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I'm sorry that I let you down, (M, TW)
IP: 66.26.113.199



Sebastion
All these voices in my head get loud.


All the warnings: Cursing, Post contains description of murder, alcohol abuse, depression, and auditory hallucinations.

Name: Sebastion
Biological Sex: Male
Hair Color: Black with a single natural gray streak in the front.
Eye Color: Light gray-blue
Skin Tone: Olive complexion
Wing Appearance:Flying Gurnard (it's a fish, but it has pretty "wings")
Age: 24 years old
Occuptation: Was a naval officer under Arthur
Sexual & Romantic: Heterosexual
Physical & Neuro: Auditory Hallucinations & Alcoholism
Player Name: Renny


Sample Post (With background info):

It's too damn loud in this bar. Every single happy and hopeful laugh pierces my brain, the sounds of carefree joy like a thousand tiny needles pricking at my soul. I can feel my hand tighten around the glass as I bring it to my lips, downing the rest of the amber drink. The bitter warmth runs down my throat, a sorry attempt at quelling the demons within. I toss a gaze to the bartender, dead eyes giving a blank stare as I hold up my glass to ask for another round of whiskey. I would say that the drink reminded me of myself, for I am bitter and my soul is dark, but I cannot say that I am warm any longer. My heart has grown cold, my soul at first a blizzard of emotion that has been reduced to a void of icy emptiness.

I didn't used to be this way. I was once like the people who surround me in this bar. Full of life, love, and simple happiness. Full of naiveity. Anya was my world, my entire soul. When I lost her and my sweet Kiya, I lost myself to the amber chains of alcohol. I can never get the images and the memories of that day out of my mind.

Daddy, help me...The whisper is a cry for help against my ear, my foot slipping from the stool in surprise. Quickly, gray-blues dart around the bar, searching for the head full of curls even though I know I won't find it. If only I could get the voices to stop, if only I could let go. I shake my head in response to my own suggestion, knowing all too well that I will never let go of my guilt and the sorrow. The voices that I hear day in and day out are the only time I will ever be close to them again. The only time I will ever hear or feel them. Yet, I can't function all the time if I sit here chasing voices of ghosts. Sometimes, I need the silence, as hard as it is to hide from my loves. The only thing that can keep them and the darkest memories at bay is this nectar of the demons. And right in this moment, I know I haven't had enough of it, because I can still remember that day....that fucking day where my entire fucking world imploded upon itself.

Everything about the day is etched deep into my soul.The sound of the waves crashing upon the sides of the boat, the smell of the salt in the air, the stillness of the men as we were all told the news about Arthur. My heart stopped when I heard the news. The kind man whom we had all called King was dead. Rumors swirled that it was the usurper, Mordred who had taken control, who had killed Arthur. Still others claimed that it was the King's son, Tris, mad with the desire for power. I knew deep down that it couldn't be the young man. I had worked with him, trained him even, for some time on the ship when his father had sent him our way. We set off for Shaman as quickly as we could. Once we had docked, the men scattered like roaches running from the light, everyone off to find their families and loved ones.

I had run as fast as I could to the small cabin I shared with my wife and our little girl. Our own little piece of happiness that we planned to fill with little ones who would love us as we grew into old age. A place founded on young love and expanded by genuine joy and companionship. A place meant to be untainted by the darkness of the world. We had so much planned for our lives, so much planned for our future. Now, it was gone. Everything was gone.

I knew as soon as I walked through the dark doorway that something was horribly wrong. Instead of being met with little arms wrapped around my legs and warm lips instantly pressed against mine with a passionate longing, I was met with complete and utter silence. In that moment, I knew that the world as I knew it was lost. I walked with careful steps up the stairs towards the bedroom, each dull thud of boots upon the stairs only echoing in the empty house. With each step rose the sense of dread and fear that was beginning to eat me alive when I reached the bedroom door. My hands trembled as I reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it in slipping hands.

The blood...there was so much blood. The walls were literally coated with red as though someone had taken their hands and painted them. My heart stopped beating the moment my eyes finally took in the bed. Anya, drained of blood, cut into pieces and scattered about like a ritual sacrifice on the white comforter that was now a dark blood red. The only sign of Kiya, my sweet baby daughter, was her little onsie, soaked in blood and torn to shreds, delicately placed near Anya's hands. I remember sinking to my knees, the world spinning in circles before everything became black.

Sebastion....why did you let us die? Why did you leave me to this fate? This time the voice comes from my other side, so real that I can almost feel her breath upon my neck. "I didn't leave you, Anya! I'm sorry, so sorry!" The words come rushing from my lips before I can stop them my eyes stinging from the tears that threaten to come. I try and get up from the chair, stumbling with the effort, and the freshly filled glass of whiskey falls from my hand shattering on the floor. The sound of the glass knocks me back to the present and I look around as the bar grows silent, the bartender giving me a deadpan glare that tells me all I need to know. I quickly slap the money on the table, before turning on uneasy legs and stumbling past the door. I get no father than the edge of the woods before I sink down to my knees, unable to go on in the moment. "I didn't leave you. I love you both." The tears flow freely now, the amber drink having started it's work but not yet finished it. I haven't had enough to drown them out, only enough to make them stronger. I was cut apart. I was alone. Why weren't you there? Daddy, you didn't help me. I cried for you.

The screams that come pouring from my lips can't drown out the voices. I can only hope that sleep comes soon, or that I can find more whiskey to quiet them.


image by nick nice at unsplash.com


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