One Foot on the Ledge (Evony)
Aug 16, 2013 22:38:00 GMT -5
Post by Lucy Serrano-Blaise on Aug 16, 2013 22:38:00 GMT -5
Anger was a blinding drug, forced against her lips by some twisted turn of fate. Lucy's potent strain was uncomfortable for most, to say the least. She was used to it. She often chose to succumb to it - but it was never really a choice. When she was swallowed up by the feeling, it encompassed her. And she became destructive.
So she was destructive. And she had been for over a day now.
Evony was a master of avoidance. Lucy used to find it funny; useful. Now it was just annoying. Frustratingly so. Because she was impossible to pin down, and any attempt to do so left her with nothing but empty hands and a weighted amount of pressure on her shoulders. It was beginning to be something she couldn't handle on her own, but who was she going to turn to for help when it came to something like this? If she had a little more tact in her steps, she might have been able to settle her down and approach things with a cool head. But Evony likely knew she was angry. And so she was running.
Which in turn made everything worse. Time rarely healed aggression.
But this time she got word of Evony's presence in her own room - from Lyra, no less. The younger girl's tactile ability solidified Lucy's reasoning for leaving her room - leaving the blaring repeated Janelle Monae mix and the hours of online shooters - and venturing out to room four-oh-three. With the common room door unlocked, she launched herself into it without so much as a second to snicker at the paint trails left around the room.
Anger; a blinding drug.
"Hey!" She shouted, hitting her fist against the door a few times; "I know you're in there. Don't you fucking run from me!"
So she was destructive. And she had been for over a day now.
Evony was a master of avoidance. Lucy used to find it funny; useful. Now it was just annoying. Frustratingly so. Because she was impossible to pin down, and any attempt to do so left her with nothing but empty hands and a weighted amount of pressure on her shoulders. It was beginning to be something she couldn't handle on her own, but who was she going to turn to for help when it came to something like this? If she had a little more tact in her steps, she might have been able to settle her down and approach things with a cool head. But Evony likely knew she was angry. And so she was running.
Which in turn made everything worse. Time rarely healed aggression.
But this time she got word of Evony's presence in her own room - from Lyra, no less. The younger girl's tactile ability solidified Lucy's reasoning for leaving her room - leaving the blaring repeated Janelle Monae mix and the hours of online shooters - and venturing out to room four-oh-three. With the common room door unlocked, she launched herself into it without so much as a second to snicker at the paint trails left around the room.
Anger; a blinding drug.
"Hey!" She shouted, hitting her fist against the door a few times; "I know you're in there. Don't you fucking run from me!"