"Do you always decide you know how everything works right after you arrive somewhere?" It's oh so very dry and she gives him a look. "Sure. Bet everyone's memories are full of murder and monstrosity. But I killed three people and hurt another three last month and some kid who's all pally with the skeleton that killed fifteen in December came and got on my arse about it. And she wasn't the only one. I'm not the one making it weird."
At least, not the only one. And yet after a moment her brow even furrows like she's thinking, and then she groans and grumbles to herself: "...ugh, how did I end up on this side of this shit..."
'Get over yourself', she told Jon. 'Stop moping', she told Jon. And now here she is with a weird furry changeling guy basically telling her to stop being a drama queen.
"Are you--" He actually presses forward and jams an elbow on the table to lean towards Daisy, and the husk in his voice thickens as he tries not to growl.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You don't get to compare yourself to a teenage girl--" with a sharp, broad gesture "--an emo, teenage girl - for losing her shit. You know better. And what you fucking do is pick yourself up and keep fucking going, 'cos like hell is anyone else gonna put in the effort unless you do it fucking first."
He leans back, his ears pressing back at a pointedly annoyed angle. "If you're weird about killing people? Everyone else is gonna be weird about you. You fucked up. So own it and fucking move on."
"I am fucking trying, alright?!" It's the first time the edge of a bark leaks into her voice this conversation, and she grits her teeth against it, letting her teeth catch her own tongue and letting the taste of iron knock her back to her senses.
She's half a mind to argue that wasn't even her point about Darcy, but she decides better of it and just takes a moment to breathe, to try and focus on the quiet before she says anything else.
"...I went cold-turkey and starved myself to skin and bones for a year. Would've been dead, if I'd got to stay at home." Should've been dead, she thinks but doesn't say. "But here? I was always gonna snap eventually. And I really didn't know if I'd come back from it when I did. And we're trying new things. To fix this. But if they don't work—"
Then she's back to being a lost cause, who'll snap so far one day she doesn't come back down.
He doesn't flinch when she barks, but his muzzle wrinkles automatically at the rise in aggression. But he does listen to her with thin, unimpressed patience.
He puts a piece of food in his mouth.
"Two years." He points a thumb at himself. "Cold turkey. Obligate. Cannibal. I get how hard it is to starve yourself off of the one thing that's actually gonna satisfy you. How it's gonna fucking kill you." He lets his hand drop back on the table. "All you can do is fill the gaps with shit to prop up the pieces left of you around it."
Even Daisy winces and hisses sympathetically at that; she's friendly with Siffleur, she's well over any inherent squirming at the idea of cannibalism in itself but obligate cannibal—that's different.
"Haven't had any luck finding that shit yet. Normal food—it doesn't even take the edge off. Glamour passed over by Erin was— too much. She's." A deep sigh. "She's poking around my dreams, right now. Trying to see if she can find— something. I dunno if she will."
Even if she does, Daisy doesn't know if even Erin can win against what could well be the equivalent of a piece of a fucking Fear God.
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hadnoright) wrote2022-11-01 01:56 am
no subject
"Do you always decide you know how everything works right after you arrive somewhere?" It's oh so very dry and she gives him a look. "Sure. Bet everyone's memories are full of murder and monstrosity. But I killed three people and hurt another three last month and some kid who's all pally with the skeleton that killed fifteen in December came and got on my arse about it. And she wasn't the only one. I'm not the one making it weird."
At least, not the only one. And yet after a moment her brow even furrows like she's thinking, and then she groans and grumbles to herself: "...ugh, how did I end up on this side of this shit..."
'Get over yourself', she told Jon. 'Stop moping', she told Jon. And now here she is with a weird furry changeling guy basically telling her to stop being a drama queen.
no subject
"Are you fucking kidding me? You don't get to compare yourself to a teenage girl--" with a sharp, broad gesture "--an emo, teenage girl - for losing her shit. You know better. And what you fucking do is pick yourself up and keep fucking going, 'cos like hell is anyone else gonna put in the effort unless you do it fucking first."
He leans back, his ears pressing back at a pointedly annoyed angle. "If you're weird about killing people? Everyone else is gonna be weird about you. You fucked up. So own it and fucking move on."
no subject
"I am fucking trying, alright?!" It's the first time the edge of a bark leaks into her voice this conversation, and she grits her teeth against it, letting her teeth catch her own tongue and letting the taste of iron knock her back to her senses.
She's half a mind to argue that wasn't even her point about Darcy, but she decides better of it and just takes a moment to breathe, to try and focus on the quiet before she says anything else.
"...I went cold-turkey and starved myself to skin and bones for a year. Would've been dead, if I'd got to stay at home." Should've been dead, she thinks but doesn't say. "But here? I was always gonna snap eventually. And I really didn't know if I'd come back from it when I did. And we're trying new things. To fix this. But if they don't work—"
Then she's back to being a lost cause, who'll snap so far one day she doesn't come back down.
no subject
He puts a piece of food in his mouth.
"Two years." He points a thumb at himself. "Cold turkey. Obligate. Cannibal. I get how hard it is to starve yourself off of the one thing that's actually gonna satisfy you. How it's gonna fucking kill you." He lets his hand drop back on the table. "All you can do is fill the gaps with shit to prop up the pieces left of you around it."
no subject
Even Daisy winces and hisses sympathetically at that; she's friendly with Siffleur, she's well over any inherent squirming at the idea of cannibalism in itself but obligate cannibal—that's different.
"Haven't had any luck finding that shit yet. Normal food—it doesn't even take the edge off. Glamour passed over by Erin was— too much. She's." A deep sigh. "She's poking around my dreams, right now. Trying to see if she can find— something. I dunno if she will."
Even if she does, Daisy doesn't know if even Erin can win against what could well be the equivalent of a piece of a fucking Fear God.