sigil macy-blackmore {district t w o} fin~

ᴥ Head RP Tutor 4,547 POSTS Pronouns: he/him last seen Apr 22, 2024 23:03:22 GMT -5 oof	sigil macy-blackmore {district t w o} fin~ Apr 12, 2014 4:29:43 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ᴥ on Apr 12, 2014 4:29:43 GMT -5 sigil macy-blackmore eighteen part time crazy full time trouble lovin' mah twinsie hearin' voices, smellin' smells o d a i r
	Last Edit: Apr 13, 2014 20:33:36 GMT -5 by ᴥ the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

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sigil macy-blackmore {district t w o} fin~ Apr 13, 2014 3:11:27 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ᴥ on Apr 13, 2014 3:11:27 GMT -5

Sigil macey-blackmore

getalongwiththevoices

People don't believe me when I say I'm half of a person. Their eyes gleam with a pity I am far too used to seeing, their voices taking on a condescending tone. I'm tired of hearing how confused I am, that I am simply don't understand because I'm different. ~~how they spew the words like it's something to be ashamed of.~~ 'Cause, they really don't understand. Normal people's heads are not filled with imposters. Claiming to be even the most ludicrous of things. ~~I once spoke with Ripred for a good three hours. Nice fellow.~~ I'm not a stupid man, really. My grades are all above average and... I do have friends. If you saw me in a crowd, honestly the only thing that would stand out about me is the fire upon my head.

It's only why they know do they treat me any different. Sigil, who hears things that aren't there, and smells scents which don't exist. Sigil is abnormal. I don't think I could handle their treatment, if I was a whole person. Their words would have long beaten me to the ground, forcing me to embrace how "someone with my condition" was expected to act. Good thing I'm not... right?

I was born mere minutes after Edgar. I don't think mother expected another. A pleasant surprise in a shitty situation I guess. Edgar and I are bastards, not in the derogatory sense ~~though I suppose to some that is debatable~~ but in the most literal sense. My father is a Blackmore, the Mr. Blackmore. The one with a shit-ton of children with his wife, and who knows how many more with a host of suitors. One, being my mother. He hung her out to dry with the rest of the women, and apparently, this guy has some deal with the devil, the amount of twins his ladies pop out. I wouldn't know though, I haven't got to talk to the little demon yet. ~~Though I'd hope Ripred would put in a good word.~~ I'm glad to be alive, and I'm glad we're whole so... I guess I owe father a thank you. But... that's all I owe him I think.

Quite honestly, I do not feel privileged living with my various half brothers and sisters ~~as well as a few cousins who are about as sane~~ With the lot of them, I'm almost boring. Coming from the guy who gets a strong whiff of rotting flesh on a daily basis. Oh yeah, in case I forgot to mention, I don't only hear things. I couldn't be a normal nut job, of course I couldn't. Seeing things would have been far too easy. I hallucinate smells. You all have those moments, where you swear you smelt that freshly baked bread. Desperately searching the house for the source of that single whiff. It's almost like that, except amplified by about a shit ton. Never a blessed child, freshly baked cookies do not haunt my senses. It's death. The smell of rotting flesh and drying blood. That of decay and mold.

I know far too much about the smell of death.

The voices are cruel, their invisible hands pounding at my skull, breaking an already fragile mind. They ask so much of me. Shrill and unforgiving tones digging at my eardrums. Demanding my compliance, each tone seems to have its own, sickening request. You see that squirrel? It's barely more than a whisper. Soft enough to pass of as a breeze, if I didn't know better. Strangle it. Wrap your hands around it and kill the fucker. "No." I speak aloud, my own personal conversations nothing new to those who keep me company. I don't want to hurt it. I'm not cruel... I'm not like those sadistic fucks that share my name. I'm not. not. not! Soon, it is a chorus of nails against a chalkboard. It hurts far too much to resist. "I'll do it... just please." My tone is that of a man begging for his life. How ironic, as before my heart dare beat, the furry creature is in large hands. I'm sure it would have fought, had my desperation not snapped its neck.

You're sick! They tease, malice laced with every syllable. Killing such an innocent creature.

So is the life of a madman.

There came a time when mother couldn't care for us. Her bones ached and her skin grew pale. That's when we officially became a part of the Blackmore family, ~~quite regrettably I may add.~~ Edgar and I weren't ones to accept defeat. Under the cover of a navy sky, we stole. The food, so common it was considered a luxury, the clothes, so necessary for warmth, yet thrown into piles like they were nothing. The Blackmore's know nothing of strife. So we shared them with our dying mother.

You see? I'm not a bad guy really. I have feelings, just the same as you. I crave attention, revel in praise. And deep down... I want someone to care for me. Just as I care for others. It's not so much of a lack of normality, but lacking the ability to express it. I'm a prisoner, to forces inside my own mind.

I'm a timebomb, and fuck do I know it. The voices demand so much of me, more every time I comply. They are sadistic, not I! Hurting another is something I'd usually never dare. I don't wish to inflict pain on another, to see them recoil at a harsh touch, even give the slightest of screams before my hand makes its way over their lips. I'm not always like this. There are times, when the voices are all but absent, only whispers left to float about a mind then completely my own. And, for a time, I can see myself in the shoes of a normal man. With a normal wife, and normal children. Until...

Stab yourself.

The only person truly safe around me is Edgar. No matter what the voices might demand, I'd never lay a finger on the brother I hold so dear. He's a scientist in his own right, a man with a future. And nothing can bring me to harm him. Quite honestly I've yet to harm a human. No matter what they demand, those who share my flesh, be it by relation or simply being alive, I'll do my damndest to ignore them.

I'm not abnormal, by any sense of the word. Not in comparison to those who choose to hurt another. Who drink their life and bake their flesh. I'm better than them. There no way in hell I'll let them think otherwise.

Edgar and I, we're half a person. together, we're whole. We're unstoppable.

And we're gonna raise hell.

made by prism of btn and ls~

Last Edit: Apr 13, 2014 20:30:44 GMT -5 by ᴥ

the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

ᴥ Head RP Tutor 4,547 POSTS Pronouns: he/him last seen Apr 22, 2024 23:03:22 GMT -5 oof	sigil macy-blackmore {district t w o} fin~ Apr 13, 2014 20:33:17 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ᴥ on Apr 13, 2014 20:33:17 GMT -5 fin~
	the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n

cass Retired Staff 4,822 POSTS last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5	sigil macy-blackmore {district t w o} fin~ Apr 13, 2014 21:20:40 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by cass on Apr 13, 2014 21:20:40 GMT -5 you're perfect okay