[open] i've got nothing, to gain, to lose

[redotiertwo]

Who: Davesprite and you
When: November 4th-5th
Where: Mostly various areas of the Far Shore
What: Davesprite's regained memories of another person...and it's significantly less pleasant than last time.
Warnings: Likely mentions and recollections of abuse (physical and psychological), blood/minor gore due to one of the regained memories, other warnings will be added as needed.

[A: Early November 4th, surrounds of Neith's Temple]

[Davesprite's had it happen before, the "nightmares" that turn out to be something all too real. A conversation, or a person, or finding out how he was created from the human he knew he once was. Upsetting and offputting a lot of the time, but not usually anything he can't handle.

This time, though, he bolts out of his nest like his tail is on fire with the memory of a body stabbed into the ground and the agony of an amputated wing and a slashed-apart gut fresh on his mind, and with a pile of further trauma he doesn't even want to think about starting to pick through jostling behind it.]

What the fu-- [He can't even get that out, because his room feels too enclosed with all of this bearing down on him, and the fresh memories of what home and enclosure had meant to him back when he was a human. Spinning in mid-air, he darts out through his window, flying as fast as he can without outright employing flashstep.

He's so concerned with getting away from it that he's not really paying attention when a forested area comes up in his way, and by the time he turns around, the flow of his wings has already been disrupted by branches.

The result is a few consecutive thumps against branches as he drops down the tree, managing to drag himself up on the last branch before he hits the ground by wrapping his ghostlike tail around it and using his wings to shift his center of gravity. He doesn't really feel like coming out right now, though, so there's a large pair of hunched wings and the tip of a ghostly tail visible clinging to the lowest branch of this tree now.]

--

[B: November 5th, the park in Northwest District]

[Davesprite's still not really feeling like spending too much time around the temple right now, the expectation blades are going to come flying out of the microwave or something along those lines a little too strong. So he's laid out in the Northwest District park, letting a couple of the neighbourhood crow spirits pick through his feathers with meticulous attention.

He looks pretty exhausted, but it's a nice enough feeling, and as usual, he feels a joke coming on.]

Yeah, that's right, step on my fucking cor--

[He pauses halfway through the last word, another corpse entirely coming up in his mind's eye, and sits up abruptly enough that all the spirits flap away, looking somewhat offended. It's never really been an issue for him before to joke about things that have struck deep, but...this time, maybe, he needs to put some more space in.

He reaches beneath his shades to rub at his eyes.] Yeah, okay, you know what, fuck this entirely. [He swings backwards, putting a hand out in front of him as he does.] Maybe I should just--

[This time, the interruption isn't his own, but the result of that hand that went out in front of him, because as soon as his mood got more vehement, a thin orange beam had shot out and singed a branch off a nearby tree.]

Alright, what the fuck, this is like the last time I need to be unlocking a new skill tree.

--

[C: Wildcard]

[[Davesprite is likely to be generally Around the Far Shore quite a lot during these days, since he doesn't really want to go back to the temple much, so hit me up at reviseleviathan for anything specific!]]