STOP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

ind. dark!allison.

[veniialsins]

    it’s the voice which has always soothed her, sweet     & kind like the soft sound of wind chimes, but it’s been     manipulated. cracked. broken. hoarse. it scares     her. it doesn’t belong to her allison, but someone darker.

                                              more than anything, she wants to see her & to feel                                               her ;; to hold her hand, to be cocooned within her arms.                                               but all she’s granted is the anger & bitterness within                                               her voice. it causes her skin to prickle with goosebumps.

    ' i—-i don’t know, they moved away after you died     because they couldn’t stick around without you… of     course i missed you! i loved you! i didn’t get to     say goodbye, i wanted you back! ‘

                                             her words are true but the past tense is evident.                                              she’s adjusted to allison’s absence. maybe she doesn’t                                              want her back. maybe she’s moved on, like scott &                                              isaac. she doesn’t seem to want her back, does she?                                              not with her glossy hues & terrified expression.

                                 ’ ally, i—-i missed you!! ‘

[suivres-blog]

          All of that translates into Allison's brain in different waves, different measures of understanding. From, they moved away, she gets - they moved on without her, from they couldn't stick around without you, she understands they couldn't wait to be gone from this town that she's now bound to. Allison seems to have forgotten that her father has now lost everyone. That she was his last close family member, and he'll never stop hurting over the loss of his only child.                     The ghost can only remember watching on as he formed a plan to conceal her bravery. Tell the cops she was just some kid that got mugged on the street while she was out with her friends. The story of Allison, the girl who died to save her best friend is something that will never be told in the papers, thanks to him, never be told again because God forbid anyone ever mentions her damned name again! Everyone except Lydia.                                    "I haven't seen you smile in a while, Lydia."              She's ignoring the past tense, softening up (even if it is rather forced) she's got to at least gain Lydia's trust, maybe scaring her will make her close her senses -- and she's only just getting heard! Wouldn't want to dash it all away now just because she can't control her temper! Rough and bloody hands stroke over Lydia's hair, just barely getting a stray strand to move from her face before smiling through pale and cracked lips. Death has hardly been kind.                     "What was that quote you told me? --- Never frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile. Smile, Lydia." 

[suivres-blog]

( coiotesx )

      “I don’t know. I don’t really pay attention to pictures        on walls, desks or — anywhere really.” She gives her another once over, eyes flicker up and down, desperately trying to remember seeing any pictures of such brunette laying around in a house. Maybe she was lying. Maybe she shouldn’t be trusted. Should you trust people that claim to know you, yet you don’t know them?       “How about you tell me your name? That would        help, a lot. Helped me save my life? I never needed        anyone to save my life, ever.”

        "You did. Before you could walk on two feet again. Something about bear traps being everywhere and a were-coyote running around. I never got to meet you before everything went wrong, so. I guess you kinda replaced me."                    It's unfair of her to say that, deep down someplace perhaps the Allison she used to be would know that - but that Allison is buried deep under silver arrows and caked in her own blood. Now that she's back, and alive(ish) and rather-- strong, she's never going to let her morals ruin it! She's running purely on power and the need to be remembered and if that means suppressing the urge to smile and say her graces, so be it.          "Allison."

[suivres-blog]

                             i went there to save my best friend.                                ( it’s too bad nobody saved me. )

[suivres-blog]

( veniialsins )

    hearing her seems an impossibility, but she can     f e e l her. every touch leaves her panicked, glancing     behind her in a fruitless attempt to find a source.     but among the fear, there is hope in her doe eyes —     hope that it could be her, that her bargaining &     praying has mounted to something.

                                    & then she hears her.

                                              all at once ;; whispers, screams, yells, hisses within                                               the voice she once know so well combined. the voice of                                               a savior. her w a r r i o r best friend. the beautiful                                               cacophony deafens her. never has pain been so justified.

                                    oh, does she hear her. 

                 ’ allison? ‘

                "Who else?"                         Her voice surely echoes, seemingly calm but stirring beneath the stillness of her tone - a grin digging dimples into her cheeks, she's more insane than happy; manic rather than joyful. Too excited to be heard. It's the first time, isn't it. The first time in such a long time she's been recognised, noticed - it's exhilarating. The next hope she holds it to be seen, not just heard - to be visible and to lay eyes on Lydia so that she can do the same. But! Baby steps. She recognises that it must be hard for Lydia. Never quite did get that power of hers quite under control, did she? Or maybe Allison would be alive.            "It's me! Remember me? Your best friend! Allison. Good old Allison. Good dead Allison. Did you miss me? Where's my dad gone? Isaac? Why are you the only one that misses me enough to listen?"                 It should be obvious to her, really, but the huntress has become so bitter over her state of limbo that she's grown numb to the feelings of others, she just doesn't want to suffer alone.

[suivres-blog]

( coiotesx )

      the coyote eyes the girl up and down, brows furrowed,       trying to figure out where the girl suddenly showed up       from. keeping her distance she slowly shakes her head.       there was something not quite right about her. even her       scent was a bit off.               “— clearly, because i have no                                                     idea who you are.”

           "What, you haven't seen my picture up on anybody's wall? Desk? Nowhere?"                      Was she really just put in a box underground and forgotten all about? Have her friends even spoken her name to a soul since she passed? If Malia hasn't seen her face in the newspaper or in one of her friend's possession, then who's to say she wasn't forgotten about long before she even died? The ghost still smiles, though, still keeps her lips turned up and her eyes dead cold. False friendliness, an echo of what she used to be - the great protector.                                      "You're Malia. I helped save your life once. You wouldn't remember, though. I don't think." Didn't get a thank-you for that one, either. 

[coiotesx-deactivated20150318]

suivres liked for a starter.

        ” — — i can hear you. i know           you’re there. show yourself           before you’ll regret it !! “

[suivres-blog]

       She can hear her? How delightful! She's been watching quietly, see, didn't think anyone could see her. Maybe she's finally ascended into something that can be seen. The ghost comes out from her hiding place - partially, a wicked and giddy smile on her face. It's filled with malice, but the thought is there.                   "I don't think we've met."  but she's been following her for quite some time! 

[suivres-blog]

( veniialsins )

   cruel words fail to penetrate her sensitive eardrums,    but her ivory flesh prickles each time the other is near like    an icicle skirting across her bare skin. bravado faltering,    she whirls, the colour draining from her face.

                                         for months, she has prayed for the other’s presence.                                          ’come back to me, come back to me, i’m s o r r y.’ & now?                                          now she is afraid. she doesn’t recognize her best friend.                                          what a failure she is.

                                      ’ who are you? what do you want? ‘

                   Of course, as hopeful as she'd been she would be heard, her best friend ignores her once again. Again and again and again! She can't hear her! It's a fate worse than an eternity of darkness, surely. She'd be happier if she'd stayed in the dark rather than sticking around with unfinished business; haunting. Following. Watching. She's not one to sit at the sidelines, Allison needs to take action, and being gagged and shackled to the earth, invisible, you could say she's stuck with a sense of great injustice. Betrayal. She died for Lydia, and now look what she's become. They were supposed to stay strong. She supposes it's time she gave them a reason to be.        After all, the Argents are used to death. Shouldn't her friend be, too?                The ghost tries to tighten her grip on Lydia, nails scratching but never leaving marks, Allison's voice goes from a whisper to a scream.                         "   ALLISON.                                    ALLISON.                                            ALLISON!   "

[suivres-blog]

veniialsins

        "Say you can see me. Say you can see me. Can you hear me Lydia? Can you see what you did to me?"                      She thinks she's finally strong enough - powered up on pain and rage, strong enough to be heard and seen, especially by her best friend. The friend she died for, the friend she'd break just to be seen by again. She never got a goodbye, remember? Her best friend the banshee - the one who can sense death, can she sense it when it's whispering into her ear at night? Fingers are just solid enough to leave goosebumps on people's skins. Allison wonders if Lydia is more susceptible to her touch. Be it because of what she is or perhaps it's because of their bond. Either way, she's tired of waiting around. She needs to be heard.

[musical-blog]

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