Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
27.Aug.12, 04:25 AM
Ah, that old demon. Talian exhaled subtly, his soft eyes closing as he thought back on that day that seemed so long ago. Had it really been nearly a while turn since he took that leap into the unknown?
He unconsciously drew his hands in front of him and wrung them nervously. He hated thinking about that day. He could still remember the confused, disillusioned feelings that filled his mind as he closed his office door behind him and put the drink to his lips. It felt so nice and warm at first, flavored with his favorite spices and heated just to his liking. It carried an uncomfortable aftertaste, but that was a small price to pay for slipping away so easily.
That's what he'd thought, at least. What felt like a needed and justified escape quickly turned into a nightmare. He shuddered, then quickly cut his tawny eyes back towards the other young man.
He recognized the sharp shift in mannerism. The other young man was troubled at the very least, which was understandable after what he'd just endured. The shift was troubling, though. The beginning signs of unhealthy repression, perhaps? Tal's medical curiosity (and concern) was sparked, but for now his focus was clouded for formulating an answer to the question.
He wordlessly took Sanderon's wrists and started tending to them, not even responding to the cruel words and anger that had been thrust his way. He just worked, his expression softening to a state of transparent melancholy as he continued to meditate on that fateful decision.
"I've thought about that a lot since it happened," he said at length. Talian often thought about his near-suicide, but he never actually talked about it. No one he knew wanted to talk about it. They all wanted it repressed, locked away forever. Talian knew better, though. He couldn't repress something like that. He carried it with him, much as he carried the newest incident with him. It was part of him now.
For a while, everyone around him had whispered about it. Everyone knew. Everyone talked, just not to him. It had been a long time now since he'd even heard the whispers, though. Or had it really been that long? Did it just feel like a long time?
Talian inhaled softly. His movement became stiff, his breathing uncomfortable. His eyes glimmered with profound sadness for a moment before he let out a long breath, reminding himself to relax. His calmness returned, but it came with a tattered spirit.
"I suppose you could say that, though. Many people told me they loved me before I did it, but I didn't believe them until after." His eyes widened with mellow intensity. "...But there's one thing about it that I wish I'd seen before..."
He peeled his gloves off.
"Had I succeeded...I would have been defeated. Utterly. This place would have won, and these people would have succeeded in destroying me." He spoke with quiet resolve, restrained and thoughtful. He sank back into his quiet sadness and his thoughtfulness, his expression almost distant as he faded back to that night.
"People can say what they want about me trying," Talian finally whispered, "But I'm proud of myself for making it."
He unconsciously drew his hands in front of him and wrung them nervously. He hated thinking about that day. He could still remember the confused, disillusioned feelings that filled his mind as he closed his office door behind him and put the drink to his lips. It felt so nice and warm at first, flavored with his favorite spices and heated just to his liking. It carried an uncomfortable aftertaste, but that was a small price to pay for slipping away so easily.
That's what he'd thought, at least. What felt like a needed and justified escape quickly turned into a nightmare. He shuddered, then quickly cut his tawny eyes back towards the other young man.
He recognized the sharp shift in mannerism. The other young man was troubled at the very least, which was understandable after what he'd just endured. The shift was troubling, though. The beginning signs of unhealthy repression, perhaps? Tal's medical curiosity (and concern) was sparked, but for now his focus was clouded for formulating an answer to the question.
He wordlessly took Sanderon's wrists and started tending to them, not even responding to the cruel words and anger that had been thrust his way. He just worked, his expression softening to a state of transparent melancholy as he continued to meditate on that fateful decision.
"I've thought about that a lot since it happened," he said at length. Talian often thought about his near-suicide, but he never actually talked about it. No one he knew wanted to talk about it. They all wanted it repressed, locked away forever. Talian knew better, though. He couldn't repress something like that. He carried it with him, much as he carried the newest incident with him. It was part of him now.
For a while, everyone around him had whispered about it. Everyone knew. Everyone talked, just not to him. It had been a long time now since he'd even heard the whispers, though. Or had it really been that long? Did it just feel like a long time?
Talian inhaled softly. His movement became stiff, his breathing uncomfortable. His eyes glimmered with profound sadness for a moment before he let out a long breath, reminding himself to relax. His calmness returned, but it came with a tattered spirit.
"I suppose you could say that, though. Many people told me they loved me before I did it, but I didn't believe them until after." His eyes widened with mellow intensity. "...But there's one thing about it that I wish I'd seen before..."
He peeled his gloves off.
"Had I succeeded...I would have been defeated. Utterly. This place would have won, and these people would have succeeded in destroying me." He spoke with quiet resolve, restrained and thoughtful. He sank back into his quiet sadness and his thoughtfulness, his expression almost distant as he faded back to that night.
"People can say what they want about me trying," Talian finally whispered, "But I'm proud of myself for making it."
