(no subject)
Despite Ishiah's claims that he'd given the island a thorough once over in the wake of Robin's disappearance, I'd clung fast to denial and conducted my own meticulous search. A search that, after days tromping through the brush, predictably turned up absolutely nothing but the inability to further ignore the reality of the situation: Robin was gone. Not just fucked off because he was afraid of commitment or needed to get laid or was pissed about someone ruining his silk shirt, gone for good.
For weeks since then, I'd been operating at a low simmer. I'd never liked this place, but now, oh now, I absolutely fucking loathed it. Island gods, magic powers, fucking fairies-I didn't give a shit who was to blame, but now it was well and truly personal. There was only so much I could do, cut off from the world and stuck on this bitch of a rock, but enough was enough.
Need searing through me, I'd come to a breaking point. Without a word even to Niko, I geared up and stalked all the way to dinosaur territory.
I needed to kill something before I killed someone.
The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon when I reappeared in camp. I had to look like I'd come from a war, slicked from head to toe in half-dried blood with my shirt ripped nearly off. With me I dragged a mid-sized sabre-toothed cat by one of its long-clawed feet, its throat torn out and eyes long gone glassy with death. Maybe two hundred pounds, its head rhythmically thumped along the boardwalk as it left a dingy, bloody swath in the snow behind me.
There had been another, but that one I'd left back in the forest with a hole in its head.
I felt better.
[OOC: Strange though it may seem, it is actually not a horrible time to meet him. Not comparatively, at least; he's always kind of a surly bastard. Open to new threads through Friday.]
For weeks since then, I'd been operating at a low simmer. I'd never liked this place, but now, oh now, I absolutely fucking loathed it. Island gods, magic powers, fucking fairies-I didn't give a shit who was to blame, but now it was well and truly personal. There was only so much I could do, cut off from the world and stuck on this bitch of a rock, but enough was enough.
Need searing through me, I'd come to a breaking point. Without a word even to Niko, I geared up and stalked all the way to dinosaur territory.
I needed to kill something before I killed someone.
The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon when I reappeared in camp. I had to look like I'd come from a war, slicked from head to toe in half-dried blood with my shirt ripped nearly off. With me I dragged a mid-sized sabre-toothed cat by one of its long-clawed feet, its throat torn out and eyes long gone glassy with death. Maybe two hundred pounds, its head rhythmically thumped along the boardwalk as it left a dingy, bloody swath in the snow behind me.
There had been another, but that one I'd left back in the forest with a hole in its head.
I felt better.
[OOC: Strange though it may seem, it is actually not a horrible time to meet him. Not comparatively, at least; he's always kind of a surly bastard. Open to new threads through Friday.]