Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Jan 16, 2007 23:35:51 GMT
Calla sincerely wished that she was as perfect as Trent seemed to think she was and, while she acted like she was when around humans, she knew that she wasn’t. She never had been and she never would be, but at least she had Trent. That was more than enough. With Trent, she was a good person, something that she had never been before. Nuzzling the side of his neck gently, Calla was more than ready to take off on listing all of the qualities of Trent’s that she loved so much. While she knew that no one else would see him as perfect, no one else matter. He was perfect to her and Heaven have mercy on anyone who said anything else in Calla’s presence.
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Jan 19, 2007 17:55:16 GMT
There was really only one thing that mattered to Trent and that was Calla. He would give up his violin for her without a second’s hesitation, would walk through fire and silver if he thought it would give her even a second more of time on this earth and he wasn’t ashamed of feeling that way. She was the only positive thing in his life, the only thing that was all good.
Not like the voices or the demons. Not even like his violin, which while he loved was sometimes a negative aspect. The violin could be both a blessing and a curse; music pulling at his soul and ripping him apart until he was nothing but the music, twisting and turning inside.
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Jan 29, 2007 20:43:23 GMT
Out of everything on the planet that she had ever known, did know or ever would know, nothing would ever compare to Trent. It was a simple fact and one that she had learned quickly, knowing that she would never forget or deny it. He was, quite simply, the reason she bothered with anything. He was, quite simply, her world now and she would protect him with everything she had in her. Losing Trent wasn’t an option. She would die an infinite number of times over before she would let an outsider hurt him again. She would also protect Trent from himself if she could, but that was harder than handling outsiders. Even so, she did her best and would continue to do so. How could she do any less?
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Feb 1, 2007 18:13:38 GMT
Trent sighed softly and closed his eyes. Already he could feel the cool logic and almost soberness that was so rare in him nowadays start to slip away, confusion replacing it. Normally, the male werewolf would have tried to fight the inevitable, wanting to remain ‘right’ for just a few more seconds but tonight he just couldn’t seem to summon the energy to do so.
“I’m tired,” he told Calla at last, words soft and small, still leaning into her embrace. For once though, he just meant he was tired, in the body sense instead of tired in mind. Even though his mind was rapidly being lost to the fog again, Trent actually felt okay. “Sleep now?” he asked her hopefully.
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Feb 1, 2007 20:59:06 GMT
At Trent's question, Calla kissed his cheek gently and smoothed back his hair. "Yes, we can sleep now." There were very few things Calla would ever deny Trent- and those were only for his safety- so naturally, if he wanted to go to sleep now, then that was just what they were going to do. "I'm going to make sure the apartment is all locked up and then I'll be right back, okay?"
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Feb 5, 2007 2:48:18 GMT
He smiled at the kiss, feeling surprisingly at peace despite the noise and ghosts that had once again taken up residence in his brain. Trent only hoped that sleep would bring its promised oblivion and not the nightmares that so often plagued his wakening and dreaming hours. Sleep was supposed to be a reprieve, with Calla curled up against him, her scent filling him and making him as whole as he was likely to get.
Trent nodded as Calla left and turned to the bed, slowly sitting down on it and stroking lightly at the soft covers, feeling them skim under the pads of his feelings. “All silky soft, ideas falling off. Water off a ducks back. Nothing sticks, nothing matters. Brain jam, silky soft and nothing stick. Like… strawberry ice cream. My brain is like a bed.”
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Feb 5, 2007 3:12:33 GMT
Calla's check of the apartment door and the windows was a quick one and she switched off the lights as she went. After that, it was a quick stop at the bathroom to brush her teeth and put her robe on its hook on the back of the door before rejoining Trent in the bedroom, giving a stretch and stifling a yawn. She was suddenly tired and sleep sounded like an extremely good idea.
Sitting down next to Trent, she gave him another kiss on the cheek. "I didn't realize how tired I was until now." She shifted back on the bed and pulled the covers back. "If you want to get under the covers, I'll turn off the light."
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Feb 6, 2007 0:49:10 GMT
He slipped under the covers at her suggestion, feeling as if he was a Trent sandwich, with layers of softness, of his brain or ice cream covering both his front and his bad. It was a strange thought he knew, even for him to have but it amused him and he giggled softly, a breathless, light giggle that was at odds with his otherwise serious face.
Trent curled up in the bed, burring under the covers and pressing himself into the pillow with a pleased little sigh, watching and waiting for Calla to turn off the lights and join him. He always slept much better whenever he had his mate by his side.
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Feb 6, 2007 1:57:50 GMT
Getting up and moving over to the switch, she turned off the lights. It wasn't like either of them actually needed the lights on to see- they could get along perfectly fine without them, after all- but it was simply a force of habit to turn them on. It helped them blend into that much more with the city's human population. So long as they kept up human-like practices, it seemed just that much easier to blend in.
Moving back to the bed, she climbed under the covers and snuggled up against Trent, giving a soft little sigh and feeling herself relax. She kissed Trent lightly and felt her eyes slipping closed as sleep quickly overtook her. "Goodnight, Trent."
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Feb 25, 2007 11:01:01 GMT
Post-Skip
He whimpered softly in his sleep, fear clawing at him and closing off his mind, preventing the sound from being louder. In his mind he was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch, faint sounds of fear slipping out through stiff and unmoving lips. Trent couldn’t move and the thing was coming closer and closer towards him. A black shape that was almost bubbling as it moved forward. A hissing sound accompanied every step, the floor under it melting away as if the monster was made of acid.
Trent whimpered again, tears forming in his dream eyes. He didn’t know it was a dream, even though he was very clearly in a dream landscape – his mind was so broken that reality often looked like this – and for all Trent knew the beast in front of him could be anything, even his beloved Calla. Right now all he knew was that the thing was scary and that it was going to hurt him. And he couldn’t get away.
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Feb 25, 2007 16:56:11 GMT
The soft whimper woke Calla up and she immediately shifted over a bit, reaching out and stroking Trent’s hair gently as he slept. It was very rare for her to sleep through an audible sign of distress from him. Or any sign that might possibly wake her up. “Hush, love,” she whispered softly, continuing the rhythmic stroking. “It’s only a dream.” It hurt her inside to know that there was nothing that she could do to chase away the monsters that lurked within his mind, terrifying and tormenting him. All she could really do was be there and try to help him through it and, while she did that with everything she had in her, she never failed to feel guilty about it. She had had a hand in snapping his tether on reality, however unintentional it had been.
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Feb 25, 2007 17:46:20 GMT
The beast touched him and with a jolt he woke, a scream ripping out of his mouth. He was free to move again and Trent arched on the bed, another scream escaping as he fought the pain in his head. It was a physical pain and Trent didn’t know where he was, he was blind, sports of colour exploding behind his eyelids and making it impossible to see anything.
For all he knew, the demon was still there, the sharp pain in his head making it feel as if he had been stabbed right in the brain. Trent sobbed, tears leaking out behind his closed eyelids, wishing the pain would just go away. The night had been such a good one until now. It just wasn’t fair as he opened his mouth to scream again, the pain actually increasing in intensity.
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Feb 25, 2007 18:24:24 GMT
Calla started rather violently at the screaming. “Trent!” She sat up, twisting around so that she was on her knees next to him and took his face between her hands. “Trent! Calm down. I’m right here. I won’t let it hurt you.” She had learned that ‘It’s okay’ didn’t work extremely well, so she tried not to use it when he had one of his really bad episodes like this. “You’re safe.”
A lock of hair fell into her face, but she couldn’t be bothered to care enough to push it back. She let it stay for now, her only concern right now being Trent. She had to see if she could calm him down, the difficulty of which changed with every episode.
|
|
Trent
Rogue Werewolf
Violinist
Posts: 132
|
Post by Trent on Feb 27, 2007 13:45:52 GMT
He flinched at the touch on his face, eyes closed and still not registering who was really touching him. In his mind he could see demons, nothing but rotting and disfigured bodies stretched out on an endless plain and each were reaching out to him, beckoning him and wanting him to join them. To finally give up the struggle and sink beyond any hope of salvation into his own mind. Trent couldn’t do that, wouldn’t, shouldn’t.
Yet another scream bubbled up from his throat as he threw himself away from the touch, trying to put some physical distance between himself and the mental monsters. The movement was so rapid, so sudden, that he didn’t realise he had flung himself off the edge of the bed in time, falling onto the floor with out another sound, his body silently convulsing as his mind frantically tried to hold itself together, abandoning some of its control in order to keep his sanity there.
|
|
Callandra
Rogue Werewolf
Freelance Graphics Designer
Posts: 132
|
Post by Callandra on Feb 27, 2007 16:38:14 GMT
“Trent!” As soon as he fell, Calla launched herself forward, kicking the blankets away from her viciously and landing in a neat crouch next to Trent. “Come on, Trent. Get a hold of it. You can do this.” She wanted to help him. Get in his mind and undo all of the damage that had been done. Make him forget about nightmares and help chase away the monsters. That, however, meant that she would be chasing away herself as far as she was concerned. However many times Trent claimed she was an angel, Calla knew better. She was a monster. One of the monsters that had pushed him into his current fragile state.
|
|