[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Hearing the words of his leader, he pursed his lips. Something new? That sounded... sketchy. But curiosity ate at him and soon enough, he found his way towards Temperance and eyed the setup. "Maybe..." He murmured skeptically. He wasn't very fond of trying different things; he liked things in a specific order. He found comfort in familiarity -- trying new things was unsettling, to say the least.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]happy october everyone!!
i'm writing a sad sweeney oneshot because i love the Angst
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]"And are you beautiful and pale, with yellow hair, like her?"
Sweeney's voice drifted into the darkness, a sweet melancholy air surrounding it. He sat in camp, the cold autumnal night wrapped around his dark pelt. His black eyes were glazed and held a faraway look to them as he stared off into the distance, unfocused and soft. In his paws, he carefully maneuvered one of his prized razors, slowly spinning it around, something else clearly on his mind.
"I'd want you beautiful and pale, the way I've dreamed you were."
Another atrabilious lyric sounded from the black smoke. His eyelids slid over his ebony eyes, his breathing even, shoulders rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. If anyone else had been awake during this hour and saw this display, they would certainly be confused. Sweeney, someone who rarely showed emotion, obviously perturbed and unsettled. But he didn't care; after all these months of bottling up his feelings, he needed to get them out. One way or another, he would release this burden.
"Johanna..."
The word was barely audible, quieter than even his previous hushed sentences. His jaw clenched, his brows knitting together; he looked physically pained, as if saying her name was too much for him to bear. He took in a deep breath, a shudder tracing the length of his spine. He hadn't spoken her name in a long, long time. The word was bittersweet to him, the taste too familiar on his tongue.
"And if you're beautiful, what then, with yellow hair, like wheat?"
Sweeney's eyes slowly opened. He had pushed all these thoughts to the back of his mind quite some time ago. They were too painful. He had never really thought about what he'd do if he saw her again. Would she even want to see him? Would he even want to see her? The question caused the tom to bite his lower lip and swallow a lump in his throat. He sighed, the sound actually louder than the melody he was singing. The inquiries were beginning to whirl in his mind, his heart beating quicker and quicker.
"I think we shall not meet again, my little dove, my sweet."
His voice was smooth, not holding the same sorrow his expression did. His little Johanna, his daughter. It had to be for the best, right? He didn't want to over complicate things. Their lives would be better if they strayed. Besides, she was probably doing well without him. She probably would get married, have children. She would live a long, happy life. He didn't need to be a part of that.
"Johanna..."
Sweeney's eyes trailed down to stare at the razor in his paws. He held it up, watching the silver glint in the moonlight. He wished things had been the way they were, back before Turpin. Back before he was wrongly exiled, back before his wife and child were stolen from him. Back before he was forced out of his home to travel the world, less than whole.
"Goodbye, Johanna. You're got, and yet you're mine."
The words were thick and choked out, emotion finally entering his voice. He was holding back, on the verge of breaking. He wanted to stop, but the words kept flowing out of his mouth, unable to stop them. He was like a broken fire hydrant. His breathing was becoming more and more shallow, his once-steady paws shaking.
"I'm fine, Johanna, I'm fine."
Sweeney quieted down, his body returning to normal. His black eyes shut tightly, a tear tracing down the length of his cheek. He had to be fine. This was no time to break, no time be on the brink. He inhaled sharply, remaining utterly silent for a few moments. He was still and could be mistaken as a statue, his silhouette unmoving and eerily still. It was as if the life had drained out of him right then and there, and he was merely a shell of his former self. Had he been in a different mindset, he would've laughed humorlessly at the thought. Was he not already a shell of his former self?
"And if I never hear your voice, my turtledove, my dear,"
The idea was becoming more and more realistic and less and less painful. He was becoming more okay with it the more he thought this through. Would it really be all that bad?
"I still have reason to rejoice the way your head is clear, Johanna..."
Would it be fair to tell her of the horrors her parents had to endure? No. He wouldn't want to be the one to tell her a higher up lusted after her mother and sent her father away in cold blood, then pursued Lucy until he violated her and consequentially killed herself. It would be unfair to her. She didn't deserve that. She could live in ignorant bliss, thinking her blood family was the one she was living with.
"And in the darkness when I'm blind with what I can't forget,"
Cue the irony. Sweeney smiled a joyless smile, his gaze settling on the starless night sky. He remembered everything so clearly. He remembered that day so, so well. In the flower shop with his Lucy and Johanna, offering his betrothed a bouquet and tickling his child's rosy cheek with a daisy, he was completely unsuspecting and oblivious. The door was pushed open with such force, some of the patrons screeched in surprise. Then the Beadle -- that damned son of a bitch -- pointed his curled finger at Todd and a swarm of police officers came running in. His crime? Foolishness.
"It's always morning in my mind, my little lamb, my pet, Johanna..."
And every time those memories washed over him, he could still find the silver lining. He could remember his wife and daughter's features so clearly, so perfectly. They were ghostly beautiful, eerily charming. But as days and weeks and years past, their features were becoming less and less clear. The visions blurred around the edges, the words scrambling.
"You stay Johanna, the way I've dreamed you were --"
But even as her features became less and less easy to recall, he always had his dreams. He could imagine how she grew up -- beautiful and blonde with fair features, resembling her mother. Baby blue eyes and thick, glossy fur. He would always have that to cling on to, if nothing else.
"Oh, look, Johanna! A star -- a shooting star."
Oh how poetic. Oh how sweet. Sweeney's pitch eyes followed the blinding white in the sky as it trailed further and further away before fading into the cosmos with a wink. Was she seeing this? They were under the same sky, right? A joking thought crossed his mind that made his heart heavy. Maybe that was Lucy, a flick of her angelic wings sending her flying across the sky where her husband and daughter could see.
"And though I'll think of you, I guess, until the day I die,"
The memory of the star was fading and his mind was back on more pressing matters. His hope -- rather, what little he had for that fleeting moment -- had long since washed away, his eyes losing their glint. His sweet voice still held that twinge of despair, still lilting through the sleepy campgrounds.
"I think I miss you less and less as everyday goes by, Johanna."
His voice broke in the middle of the thought. It was a sad truth he had to learn to live with. Every day without her, while it was painful, was becoming easier to bear. He remembered what it was like the months right after he had been forcibly removed from his family. He cried himself to sleep every night, the pain so fresh, so intense. There was a gaping hole in his chest and, while it would never go away, it scarred over. He was learning to live.
"And you'd be beautiful and pale, and look too much like her."
Sweeney was really just trying to justify this decision now. However, it was still a fair point. Could he really bear looking at his little girl and seeing his dead wife in her eyes? How painful that would be, to be constantly reminding of his lost love. It would be too hard.
"If only angels could prevail, we'd be the way we were, Johanna..."
Again, he longed for his previous life. He missed them both so dearly -- he missed holding Lucy in an embrace, the taste of her in his mouth, her smell invading his senses. He missed holding his daughter close to him, lulling her to sleep. He would give anything for that back. He would slaughter an entire empire if that meant he could have one more day with his family. He would get revenge. One way or another, Judge Turpin would pay for what he did.
"Wake up, Johanna, another bright red day."
Her future was bright. She had her whole life ahead of her. She would never see him again, and that was okay. She didn't need to live with the turmoil. No matter how much he missed her, he would stay away. For her. He had to.
"We learn, Johanna, to say,"
Still, even with exacting his revenge on Turpin, he knew it wouldn't change anything. He'd feel some sort of relief, sure, but that wouldn't bring his wife back. That wouldn't bring his Johanna back to him. But, damn, was he going to make that sick bastard pay for what he did. His grip on the razor tightened til his knuckles turned white with blood loss. A solitary tear rolled down his face as he finished his lament.
"Goodbye..."
( ooc ) word count: 1614. tl;dr: sweeney was singing at night and now he's holding his razor and crying like a baby. u don't have to respond or try to match muse! the song is, obviously, johanna from sweeney todd! i don't take any credit for it aa
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]I FINISHED IT'S UP
i don't think it's that sad dw haha
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]track as sylvanclan ambassador
personally, i'm not part of this group officially so you can take my opinion with a grain of salt, but i think a takeover wouldn't be a bad idea,, activity seems v low and at least a temporary takeover would probably be for the best imo. at the very least quite a few events and maybe like,, hp tryouts or a mass adoption.
again, not really a big part of paladiseclan but i was planning on having sweeney stay for a few days but activity was a turnoff,,
[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]whisPERS evelyn and sweeney could cry over their sad pasts aa
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]swevelyn will prevail,,
want me to make the thread?? 0:
i have one character who is like. not sad at all. it's just rly fucking happy to be alive but other than that every character i've had has some sort of sad aspect to them haha
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Sweeney was moping in the shadow of a looming building, one of his trusted knives clutched gracefully in his paw. One might wonder why he didn't just slice his own throat open and end his life finally if he was in such constant turmoil. He had a simple reason: he was only alive for the revenge. There was only one reason he was still alive. He was going to find that bastard Turpin and kill him, make him feel a fraction of the pain he caused the tom. That was his one goal, then he could die happy. He had made his peace with the fact he would never see his daughter again, and frankly didn't want to live his life without his wife. He would join her in the afterlife after his revenge was reacted. They would watch over their daughter, be her guardian angels.
The Maine Coon sighed, hooded eyes downcast.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2442961.new#new there's swevelyn!
yES baby should meet them both!! we could have a private thread between the three maybe?? baby would love them so much omg,,
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]ASDFJFSA I FUCKING LOVE THREADBANGER H OLY SHIT
anD yes i'll make the baby evelyn kyou thread now >:^3c
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2442978.new#new
there u are my children
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Hearing the sobs, Sweeney was half-tempted to turn tail and walk out of there. He was not at all one for comforting others in their time of need; how he could console someone when he couldn't get his own shit together? But he knew that was inappropriate. He knew he needed to see what was wrong. It was his job, kind of. A frown etched on his features, the shadowy figure slunk over towards the sound of hysterics and the reek of alcohol.
Todd's ebony eyes fell on none other than Evelyn. She wasn't one he recognized, but she was a clanmate nonetheless. He took a hesitant seat next to her, remaining silent. The duo craved death for two similar reasons. Something out of their control happened and it ruined their lives. She was used and abused by her father and he had been exiled so his wife could be further pursued by a vulture of the law. And now she was dead. She killed herself because that filthy creature took advantage of her, and now his daughter was somewhere he did not know.
He cleared his throat, finally settling his gaze on Evelyn. "Want to talk about it?" He asked, gentle voice soft. He wouldn't waste time of pleasantries like 'What's your name?', or 'Are you okay?', or 'What's wrong?'. They felt wrong. He wasn't about to ask a hysteric female what her name was or if she was okay or what happened. Clearly something went down and that was all that mattered.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Sweeney vaguely enjoyed the solitude patrolling got him. It gave him time to be alone with his thoughts, but he'd been alone with his them for so long. Too long. Being locked up for years does that to one. Still, it wasn't like he particularly enjoyed the company of others. He was a fickle creature like that; it seemed to be impossible to please him. So when he stumbled upon the ebony lioness at the border, his demeanor remained utterly unchanged. He glanced at the gift basket briefly before bringing his gaze back up to the unfamiliar female. "Might I have your name and business, please?" The gentle voice coming from the rather large and intimidating-looking Maine Coon was definitely unexpected. Not paying that any mind, he calmly waited for her to answer, thought he could take an educated guess as to why she was here.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Sweeney couldn't help but gape as the female said she was the Princess. She was so... young. How could she be in such a high position of power? He furrowed his brow, a little concerned. There had to be a reason for it, he knew, but he couldn't help but a little worried. At her other words, he gave a gentle nod. "SylvanClan's been faring well. Quite a number of members were recently promoted and while activity isn't great, it's steady enough." He said, voice husky.
Then there was the leader. He pursed his lips; she was quite late. And it didn't seem to him that she was around much. Most groups with active higher ups were more, well, active. But it appeared she was eager enough to regain her activity, which was nice. Perhaps when the clan was back on its feet, he would stay for awhile. It was, after all, his job as Council Member to make sure his sister clan was doing well. "Pleasure to meet you miss." He said with a smile that more a show of teeth than anything. "Again, if you need anything at all to help better your group, SylvanClan and I would be more than happy to give assistance." He echoed.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]( pearl is that u i say flazéda all because of her now rip )
Sweeney was into fashion. Kind of. He was a barber; his job was to keep creatures looking spick and spam. He gave the best shaves and haircuts in the history of barbers. It was his calling. And because of this, he usually look very nice. Well groomed, occasionally fashioned in proper attire, et cetra. But fashion clubs weren't really his thing. Nonetheless, he found his way over, skimming through the accessories with a quirked brow. "Fashion club, mm?" He murmured.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]rip okay i'm gonna be inactive today, tomorrow, and maybe the next day! i'm helping my friend house sit aa
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Sweeney, immaculately groomed and primped to the nines, was staring into a mirror at his reflection, a razor in his grip and carefully trimming any out of place furs. The barber was doing what he loved.
// mobile + rushed
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]Sweeney inspected the gifts, not really sure what he was looking for. Ideas for what he could put in the next gift basket he gave out, maybe. Or on the off chance SkyClan had put deadly poisons or something (not that he thought they would, of course). After looking over the goodies, his black eyes rested on the bigcat. "SylvanClan thanks you for your gifts." He said with a dip of his head. "Would you like anything for your troubles or trip?" He asked, brow gently furrowed.
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[fancypost bordercolor=transparent; width: 450px][justify][font=georgia]He was furious.
Someone found out. They knew. They recognized him for what he was -- no, who he was. He remembered Pirelli uttering Benjamin Barker, but past that, it was all a flash. Memories blurring together, words passing too quick for him to remember. But everything was slowly starting to fall into place. He was in no-man's land now -- good. He didn't want to be anywhere near SylvanClan now. But he wasn't alone. No, in his claws was the lifeless form of the Italian-impersonating Pirelli. Blunt force trauma to the head and a slit throat -- overkill, maybe, but he didn't care. He just needed to kill that son of a bitch before he revealed his secret. Still shaking with untapped fury, he took a seat, limbs weak. What was he going to do with godforsaken body?
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