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slayingtail

"My dear instructor..." he lilted.

Surprise beautiful person! Once you get this, you must put it into at least 8 people’s asks who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen, but it is nice to know that someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out. ♥

//AKJSADHS PERFECT QUISTIS-MUN IS PERFECT.<333 Thank you! ;A;

#slayingtail #asks #ooc

ＦｒａｇｍｅｎｔｓｏｆＳｏｒｒｏｗ {Liongriever+Slayingtail

<<❖ How long has it been since...? His thoughts dispersed within moments of him beginning to recollect those tender memories of what happened many weeks, or was it months, ago? He couldn't remember. He wanted to know so badly remember. It was kind of funny that to him, it felt like it was just yesterday. He opted for that thought to calm him -- as difficult as it would have been for him to get over what he had done in his past, his present, and more important, his future was held in just tightly clasped, calloused hands.

Even if he tried not to put too much weight onto his shoulders, he couldn't imagine how he endured withstanding this much pain. He, who craved his solitude, was now a wreck without someone to share his time with. He, who was a loner, who used to like being alone; now hated to feel alone. Why? This feeling tore him up inside, his throat welling up to a large lump he found difficult to swallow down along with his pride. There was he, who once found the clarity of being alone was his remedy, now sullen and skulking in his unneeded introspection.

Squall had rolled onto his back, soaked in sweat from under the draping hair over his forehead. Were his thoughts always this foreboding? His arm rested a few inches above his forehead, bent at the elbow. If he had known better, he drank too much last night. His vision was still blurry, and his body felt as sore as if he had run miles and miles until his legs gave out and he bloodied up his knees from falling too hard onto concrete. His body ached, but he pushed himself up from bed that contained fluids he couldn't even imagine to begin deducing as what as what. Then it hit him like a thrown brick straight to his face -- more like the smell of it -- but he sat up, staring down at the contents of what last night had done to him. His foot involuntarily moved slightly until the contact of a glass bottle got his attention. He remembered now, but his head had begun to drive him crazy with the constant ringing and pounding. "Fuck," he exhaled.

"I remember coming home from the bar after being kicked out, forcibly, might I say."

He shook his head, resting his head in his hands as they supported on his legs by strong elbows. "I remember grabbing whatever I could find, and drinking on my bed.. Must've spilled some shit then." He suddenly felt the pit of his stomach growl, and it made him feel sick. "Probably.. vomit, too. Ugh."

He swung his arms to his side, using what strength he could gather to stand up on shaky legs that bent and wobbled when the dizziness settled in. "Fuck this shit," he cursed, reaching out for something to hold onto to prevent him from foolishly falling to his face. He sluggishly moved from his bedroom to his kitchen right out the door with his first instinct to head for the answering machine, but he already knew there wouldn't be that noticeably blinking annoyance of a light to alert him of a voicemail. "None, why aren't I surprised?"

He hissed, holding his head as the pounding got louder. He looked for his pants -- considering how intoxicated last night, he barely woke up with clothes on. He wondered why it was extra breezy. He searched further to find his pair of black pants sprawled behind a couch, how it got there, he didn't bother questioning. He just looked through the pockets until he found his cellular. He checked the recent calls but found nothing. He paused, staring at the screen and his finger just a centimeter from the Send button over the contact's information. He hesitated before pressing the icon, and the phone started ringing. Putting it to his ear, he listened to ring over and over.. and over. Giving up, he tosses his phone to the floor in a rage.

Moments later he emerged from the shower, more aware, and less drunk than he was after he got dressed and had some hot coffee. He sat at the table, slumped over in the chair behind him, staring at the open window to the side of him. "This place has gotten boring, hasn't it? This island... I'm quite done living here." His inner thoughts were meant to be curt, but he meant it. He was already tired of being here for too long that he was ready to up and leave at any moment.

Something, or someone, was holding him back. He stared up into the blue sky that seemed to darken. His heart started to sink. He considered his eyes were playing tricks on him. Shit for luck he had. The sky was enveloped in darkness, as if the sun itself had exploded and the night took over. It clicked in his head. The very thing that happened to him back in another place, at another time of his life when he took a different identity. "No -- No." He refused to believe it. Rushing to the window now, that was when he had braced himself seconds before it happened. The very ground had shook, angrily. The sea beginning to roar and rise a considerate amount that it washed the sand off the shore and started to flood. That was when he looked to the sky, azure eyes taking in a sight he couldn't imagine would happen. The sky had opened up, a purple aura of evil, releasing beasts of a kind he knew too well of. These monsters returned -- the Heartless, were going to wreck havoc among the island, and Squall was having none of it today.

His mind was all over the place, as this swarm of monsters had taken over the island, causing mischief and destroying everything and everyone. He could smell the smoke of a nearby fire, people screaming, all whilst the ground shook uncontrollably for moments of a time. He could feel his inner lion want to roar, to get out there and protect his territory with an extreme dominance.

<small><smal But he only had one person on his mind that he could only think about their safety over his own. It was only a matter of time before the army would've grown, and how far into the island they would reach to. Considering the distance, he figured he would have plenty of time -- If he left now. Into the depths of his closet, he reached for his trusty and reliable weapon he thought he would never use again. With his gunblade resting casually against his shoulder in a proper position and his hand on the gun's hilt, he headed for the door and took a step outside to the darkness of the this abyss.

#liongriever #thread #slayingtail #fragments of sorrow #FEELS.