[Flashback] The Darkside of pain (Typhos)

[Druna]

46th night of Summer, 510 A.V. Time 3 Bells Druna walked in the summer snow, her dark figure hunched. Her footsteps staggered falling heavily on the icy streets of Avanthal. The nights darkness did nothing to comfort her, nor did the bottle she gripped tightly in her left hand. She lift the bottle to her lips and took several sips of the spirit. The amber liquid searing her throat as it passed into her empty stomach. Though it possessed no comfort, it did possess a burn, pain, proof that she could still feel. Something that she needed to remember. I'm still alive. it told her Yes you are, but he is not her mind answered. Her dark eyes flashed yellow as she threw the bottle across the street, a high pitched siren echoed in the night. It was full of pain and agony, Druna doubled over grabbing her stomach. The sound covering the shattering of the bottle, the liquid melting the snow. She hoped that whatever made the sound would come for her, finish her off. What was the point of surviving when the only thing she ever loved was ripped away from her grip? that sound was you She became disgusted with herself. Now a feeling of emptiness and disgust, besides the burn, that now settled in her gut. She desired to focus on the burn, now that was slowly going away. She cursed herself for throwing the bottle, now how was she supposed to feel again. Replace the bottle. her slow mind said, she frowned. She could go back to the barracks, there was meed there. But the barracks held memories of him, she couldn't go back there. Venturing out at night was when noone could see her soiled clothes and unkempt appearance. If she went back now she ran the chance of being spotted, she would be locked away, or given a bath. Both she didn't want. Taking a deep breath, she slid down a side of a merchants booth. Still gripping her stomach, trying to hold on to the pain that was slowly slipping away. Pain slowly boiled to a rage. Her yellow eyes turning black. "Damn you Loucius"

[Tythos Everstorm]

Typhos had come to a conclusion that the frost of the North was drastically different from the winter peeked mountain tops near Sultros. The chill of cold stones were nothing compared to the cut of freezing wind like daggers in his lungs. It was dangerous to get used to the cold temperature against his skin, biting into his flesh as it provided a chilling sting. He had learned that he could live with the tingle of cold, or withstand the bites of frost, though once it faded to nothing meant something had been frozen solid. Typhos pulled his wool cloak closer around him as he wore his normal clothing underneath. His light-blue Isurian skin starting to become less bitten by the bitter wind. The main source of his warmth coming from the thick cured hunters hide which was wrapped around his body. It was a thick hide as if medium armor that which mimicked a black bear and its fur providing insulation. He wore it over the top of his hooded wool cloak with the bears head that was connected to the hide on top of his head like a helmet. Underneath it all was his backpack which made it seem as if he had a hump-back though it didn’t matter since he was warm. He trudged through the snow, with a pleasant smirk on his face despite the cold. The visit to Avanthal was turning out to be a pleasant experience since his arrival back around mid Spring. The tail end of his thick black hide swaying behind each of his steps. With no reason to stay indoor performing several more sets off sit-up’s or push-ups he followed rumors about the Kaliara Observation Deck of the Skyglow Hold and wished to see it for himself. Wanderlust, meandering, and talking with others had thrown him off course from his intended destination and apparently right into the path of a flying bottle. The whistling of the glass though the air was what first caught his attention. It was quite the site, watching an object nearly two feet away flying at his face. He thought to himself ‘I can dodge this’ with all his heart and soul not wanting to deal with any impending humiliation that came with getting hit in the face. In that split second he tilted his body to the right with all the speed he could muster. Shifting to his side as if he were avoiding the most powerful takedown from an enemy wrestler he could ever receive. "WHAT THE PETCH!" He exclaimed to himself after turning to look into the direction of the Bottle thrower across the street. In the distance he could see a crazy screaming women. Without a second thought he raced over to her leaving his low boot prints in the snow as he stood in front of her. "AEY! You 'Vagik' Lassie! You almost hit me with that bottle! Clearly almost being hit in the face had knocked the edge off of some of his subtly until after he had yelled at her. She appeared to be a pitiful young , possibly pregnant since she was holding her stomach, women who was going though some type of problem with a man named Loucius. "What is wrong with you?" His question reiterated 'Why did she throw that at him' and also 'Do you need help?'. The second of the two meanings being hidden under a heavily irritated tone of voice. oocTaken from miz swears Vagik - (Common language) noun, infers a person with especially foul hygiene.

[Druna]

Druna heard the angry footsteps that sloshed through the ice and the snow, as they came closer; she found it had a voice. The words that fell from the annoyed feet, did little to help the state of mind of the bear. Not hearing its words, only the tone of its voice at first. She growled, it sounded human, but held an animistic anger. Looking up, her dark eyes fell on a small stature man. Glaring, she tried her best to steady her festering disgust and rage. The spirits making it hard for her to focus on details of this him, but one thing she did pick up on was the heat of his annoyance. In return, his annoyance fueled her own. The last of his words fell on her, the small seemly innocent question, pushing her emotions to the surface. Surly he was mocking her. “What does it matter to you?” her voice was low, the words forming slowly, “Small man, come to mock the one who has nothing left?” her train of thought turning darker “Come to see the fall of me!?” Spit fell from her mouth as she yelled. Her eyes flashed yellow as the anger burst to the fore front; she contained herself by only a thread. The animal willed Druna to stand, the hand that held her stomach dropping. With it her wall that been holding her rage at bay. Baring her teeth, she looked down at the man, she wavered a bit from the drink. Her body was screaming for an outlet, to shift and mull the man that stood in front of her, only the small bit burning in the pit of her stomach holding her limbs at bay. He is not who you are mad at. He is not who took him out of your life. Steady yourself. the remaining rational part of her mind screamed. She could feel the darker emotions stirring. She needed this man to leave before she did something she would regret. “Go away. Petching fool.” Druna tried to warn the man, for she was hardly in control. She was in despite need of someone to talk her from the ledge. For is she would fall, the landing could turn devastating.