I built the growl in the voice I fear [OPEN--INCOMPLETE]
Characters: Phobos (open to anyone, really, but mostly those under his curse :3).
Date/Time: 15th afternoon--evening.
Location: Anywhere--he's not paying attention to where he is.
Rating: PG-13 because it's Phobos and I like to be careful?
Warnings: ... Phobos.
Summary: The Fear God is bored of just listening to people scream and panic, etc. and has decided to try to stir things up. He doesn't know what his mun knows.
It wasn't enough.
It wasn't enough to sit in his apartment, outside of the apartment, to walk along the hall--following that seam, that fault-line where the boundaries of multiple source of Fear met and overlapped. It was convenient that this seemed to have manifested on its own (people were blaming Cronus, but Phobos did not see what there was to blame, exactly) and deeply fascinating the way they seemed to make each other worse. He hadn't even lifted a finger toward it.
Inhale... Exhale... Deep breaths--not the panicked, shallow breaths that came with the anticipation of Fear and yet another burst of adrenaline. He gave odd attention to the way his ribcage seemed to pull back as he breathed out, trying to visualise how that would look stripped of its trimmings... just the skeleton.
There was not childish humming of tuneless songs, no theatrics. He hadn't even needed to take his blood pressure pill this morning, under the reasoning that, actually, he was currently so calm it may well be dangerous. Phobos could be an adult like anyone else when he wanted to--it just didn't usually have the right effect.
Terrified people moved all around the complex. A fleeting thought begged to know if they would feel any better in the knowledge that he knew where they all were. Not that he could provide room numbers--that was both silly and unnecessary.
"Mm..." Bored of wandering, Phobos leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it, lazing on the floor. It wasn't any fun if they just hid. What was the point in that? "Come out and play..." Or he would be forced to go after them.
Date/Time: 15th afternoon--evening.
Location: Anywhere--he's not paying attention to where he is.
Rating: PG-13 because it's Phobos and I like to be careful?
Warnings: ... Phobos.
Summary: The Fear God is bored of just listening to people scream and panic, etc. and has decided to try to stir things up. He doesn't know what his mun knows.
It wasn't enough.
It wasn't enough to sit in his apartment, outside of the apartment, to walk along the hall--following that seam, that fault-line where the boundaries of multiple source of Fear met and overlapped. It was convenient that this seemed to have manifested on its own (people were blaming Cronus, but Phobos did not see what there was to blame, exactly) and deeply fascinating the way they seemed to make each other worse. He hadn't even lifted a finger toward it.
Inhale... Exhale... Deep breaths--not the panicked, shallow breaths that came with the anticipation of Fear and yet another burst of adrenaline. He gave odd attention to the way his ribcage seemed to pull back as he breathed out, trying to visualise how that would look stripped of its trimmings... just the skeleton.
There was not childish humming of tuneless songs, no theatrics. He hadn't even needed to take his blood pressure pill this morning, under the reasoning that, actually, he was currently so calm it may well be dangerous. Phobos could be an adult like anyone else when he wanted to--it just didn't usually have the right effect.
Terrified people moved all around the complex. A fleeting thought begged to know if they would feel any better in the knowledge that he knew where they all were. Not that he could provide room numbers--that was both silly and unnecessary.
"Mm..." Bored of wandering, Phobos leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it, lazing on the floor. It wasn't any fun if they just hid. What was the point in that? "Come out and play..." Or he would be forced to go after them.