- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Genres
- Fantasy, Urban fantasy, Magical, Science fiction (occasionally), Romance (prefer elements of it that occur organically during a RP), Drama (as part rather than the focus of a story), Adventure
Hiding in the warehouse, peeking out from beneath his hiding spot, Julian was a child, watching the adults take care of the difficult things. Thankfully, he wasn't the type whose pride would be injured by requiring to be saved. Surprisingly, neither was he embarrassed nor irked by his own incompetence. When the reinforcements arrived, he only had the distant thought that that was probably good.
The mantle of artificial calm emanating from his Daemon was nearly suffocating – or it would be, if Julian were capable of recognizing such distinctions just then. As it was, he was dazed, almost as if he were sedated. Each movement was like wading through thick syrup, and though his thoughts raced ahead, analyzing various minutiae, he wasn't sure if he was taking things in properly. He was memorizing properly, and could react properly – as evidenced when he refused a weapon and denied needing medical attention – but there was something missing.
He was operating as if this were an entirely mundane, everyday activity, the kind that faded from awareness with each passing minute. Though even compared to that, there was no…no boredom. In fact, there was nothing. A stark emptiness, void of–of emotion, Julian realized with a distinct lack of surprise, alarm, or even intrigue at the discovery. He just…was. When prompted, he followed their rescuers, trudging along the path to the sanctuary.
Upon entering the reception area, he was met by a veritable avalanche of cats. Well, to be truthful, most of them were stationary, with only a few moving towards them with their tails raised. They were all purring though. Oh. We're safe. With that, it was as if a switch had been flicked, and Julian broke out of the enforced apathy. He gasped as he clutched at his head, eyes closing automatically, sensations flooding him.
He recalled the loudness of it all, the screeching of the vehicle, angry voices, a nightmarish sight, grotesque and bloody, the slavering hounds chasing them as they got more and more lost among the labyrinthian streets…it'd been as death itself had been on their heels, as if he'd been firmly in its grasp, not yet quite aware that he was already dead…Julian whimpered–but then, the buildup of panic was broken neatly through by the purring.
It centered him–shifted his perspective and emotional state so very gently, he nearly didn't notice it. He became aware of his body; alive, breathing, sweaty, heart pounding comfortably against his ribcage. He ached, he was scared, but he was there. He was uninjured, and–not well, true, but he could be, would be. That mattered.
Rubbing his temples, Julian sighed, and approached a couch. He toed off his shoes, promptly slumped into the seating area, and curled up into a ball. He was flush to the backrest as he hugged his knees to his chest, and concentrated on his breathing. He was tired; exhausted, really. He closed his eyes, and gave himself some time to simply relax. The minor trembling he'd previously been unaware of gradually subsided, and his heart rate returned to normal. He napped, just like one of the many cats around.
Jellybeans was the one to stir him from his drowsy rest. "Cognitive altering?" he questioned, untangling from his ball and stretching. He followed the cat when it left, putting his shoes on as he went, and knelt down next to where it curled up. "Jellybean? I think…my Daemon did something similar that you and your fellows do. Or…I did, with their help? I was panicked, and then it just…all emotion cut off. It wasn't so…it didn't have the finesse of this," he waved a hand at the purring Daemons, "but it helped, kind of. Could you teach me – us? – how to do it like you do? Or is your skill a specialized one that only a specific kind of Daemon can attain?"
*
When their boss arrived, Julian was still chatting lowly to Jellybean. Noticing her arrival, he said, "Ah, thank you. Let's continue this talk later, shall we? I've got questions for the boss too," he explained quietly. Then he stood up, brushed off his trousers, then nearly stumbled at a leonine Daemon's arrival.
Warily circling around the large being – who, if the petting was to go by, was the madame's Daemon partner – he returned to the couch, and settled upon it comfortably. He waited politely till the boss said her piece. It took a few moments, though Julian couldn't quite judge if the silence was uncomfortable, awkward, or anticipatory on the boss' and the others' parts. As for him, he didn't mind sitting there placidly.
When she finally apologized, Julian nodded serenely. "Well. The cat Daemons do help," he stated. "I did want to know though if those were the usual kind of enemies we're to expect."
The mantle of artificial calm emanating from his Daemon was nearly suffocating – or it would be, if Julian were capable of recognizing such distinctions just then. As it was, he was dazed, almost as if he were sedated. Each movement was like wading through thick syrup, and though his thoughts raced ahead, analyzing various minutiae, he wasn't sure if he was taking things in properly. He was memorizing properly, and could react properly – as evidenced when he refused a weapon and denied needing medical attention – but there was something missing.
He was operating as if this were an entirely mundane, everyday activity, the kind that faded from awareness with each passing minute. Though even compared to that, there was no…no boredom. In fact, there was nothing. A stark emptiness, void of–of emotion, Julian realized with a distinct lack of surprise, alarm, or even intrigue at the discovery. He just…was. When prompted, he followed their rescuers, trudging along the path to the sanctuary.
Upon entering the reception area, he was met by a veritable avalanche of cats. Well, to be truthful, most of them were stationary, with only a few moving towards them with their tails raised. They were all purring though. Oh. We're safe. With that, it was as if a switch had been flicked, and Julian broke out of the enforced apathy. He gasped as he clutched at his head, eyes closing automatically, sensations flooding him.
He recalled the loudness of it all, the screeching of the vehicle, angry voices, a nightmarish sight, grotesque and bloody, the slavering hounds chasing them as they got more and more lost among the labyrinthian streets…it'd been as death itself had been on their heels, as if he'd been firmly in its grasp, not yet quite aware that he was already dead…Julian whimpered–but then, the buildup of panic was broken neatly through by the purring.
It centered him–shifted his perspective and emotional state so very gently, he nearly didn't notice it. He became aware of his body; alive, breathing, sweaty, heart pounding comfortably against his ribcage. He ached, he was scared, but he was there. He was uninjured, and–not well, true, but he could be, would be. That mattered.
Rubbing his temples, Julian sighed, and approached a couch. He toed off his shoes, promptly slumped into the seating area, and curled up into a ball. He was flush to the backrest as he hugged his knees to his chest, and concentrated on his breathing. He was tired; exhausted, really. He closed his eyes, and gave himself some time to simply relax. The minor trembling he'd previously been unaware of gradually subsided, and his heart rate returned to normal. He napped, just like one of the many cats around.
Jellybeans was the one to stir him from his drowsy rest. "Cognitive altering?" he questioned, untangling from his ball and stretching. He followed the cat when it left, putting his shoes on as he went, and knelt down next to where it curled up. "Jellybean? I think…my Daemon did something similar that you and your fellows do. Or…I did, with their help? I was panicked, and then it just…all emotion cut off. It wasn't so…it didn't have the finesse of this," he waved a hand at the purring Daemons, "but it helped, kind of. Could you teach me – us? – how to do it like you do? Or is your skill a specialized one that only a specific kind of Daemon can attain?"
*
When their boss arrived, Julian was still chatting lowly to Jellybean. Noticing her arrival, he said, "Ah, thank you. Let's continue this talk later, shall we? I've got questions for the boss too," he explained quietly. Then he stood up, brushed off his trousers, then nearly stumbled at a leonine Daemon's arrival.
Warily circling around the large being – who, if the petting was to go by, was the madame's Daemon partner – he returned to the couch, and settled upon it comfortably. He waited politely till the boss said her piece. It took a few moments, though Julian couldn't quite judge if the silence was uncomfortable, awkward, or anticipatory on the boss' and the others' parts. As for him, he didn't mind sitting there placidly.
When she finally apologized, Julian nodded serenely. "Well. The cat Daemons do help," he stated. "I did want to know though if those were the usual kind of enemies we're to expect."
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