[ love is like a sin ] - missing/dead ?

He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take it anymore.

The stress, the weight, the responsibility. Danny wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t made for this. He wanted to go home, wherever that was. He knew that doing this was wrong, and he was so guilty over leaving Goldie alone, but there was nothing he could do to keep himself together. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t do shit. He felt like he was running out of time, but for what? He didn’t know.

In a fit, a complete and unwarned turn of events, his haunted little brain made the decision that he was no longer safe her. Given he’d been attacked on multiple occasions, who was to say him being Captain wouldn’t put himself and Vayne at higher risk? He would have rather died. And die he would.

Well, as far as anyone knew.

There was a commotion through the night with no true explanation, his home destroyed from top to bottom, walls torn apart and furniture shattered, spots of blood present. His golden earring had been torn out, or maybe he did it himself, thrown onto the floor with a streak of blood as well, and bits of his black fur. But he was nowhere to be found. Assumed dead.

Long live the shortest reigning Captain.

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Jotunhel could safely say that he knew at least one person to not be blamed for the chaos that he could smell from being outside the captain's home. Ex-captain? It didn't feel right, to change the terminology so soon after death. The wyvern hadn't even known him, and yet... there was something that ached, as it always did when a conscious life was snatched away; especially in what seemed to be a horrifically brutal manner.

"Do we have any funeral procedures..?" He would ask, standing outside the home. Not daring to step in, not wanting to intrude, not wanting to disturb what likely was the other's final resting space.

jotunhel ._. wyvern ._. tags

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DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
    but the clouds are clearing up
        and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                              like a bastard on the burning sea.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.

Whatever the female had been expecting when she made her rounds this morning, this had not been it. The sight of Danny's home grabbed her attention as she was not far away, body pausing to view the mess it had been left in. They'd spoken, not long before. But she had not taken things to be as drastic as the display left by the house. Had something happened? Had someone broken in?

The plans of his stepping down had been made aware to the caracal, though the exact details of when or how were not guaranteed. She thought they'd have a little more time, that they could transition between their agreement seamlessly, and that she could figure things out from there, happy to know that Danny was safe and healthy, and that their home would always be in good hands. That they were doing what was best for themselves, respectively. After all, this is part of what the female had wanted, wasn't it? The ability to make a change, to be there for others, the same as they'd been to her? To be worth something again. This was a good thing, for the sake of the kid, for the sake of the pirates. She'd done this once before - this should be easy, shouldn't it?

"His...his body's not here, i-is it?" she'd ask, not rhetorically, to the other. Her focus is fading in and out, paws twitching. If his body truly was there, well, she isn't sure she'd be able to handle it. She wouldn't be able to look at it. But, no, it couldn't be. He wasn't dead. The female's teeth would grit, eyes watering. She lets in a quick breath, a shaking paw reaching over the scene. Jot hadn't entered, so it could not be confirmed. But this was her job, to take care of the bodies, to heal the broken. She still didn't quite know how to do even that. How can she be captain? How did she do such a thing? It's this damned head of hers - her downfall, all of it, it's all its fault. All because of her shitty, broken head. And all they're left with is this hollowed out shell, this mouse pretending to be braver than it is.

As she moves farther into the wreckage of Danny's home, she feels the shaking of her paws progress now to her legs. A sense of dread in her eyes, ears downward, nose scrunched up from the blood. This isn't what she'd expected. Isn't what she had in mind. Isn't what he had talked about. Something pokes her paw, takes her out of her head for just a second. Her gaze travels downward, onto the golden earring left behind. Frown present on her maw, she shakes her head. "No, no," she'd say quietly, mostly to herself. "No, th-there's no need. No need for a funeral." She speaks up now, voice shivering in a slight doubt. "His body's not here." It would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn't it? It wouldn't make sense, for something in the night to do this to him, his house, to just steal him away. The only thing that could have done this would have been him. That made sense, didn't it? Didn't it? There was no other scents.

There was still not much Goldie could remember clearly. Her memory was manipulated, warped, and still blocked off by some unknown force. It hurt if she tried to go too far into it, tried to picture things too well. But, there was some things she still had, some things she knew as a fact. And one of those things was what had brought her into her positions, into her power, into her life, as a whole, from the moment she was born. She had been destined for it. And one decision she'd made would determine that fate to come true. The decision to get closer, to break the barrier. To make her papa proud. To meet her family, bring them together, to adopt an obligation to help them, to keep them safe. And that obligation still exists. She knows by now, that she'd made them proud. At least, the old Goldie had. When her papa had stepped down, promoted her in his place, he had known what he was doing. He had known she would take care of their home. And Danny needed her, he trusted that she would adopt those responsibilities once again. He was counting on it, depending on it.

Her greatest fear was to end up alone. And right now, she felt terrified, paralyzed, nearly. But there was no time to feel afraid. There was no time to feel at all. Her mind struggles to focus. But, she had to at least try to figure this out. There was no other option.

A claw moves the earring onto it, holding a grasp of the object for the time being. She blinks at the ground, a few tears had fallen unknowingly as she'd moved along the scene. She sniffs, slowly turning her head. "We'll need minerals, for the throne, for his time." She would be stepping up beside her papa's skull, along with the one made for herself, at another time. She would continue the tradition. She would hold up to her commitment, her promise to her papa, her family, to Danny.

Awaken, poor soul. The remedy of a being calls you.

His eyes, fervent with a cold unfeeling light would open. Wings would draw back, and his chest would widen to allow the cold grasp of the world. A firm shiver could trail down the spine of the beast, who’s face was nothing short of stone. All he had known was stone, for the memories of a lost man truly never become anything more nor less than that. However, the beckoning of another life being ripped from this landscape, at least to the naked eye, was enough commotion to cause an investigation. It was relevant to acknowledge people’s reactions. Relevant to gauge normalcy.

Strangers. It was strangers corralled together around a hobble that wasn’t quite a joke any longer. Cory’s eyes danced to and fro, aggravated at the lack of a corpse almost. There was no recognition. No promise that death was reality. A gruff sigh passed the lips of the wyvern, meager moments later he was staring unto the duo.

“Do we investigate for the body?” he asks, voice gravelly from a lack of existence.

code by spacexual

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Staring mutely at the destroyed home, Rosemary froze. The witch said nothing for a long time. She only breathed, in and out, in breathes that varied as widely as the deepest possible to hyperventilating. Her mind raced beneath the stillness of her body, and she would’ve screamed. But screaming solved nothing.

“If there’s a scent trail… then we should investigate,” she muttered, barely loud enough for the others to hear. She could only respond to Corruptedtimelines.

Danny…? Gone. Possibly dead. And Vanye? Also missing.

Anxiety’s fist clenched her heart so hard she thought she might be experiencing a heart attack. The world spun, for a time, but her paws remained rooted to the soil. She didn’t dare move. If she moved, she would fall, fall, fall into a dark abyss like an eternal dreamless sleep. Like death.

Rosemary’s four eyes half-closed. She breathed in. And out.

“A funeral…” the responsibility for that fell on the soothsayers. But Rosemary, despite all her healing knowledge, all her time as a soothsayer, never held one. Her social anxiety, her hermitness, her brainfunk, whatever the fuck she wanted to call it, always surged.

But what remained of the pirates needed her. So she didn’t have a choice, did she? Goldie couldn’t do this alone. Maybe, once. But not now.

“If he doesn’t return… then… maybe.” Her jaw clenched so tight. The first ache of a budding migraine buzzed in her teeth.

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PEACEFALL

peace comes at dawn, but yours comes at night