Desolate

- mention of death + mental illness -
----
"It is foolish to tear one's hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness."
-Marcus Tullius Cicero
----
I'm sorry for scarring you with my words. I know that's going to happen. There's so much I needed to say and your blank white pages are just... I have to talk, I can't keep this all squashed together anymore. Ha, I'm talking to you now, a notebook.
Can't talk to anyone else, but you're there so. I guess this is what I'm doing now. I'm already smudging the pages with charcoal. Can't read what I wrote ten seconds ago. I'm getting so repetitive but hey, you're not complaining. You'll do.
I'm sorry.
----
∅. (introduction)
I'm not sure why... this journal needs this page. Might as well fill it in, in case you get lost. Please don't, I don't want... nevermind.
Name 	Desolate
Creator 	Cloud of the IceWings, adopted by Book Dragon
Age 	...11? 12? Something like that... how many years have passed?
Gender 	Female
Orientation	Settled on bi a few years ago. Still unsure.
Occupation 	Without one. For now. Probably forever, I'm sorry.
Tribe 	MudWings. Bigwings... ha. Not anymore.
Residence 	Possibility, I think the name was. My home is likely the one in the most disrepair.
Relatives 	...Scamper. Morel. Perennial. Doe. Don't go looking for them. They're gone.
----
i. (appearance)
My talons are chipped. I don't think I would have noticed that, if i didn't pick at the dirt under them every day. I haven't been sharpening them in a while now, just normal wear and tear. They're so... dull. Even back in the marshes, they were at least a bit shiny. I guess I stopped trying a long time ago. Hm.
I forgot how green my scales are. They're not even that bad, I guess. Moss green, I think. It's mostly grayish but it's not brown. I'm not normal or something. You're making me notice a lot of things, actually. Just writing them down makes me see more. My topscales are a lot yellower, for example. Why is it all so dull... these are my scales. They belong to me, and they're so faded.
I guess it's nothing less than what I deserve.
I'm mixing up green and brown now, I didn't know it was possible. Greenish brown. My wings and talons and horns. I forgot how hard it was to lift my wings. Lift anything, really. Letting everything slump down is so much easier than moving.
I'm scarred. I don't think I noticed that either. My scales are chipped, but it's not that. There are some that are just... wrong on my wing. I think I got burned there once. And these little stripes of half healed scratches. I thought I got out of the war intact. Guess not. It had to tear bits of me off with it.
My scales are so dull. Even this... stripe of green. It's so light. I don't know why I considered it so bright before. I don't know what changed, I'm sure it was brighter before. I'm sure my scales weren't so thin and ragged and. I need to stop lying to myself.
I know what changed.
----
ii. (personality)
Which is funny. I don't think I've admitted that to myself, really. It's so easy to spout lies that eventually you'll believe it yourself. I'm fine. I'm good, I'm normal, wanting to sit down and cry all the time is normal and how everyone responds to waking up in the morning.
I'm thinking about it again. About that day. Maybe I need to write it all down again. I think Scamper-- I said not to think about it. It's so hard to ignore now. I managed to push it away but it's back now and I don't understand why. But writing this is helping me, I think. Making me feel better. Like I'm actually letting these things out instead of pushing them deeper.
Scamper. I think I'll talk about. Yeah, I'm not shaking too hard. I'm sorry that this is a bit unreadab-- it doesn't matter anyway. No one needs to see this notebook. Scamper always said that letting things out is better. Talking to others about how I feel.
He's. He was --
I'm sorry. I was thinking about it again. I'm crying again I don't understand how I can be so fragile. I. There's something wrong with me isn't there? That whenever I think of the day I get those flashes of reliving the moment. Flashbacks. I don't want them in my head.
Scamper was wrong. He was wrong.
Every. Single. Time. I've talked to someone else I've hurt them. I can tell, I can see their eyes. They pretend things are fine but they're not. By all the moons, they're not. I'm throwing too much negativity all the time. I get angry. I got angry too easily. And I'd throw it at other dragons and expect them to fix me up.
I don't know why I would assume that would work. And now they're gone! Proud of myself, aren't I? I'm less angry now. I can feel it bubbling up before crushing it under my claws. It's fine now. I'm fine now. Crying is normal and a way of relieving stress. I'm fine.
I hurt them and it's too late to fix that. Even an animus can't raise the dead, so they say. I sure tried. But I can work from here, can't I? I can get better. I can be the better dragon. I'm doing that. I'm not hurting others. I'm not sharing my feelings and it works, doesn't it? No one else can be hurt by me if they don't know me.
That's right. Just hold onto the sadness until it fizzles out. Push it down until it's gone. No one else needs to see or hear or know about this. Sorrow shouldn't be spread, I'm just protecting them. I would go back. I'd save them and protect them. I was a coward then. Probably still am, now. But I'm protecting them, aren't I?
Dumping grief on others will just spread it, just make things worse. I just need to hold on until it leaves on its own.
----
iii. (backstory)
I'm thinking about it again. Scamper said to focus on happier memories, so maybe I'll try that. Scamper said a lot of things. I miss him. I wish he didn't-- I'm not thinking about happier things. I'll try to change that. Happier would be earlier. I'm already... nevermind. Think happy thoughts.
I don't remember our hatching. That was happy, probably. Being the bigwings, I had to get them all out of their eggs. I think I did that alright. I was... a clumsy dragonet. Surprised I didn't accidentally kill one of my sibs. That comes later. No I need to... paper's smudged. Sorry.
Growing up was alright, I think. Other sib group helped us with our names. Forgot their names, ha the irony. Their bigwings was named Murre. Odd name, maybe. Desolate. Named me Desolate. Every time I think of that the air tastes bitter. The irony. Three moons, the irony.
Desolation is emptiness and destruction. It isn't - wasn't - was never a pretty word. Yet Murre made that my name anyway. Maybe he knew what would happen.
Sorry for the splatters of ink. I accidentally snapped the quill, I hope this is still readable. I guess I don't. I'm just... thinking happily is so hard. I can't find untainted memories. Might as well try.
Childhood was pretty good. There was a war, but we didn't worry too much about it. Didn't understand what was going on. Those were blissful, rose tinted days. I want to go back. We were happy together. Scamper gave me all those suggestions back then. Something like that.
I was a terrible dragon back then.
Annoying. Loud. So embroiled in selfishness. Haughty. Inconsistent. A terrible bigwings why did I. I can't. I don't want to think about it but all my memories are so entwined with who I was I Was a bad dragon. I shouldn't have been their leader. Why did they all still love me?
Happy thoughts.
We had good times together. Played in the mud, practiced, trained. The general didn't tell us what war meant. He just told us to fly in formation, taught me a bit. Then expected I'd pass on the knowledge to all of my sibs. I didn't. I was too lazy to be bothered to teach. I should have passed the crown down. Even Doe had discipline that I lacked.
I should have tried harder. Done more for them.
But instead, sunlit days of playing in the meadows, of ignoring responsibilities. I hunted for them, so I did something, I suppose. Not enough, most certainly not enough. But we were happy. Happiness doesn't fill in holes where work is supposed to be, but I thought it was good enough. I want to go back there and fix things. I want memories of that joy instead of the quill snapping one.
It's sharp like ice and I can't keep on not thinking about it.
We entered the war around five I think. I don't remember because that's all a blur. All I know is that... it as messy. Ugly, bloody, far worse than even hunting animals. There was so much and these were other dragons, other dragons who wanted to be happy and had lives.
I don't think I realized that at the time. It's so easy to get desensitized, until blood is just another red liquid. It was like a game, where destroying others let you move onto the next level. You don't think about who the other dragons are. You just cut them down. They're just pawns, nameless faceless things you need to fight.
Until you lose one of your own.
Or ha, more than one. The paper is a bit soaked im sorry, the quill is leaking ink again I think I managed to crack the shaft again I don't know. I can't I just - I can't keep on pushing it down. Pretending I'm not seeing it pound through my head every day because I didn't try hard enough to prevent it.
Normal battle. Third day of the year. We were pretty optimistic, all that. Morel's birthday was in a week. He was excited, I think. We all were. But... that battle was... bad. Smaller force, we were supposed to be more a scout party. Two sib groups, something like that.
I knew something bad was going to happen. That premonition. But... ha. I didn't speak up, because I was a spiteful idiot. Dragging everyone down with my stupid emotions. Oh, I was supposed to look out for opposite tribes! So naturally, since I had a petty rivalry with one dragon, I "didn't see" those silver scales.
And now they're gone.
I don't remember - that's a lie. I remembered what happened, and then twisted it. I don't know the line between the nightmares and the truth anymore. That's not the point. The point is that they came out dead. No they. I ran away. I should have been able to but - no. I ran. Escaped the moment those silver scales formed a dragon that lashed and fought and attacked.
I wonder what would have happened if I... well. Didn't look back. Sometimes I wish that I didn't. It was just... terrible. I hate, I can't, I just. I still get flashes of that day. I'm sorry, I'm sorry to all of them.
But that isn't enough, is it?
I don't remember what happened after that. Not specifics, anyway. Like some parts are just torn away. Going back, hiding, finding my place to a town alone. I remember feeling numb. Hollow. I think I tried to fill up that hole at one point. Make friends. Maybe smile again, move on.
I briefly forgot about how my family was dead. Left them behind like grime, memories to be washed away in time. I couldn't ignore how each was sharper than a needle. I can't now. They hurt, I don't want to see them, but the blood and the destruction - it's there when I close my eyes. I don't want them.
The flashes are still there but maybe if I pretend they aren't they'll go away. After all, what else can I do to make them stop?
Help. Helping, asking for help. Doe always said that. That I could rely on her or rely on someone else that I didn't have to do things alone. I listened to her. Of course I did, I wasn't even good enough of a leader to take care of myself. And now she's dead.
I think I relied on... her name was Mudhen, I think. Hen. I came by and cried and sobbed and yelled. She was a nurse or something. Understood my pain, the pain of seeing a dragon fade away before your eyes. She listened. I raved for hours.
And then she turned away. I think I knew already why she would do that. I put all my burdens on her, and she tried her best to make me feel better. Did everything, and I failed to accept it. I wasn't a good dragon - I expected her to fix me, someone who didn't know how to do it. And in the process, I think I broke her.
And look. Ha. I'm definitely feeling better.
There were others. Others I called for and leaned on and expected to somehow make me feel better. I don't remember them. Not a name, or a face. I can't even give them that much - the respect they deserve and the apology I owe all of them. Threw them away when they didn't help, and didn't look back.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry - but I learned, didn't I?
They don't know how to fix me, so I shouldn't have tried. I felt worse, i might be worse because of what I did to all of them. I still feel pain when I think of my sibs. Giving my pain to others - doing anything with it, doesn't help. Breaking pottery and scratching trees in fits of rage don't leave me feeling better.
I can't cure pain and agony and sorrow and grief. But I can swallow it up and push it down until its gone. That's what I'm doing. It's working, isn't it?
I'm not hurting anyone else.
----
iv. (relationships)
I miss them all so, so much. I'm sorry for the wait, I haven't written - thoughts are heavy. I don't like thinking about them. At all.
Scamper. I've spoken of him a lot. Second youngest - I'm doing this out of order. It doesn't matter. He cared a lot about me, I think. Tried his best to help, had plenty of suggestions. Was the first to - . I miss him a lot. I was rude to him, I wish I wasn't. Can't do anything about it, I guess.
Then there's Doe. She was so... caring. Knew her limits, respected others. Didn't really have any empathy at all... she couldn't put herself in others' shoes. Her advice was a bit cookie cutter. But I'm sure it worked for others. It just didn't work for me. I... I hope I was at least kind to her.
Perennial. The youngest. He's the last I think of. Not this time, at least. He was. A curious little dragonet. Liked to run around a lot. Flying, that type of thing. I was terrible to him, wasn't I. I yelled at him for disappearing. I wasn't a kind dragon I wasn't a good bigwings I didn't care about him enough.
Morel. Second oldest. Quiet and solid and stoic and a much better bigwings than me why didn't he hatch first he stayed behind to protect them and failed and I didn't step in I ran and I didn't I didn't and now. I wasn't good enough and he was. Why didn't he hatch first? I'm sorry Morel I'm sorry for all of this for failing and --
Why are there so many names I've forgotten I just remember their voices and expressions not even their faces. They're all so sad and forlorn why did I let them fall why didn't I see what I was doing to them. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. This apology isn't enough and I can't give enough.
Mudhen. I remember her. She was the last she pointed it out she said it to my face. She was brave like I was not. She cared too much for me and I thought she was helping and she was trying but she couldn't do enough and she was too tired and I couldn't be helping I shouldn't have.
I can't be helped.
----
v. (trivia)
Think. Happy thoughts. What an idiot suggestion. Might as well try it out again. There's nothing else to do.
I think I tried to be a glassblower once. I saw them stretch and heat and cool the glass and I wanted to do that. Of course I didn't know how hard it was. Didn't know how hard anything was. It is still interesting, I suppose. 
I think I have some form of PTSD. Nothing diagnosed, but the flashes from the night mean something. They made me spill my inkwell. Thought it was an IceWing. I can't look at red ink the same anymore. Or blue for the matter.
That wasn't a happy thought.
I don't really do anything anymore. This little... house thing was half abandoned. Still looks the part. It's comfortable though, and I guess it's alright. Doesn't remind me of anything. That's good.
I've been trying to collect fruit though. They taste too sugary, but it's better than hunting. Anything is better than hunting. I'd eat spiders if I had to to avoid seeing blood. I'm surprised the RainWings offered fruit for me. They're far too kind.
I have my own garden now though, they don't need to help me. I hope they don't know me. I can grow my own food and then I can bother absolutely nobody. I can be alone.
And if I'm alone, I can't hurt anyone else.
----
vi. (gallery)
Desolate vyper.png|link=User:VyperTheRainwing
DesolateCloud.png|link=Cloud of the IceWings
Desolatepixcloud.png|link=User:Cloud of the IceWings
Category:Characters
Category:Females
Category:LGBT+
Category:MudWings
Category:Mature Content
Category:Content (Bookdrag0n8)