mental link; goodnight sweet fuckboy

[sistershoggoth]

[ Nyx Ulric slipping from her grasp is like a sun blinking out, her skyline gone suddenly dark, her world gone suddenly cold. It knifes through her, and after a moment of shocked, numb, silence: she starts the vibrate. An earthquake of anger and pain, electricity crackling off of her as her thoughts explode outward.

To call the noise echoing out of her any kind of language would be a gross exaggeration, it is merely a series of ocean's deep lamentations, reverberating throughout the immensity of her. Up from the magma at her core, through the cavernous, lightless space that is her consciousness beyond the shell of She. ]

( Fucking--W͙͇͕̠͈̅ͭi̺̟̩̼͙̮̞̎ͮ̉ͪ̆ͨ͟ț̰̙͌͡h̢̯̹̃ͮ̈́o̩̼̟͚͍̾̔̃͆u͆̊ͤ̾̏t͕͎̞̳̙̙͔̓ͫ̒ ͔͋̐̿̓̊ͩ͛l̮̝̘̼ͩ́i͕̰̠ͦ̐͢g̘̬̺̜̓h̲͖͇̜͇͓͓̊̒͛t͈͉͈̹̫͖ͤ̔͒̍͊ ̠̤̫̄̈́ͯͣͦw͙̺̯̰̔͆̊͗̐̊̍i̻̽̋t͐̓̀̉̿ͮ͐ḧ̰̲̲̼́̒ͥͪ̋ͯ̈͜o̩ͮut̐ͦ̂ͭ̈͘ ̰̝̪̹̩͔̱̃͛͌͋̈́̀h̴̝ͯ̎ͥͯḛ̪̤̫͚ͅͅa̱̦̩͔̺̪ͪ͊̓͗̊ͅtͬ͛̓͌̇̓͜ Son of a cunt-fucking maggot-- S̲̜͈̜̲u̱f̨̥̥̳͍͖̝͈f̵͇̪̼̝͎e̡͕̫̯r҉͕̪͎̹͎ Don't you dare leave me with this, L͖͍̝̠̝͎̾͛ͤo͉̘̖͚͉̳͋̎̍̂ͅś̝ṥ̤̗̊ͤ͗̑͘ you worthless-- Fuck. C̢̩̝̳̫͖̗̆o̖̰͍̱ͨ̃͡m̴͍̫̤̰͓͓̠̋͂͊ͮ̑̆̚ë͖̟̩͙̻̦̬́̆̽ ̬̯̓̅ͮ̽͑b͖̣̒͌͂ͣ͘ả̶͖̮̂̔̂̓̍̒ͅc̝͍̼̩̻̒k̮̤̪̺̋̓̓̈́-- Don't come back, don't come-- A̴̪̯̭̯͓ͦ̾͋̍̔̾̚b̜͘s͗͋ͤͫ͊̀ơ̙̙͔͚̼̹ͦͨ̓̉r̸ͥ̐͛̿̌ͨb̻̥͇̝̊̀̈ͪͭ ̨̲̥́ͭͣͫt̙ͦͩ̏h͎ͬ̚ẽ̱͉͕̥̮̂ͅ ̇̉͗͗bͥ̅͋ͧ̎̂͟o͙ͤͥ̈ͤͣn̰̮͙͓̥͈̞ͩ̍̓͂͋̓e̶̻̋̀͛s̻͔̭̜̽ͨͅ. Fuck.
Fuck fuck-- )

[ Dripping colors and fury, a base shaken. ]

( Nyx. Ņ̘̩͖̙̪͓̔ͮ͋ͤͣͮy̶͎͑̾́ͪ̾x̦̹̳̱ͮ́̋̿̆̃̀͘. Nyx. )

[ ...It takes its time, but eventually her wounded presence slithers off, a poisonous trail of brack and blood in its wake. ]



[ Somewhere in the physical world, she shows little of her internal distress. Still as stone in her robes staring out into the distance, jaw grit, fists clenched. ]

Comments

[somnifacient]

[He doesn't know how to deal with the words she's throwing at him, hot with frustration and bilious drunkenness. Already his head is full of too much, struggling to get to his feet, and her chastising is the same as throwing knives at him when he hasn't the hands to catch them. They cut and sting, then fall by the wayside, because what else is he supposed to do?

It's a piteous attempt at a reply, what he says next. Swaying on his own feet, as if he were trying to balance on water.]

It's a two-way street, Annie. I should've... known better.

[Known better than to have given into this blasted sorrow so easily, to have been the trigger for something that Annie didn't need to deal with. He's made it worse and he feels awful about it, and that's before he feels the swirling of her presence still caught in his own mind.]

No, I'm- I'm leaving.

[Watch as he makes a sorry attempt to grasp at his own hood, discarded on the floor nearby, so he can get some night air. How he's going to manage to even put it on properly is a mystery, but he'll figure it out, one painfully long second at a time. Stubborn as always.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ She makes a strangled, angry noise at him, ducking down and snatching up someone's pillow before chucking it at Noctis. His tears are on her face now, dark brown eyes wet, face flushed. ]

Fine! Whatever. Get the fuck out. Eat shit, I don't care.

[somnifacient]

[The pillow hits his arm, bouncing off uselessly and landing at his feet. Fingers fumbling with his hood, trying to remember how to get the blasted thing on. Trying to scrounge up remnants of his focus feels like an impossible task, but he manages. Somehow. It obscures his face when he slides it on, and that's all that matters, it'll do, and he just needs to leave.

The night, the moon, the space afforded by the outdoors, it'll clear his head. Calm them both down, maybe. He'll have to check on her later, but all he wants to do is just leave, like she tells him to.

So he does, wordlessly. Exiting the tent, met with the dark again.]