeping a safe distance. well, he was breathing....barely, but he was breathing. "shit, okay, he’s alive. " koday answered his own question with uneasiness creeping in his voice. now, what the hell were they supposed to do? he looked damn sick, and not in the cool way.


    the canine’s eyes widened as the silver direwolf inches closer to the body which was ridden with urine, fever, throw up, and what seemed to be black blood. instinctively — perhaps out of a want to protect her — he tensed. "imperia," koday called swiftly in a whisper of a voice, looking to the distressed and dying male at the border then back to her, who was inching closer. "be careful.....please," his words were quiet and breathy with an intense worry as she moved forth. he was genuinely concerned, not only because this dude looked like twelve different diseases in one, but because he didn’t want anything to happen to her....her intense care and compassion for everyone around her would mean she would do anything to help someone who was in need of it, even if that meant taking risks.


    "Speech." + tags & plotting

    [ mobile && welcome to the renegades!! ]

    SILENTVOICE ♚

    deaf - black hyena - female - the renegades - tags


    ― Abathur had warned her plenty of times not to touch things she was unsure about, and she never did. Especially after Deathstroke had attacked her. "Koday don't touch!" Called out Silentvoice as she walked over, feeling pain shooting everywhere from this guy. "He hurt a lot. No touch." She said hesitantly, glancing around nervously. She wasn't a medic, she didn't know what to do. "He breathing? Imperia no touch." Begged the robotic, monotone voice as the female inched closer. She was worried.

    ( i answered your question on his plotting thread ;0 )



    hell. he's in the place he hates the most. he can feel his body burning and skin melting off bones in the agonizingly familiar way. the screams of agony and howls begging for mercy flooding his ears. he can feel his throat go raw from his own cries and pleads for it to stop. begs for mercy to the god he can't stop believing in. why won't it stop?



    ( please... p̬l̗è͕̩̞a̗̹͙̤̘s͓͕̝̠͢e͔̖̳̥͞ S̡͑ͪͩ̋ ̧̭̼͔͍̬͉͈̓T̢͔͎̪ͅ ̧̜̿ͣ́ͦO͚̍́ ͈̺̣͆ͯ̂̉̐͊ͅP̮̳̞̬̩͎̏̊ͪ͜. it ḥ̡̄u̟͆̇̽͌͗͐ͭ͞ř͕͙̱̏̐͢t̯̘̠ͤś̷̼̤̑̄ )



    what are his sins? what are his crimes to face such misery? perhaps it stems from him being an abominaton to the world. that his punishment comes from his heritage and he hates it. despises his lineage, but it didn't stop the ache to be accepted by his family— by his father.


    "you are no child of mine. you are a disgrace. an abomination. a mistake. i hate you. i hate you. ihateyouihateyouihateyouIHATEYOU."


    ( father please... please love me... )


    we don't need his love. we can be better. we can do better. trust in us. trust in us.


    ( N̘̫̦̿ͩ̋͆̔ͦ͝E̘̟͇̯͇̠̿̌͠V̿̍͑̏̀͊̏͏̬̺̘͚͇͙̠͖͍E̡̞͇ͬ͐̍̃ͦR̨̻͇̤̞ͯ̔̐͛͑̆)



    he's fading. fading out of existence and it didn't– it didn't... all the pain has went now and there's no more screaming. no more stench of burnt flesh, but the putrid smell of death is familiar. it clogs his nostrils and causes them to flare with his sides expanding before releasing a long, choked breath. he can feel his tongue push out the substance that came from his mouth with a vague awareness around him.


    "hello?"


    did he say that? ...no. the voice has a feminine touch to it and eyes are slow to open, and they stay wide for a minute. the landscape is different from the dark dynasty and the memories start to trickle in. he died on some random border of a group he has no idea about and it causes his body to shift and move forward an inch in a sluggish pace. the smell of others hit his nose seconds later and weakly turns his head, shock and embarrassment flowing through him to see several animals near him– one coming closer to him. concern rolls off of the silver direwolf as she approaches deadboy and part of him wants to scream at her. to leave him be and forget about him. to avoid him at all costs. who knows what might happen next? the last thing he desires is for someone else to get hurt. a shuddering breath comes the demon and finally takes notice the smell of death surrounding them coming is from him.


    "wuh-where?" comes the hushed, raspy whisper. ear twist back as dully orange eyes slide from the pale, thin form of another direwolf and... another. jet black with white markings on the chest and he starts to speak, but not to him. no, the large canine's words are towards the female coming up to him and he can't blame the other's worry. if this were happening to someone else then he, too, would of warned everyone to be careful. who knows what they might have. unfortunately, if he had any clue of the consequences of others coming in contact with his blood then pleas of staying far away would be heard. yet he didn't and can't warn or advise her to stop and not come any closer. discomfort is evident since nobody likes being covered in their own filth and inches his body a few inches forward, though a bath is something that will have to be in order. his heart jumps into his throat as a voice yells out the names of two of the three individuals already here. telling them to not touch.


    "please. please help me." the words soft in a begging tone. he didn't want help, but he needs it. craves it despite not needing any medical attention. not physically, that is.


    ( thanks for the welcome ;^) )

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

    imperia knows of the others' presence, though she does not remove her gaze from the collapsed serval until a familiar voice rings out, piercing the pregnant silence in a concerned whisper. "imperia, be careful...please.." the lovely female turns to face the leader, ebony pupils drawn first to the patches of white starkly contrasting amidst a sea of inky black before trailing up to met his golden gaze. argent eyes glow silver with determination, fair features steeled although a nuance of tenderness softens the would-be hardened edges of a grim smile. she is clearly touched by his concern but has seemingly already come to terms with the dangers which accompany her chosen profession of healing. well, it is more of a hobby now, is it not? it is easy to forget that she no longer works under iselotta's gentle guidance anymore... she rids herself of that train of thought with a subtle shake of her head, as if the movement somehow holds power over the inner workings of her mind. "i am always careful, cheri," she reassures, foregoing her usual use of formal terminology when speaking to the warden and instead choosing to use a term of endearment in her native tongue. the urge to comfort is compulsory, possessing the ability to override even the most ingrained of manners. or maybe she is just weak to people showing actual concern for her--she has long since accepted that as a self-appointed caregiver, many people forget to care about her. even she forgets about her own needs at times.


    soon silentvoice begins to voice (heh) concerns about imperia's intentions, as well. in all honesty, the deaf female's input inspires a rare feeling of foreboding. she sees fear in the hyena's eyes and experiences a moment of self-doubt. but it is only for a moment. she cannot be swayed so easily. as easy-going as the lovely predator appears, she can be quite stubborn in reference to things she feels passionately about. healing being highest on the list. and so, before anyone else can attempt to stop her, peri retrieves a rag and fairly large container of water (although it is no more than a gallon given her lack of thumbs and reliance on the carrying capacity of her satchel). she moves towards deadboy, eager to free him from the shame of being coated in his own filth and nurse him back to health. his sudden return to consciousness only serves to make her less cautious.


    "shhh..." she soothes, crouching down beside the male and offering him only the tenderest of smiles. "my name is imperia. i am going to help you--do not worry." each word drips with honey, radiating with the kind of warmth and kindness only the purest of intentions can provide. imperia is not perfect, but she is kind. kindness is her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. and in that kindness, she does not yet realize the consequences of accidentally brushing a paw against fur stained with that strange, black blood. she is too focused on manipulating the water from the container to wash off as much of the feces and other filth as possible to notice that she has been infected. once finished, she gives deadboy another once-over. she is unsatisfied with her cleaning job, but it is the best she can do with her limited resources. although the smell is still awful and his nether-regions could still use some more intensive cleansing, it is acceptable. and so she moves on with her line of questioning. "how are you feeling? in pain? hungry? thirsty?" she wants to know why she found him in this state and what she can do to help.