you're losing touch . delirious

  • TAGS. it's quiet. midnight moon waning, the stars above her look like a sky splintered and cracked, rolling over fantasy land meadows, burnt blacks and scorched blues. cricketsong cradles ears, night time lullaby to sweep and swoop over the tufted skulls of animals sleeping. it is at this time, she is on the prowl. she's not the kind for sleep, not really, not truly, phantom of the day to hang upon mortal lands in body meant to be puppeteered and strings waiting to be pulled. the dead don't need to sleep now, do they?


    not that she could if she wanted.


    for thoughts of the day before writhe and scathe forefront of mind, an anger placed and burning rioting within her. you're not the leader anymore, chica. hot are the words to carve through her brain, leaving salted and embittered taste in her mouth, upon her tongue. how dare he? how fucking dare he sit there and spit such absolute bullshit her way, a lowly blow that she wasn't going to take sitting down, no, no. he should have known her better than that. chicagocrimes huffs loudly, smoke unfurling from pelt as she moves on, down one aisle of dens and over to the next, hallowed tree filled with bug tunes and wandering will o wisps, flashing their twinkling mystic lights of many colors down upon she.


    - bad start but H20 Delirious ;^)

  • ❝ I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach❞

    What was he doing wandering endlessly through the dark? Maybe it was because the darkness allowed Delirious to be soothed; ease away some of his stress. One would think he wouldn't want to wander within the camp, worried about running into the one who did so much damage to his mask.....as well as giving the raccoon something to worry about. He had to learn how to step carefully and not trigger those he wished to know....but it just didn't really work with how Del's personality was. He was a troublemaker and jokester that only really cared for the one's he knew personally....knowing they were actually worth something. Alas nobody here had really given a chance to befriend the raccoon now known as a thief throughout the sanctuary.


    Sure he went an actually apologized to those whom had their stuff taken....but it didn't change a single creature's thought of him. Besides all that he didn't have anywhere to clear his mind, mostly since staying inside of his cottage was exactly the best place for such things. That's when his schizophrenia usually decided to show itself in. That moment where he's all alone without a single creature to save him from becoming effected for those shadow creatures. This was also one of the reasons why Del no longer had his dagger. Having an old friend of his take it away before they'd all become separated; it was a blessing and a curse at the same time. If he had that small weapon during the attack Chica led against him.....a bit of blood may of been spilled that day.


    Right now he was currently wandering to and fro without any main objective. Unsure if the possibility of sleep was even an option anymore.


    "please dont hurt me."


    Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep


    //No it's so good

    Sorry if mine's all over the place


    I live inside my own world of make believe

    ———Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities

  • TAGS. jokes, pranks, she gets that, really she does, but in her mind twisted and oozing and rotted, his actions were far from a jest. it brought forth not laughter dizzying and easy but instead tendrons of ferocity, shock. it brought forth this beast of a woman, snapping fangs and curling talons into rainfed loam, a restlessness borne wily from the memories he took. ( the necklace is stored away now, in a safer place, a better place. )


    to say she regrets what she has done to him would be an outrageous lie whistling past thinning teeth; she only wishes she could have enforced the message moreso.

    and if he were to pull out a weapon on her? on her, when he was in the wrong? that spat would have not passed by so mercifully, it wouldn't have ended with her releasing him by his mask. it would have ended with her burying teeth into his throat, for feral is she, woman held in the riots of wars bloodied and cruel many times over, not impulsive but the very impulse itself.


    blood surely would have been spilled, yes, but it would not be hers.


    the shuffle of pawsteps up ahead lift wariness within the tendrils of dead girl's mind and quickly she moves to investigate, a swell of anxiety and territoriality blooming within chest, passive aggressiveness bent black, blue, violence heating heavy pawsteps. she rounds a corner and oh, what a surprise it is to see his face again; her eyes narrow at once, a coil of anger to slither down her spine at mere sight of him. chicagocrimes hisses, "th' fuck are you doin' up, thief?" suspicion and aggression bleed into the words of a voice hard, icy. the damned woman takes a single step forward, her shoulders tensing, her head low as her whip thin, tufted tail swishes side to side, against the dirt. "it's late."


    - nah ahshdhdjjf yours reads just fine!

  • ❝ I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach❞

    Being lost in thought had made running into the person he wished to avoid worse. Coming into realization that she may feel he's up to no good again; just waiting for a moment to strike. "I cannot sleep"

    His reply was quick and held little information; not willing to speak a lot towards the larger hellhound. "I'm not looking for trouble....." Maybe she thought that stopping him meant nothing would happen. To keep all the bad ones in line so nothing went wrong. But right now he couldn't even meet the fiery women's gaze; looking off to the side. If he could avoid a fight that would be the better option here. He may be untrustworthy as of now...but Del did plan to make it up somehow. There wasn't any plans on how....but he hoped to figure something out.



    The mask around his face was tighter now, hoping it wouldn't deal with another amount of damages. This was the time he had to tread carefully, instead of taking risks. "I'm......sorry for my bad.....joke" The fumbling in his words wasn't one done on purpose. It was real as he feared the one whom stood ahead of his. This may seem distasteful but he didn't know how else to go about things. She didn't have to forgive him but his soul felt a little less heavy when things were said.




    "please dont hurt me."


    Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep


    I live inside my own world of make believe

    ———Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities