Who: Miata and open!
When: Shortly after her little...scream call.
Where:Allll around the city
Format: Paragraph, action, etc, whatever you're most comfortable with. Threadjacking is also totally allowed for this log.
What: Miata has not taken to being a Scorched, or being in a strange place well. So she finally snaps.
Warnings: Violence, angst, enough drama to choke a duck.
She didn't know what to do anymore. There were warriors. Awakened. People. So many people. So many humans. They didn't know what she was, or was supposed to be. Some of them wanted to put her in a box, and throw away the key. She was this, she was that.
They wanted her to be human, didn't they? Everyone. All of them. She could not help but be who she was. Miata didn't know what it was to please, or fit in anymore.
So she lashed out.
There was still glass in her hair. She could hear it sometimes when she ran-and felt it loosen when she paused, overcome with emotional upheavel, unsure of what she was supposed to do anymore.
Clarice didn't need her, did she? No one did. If she died from anything...if it was disease, straving, dying...what would come? She didn't know anymore.
In one of the many pauses where she stood, almost catatonic, she saw the lighthouse's light sway over the city. For some reason, she wanted to smash it. It needed to die. Everything, all the things...she wanted it to die. It took a few moments, but she found the strength again to move her feet, to run. Maybe she would find something or someone. Maybe she could break them into pieces.