+Nostalgic. for {{Insanity}} (WOLFIE!)

[Sivoncé™]

Emptiness. I am emptiness.
It was beyond the transparency of specters or ghosts bringing prophecy from the ether. He was a phantom form, a translucent parasite clinging to his newly-found half-life. Around him, the trees echoed with loud, blaring noises of the living creatures. Darkly, he growled under his breath. A cloud of cold mist issued from his mouth; his phantom body was slighlty chilled, though the air around him was hot and sticky with summer. The steam billowed as he growled into the night, "Shut up, all of you! I don't care you're alive, I really don't, just shut the hell up!"
Chirrup. Chirrup. CHIRRUP.
You're going insane, Deathie. Stop yelling at the insects.
Why must everything make noise? His thoughts were a brooding storm as he floated tirelessly between the tall trees. Even the river, trickling along in a high-pitched murmur, announced its existence with sound. Nothing is ever content to just be...and yet, here I am.
How can I ever explain any of this to Flame?
He turned back, eyeing the shadowed forest suspiciously. Death learned that he could ghost soundlessly through the forest in his new body. Flame could trail him easily if he let his senses wander. He stared hard into the woods, and then looked back to the silver light of the Shanti river.
Maybe she would understand, he thought doubtfully, kicking a stray stone into the current. Her life was cut short, too.
Still, she died to save our race....how could she understand that I still don't give a damn if they all burn in hell? None of them mean anything to me. He thought fleetingly of the female he'd briefly encountered before hastily fleeing into the woodlands. I wonder where she's going, if she's ever loved, if she has a family.... He shook himself roughly and stared angrily into the water. "I don't give a damn about any of them....and they sure as hell don't give a damn about me."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

((but we care about you Death -impulsively slaughters crickets with fly swatter-))

“This is completely hopeless.”
A cloud of fog rolled from her nostrils, the irritated flutter of her eyelids only emphasizing her rolling eyes. The bronze and crimson pelage, vibrant with silver as she shouldered through the sleeping wood, flared slightly at her neck. Then, finally reigning in the fragments of her sanity, she stopped herself, glared at the sky, and sighed.
What are we supposed to do? We’ve been around in circles, and we still only know the basics—how can we ever keep this valley from going under?
…or, you know, coming back with us.
Shaking her coat until the hairs smoothed naturally against her skin, Flame gulped in a breath of midnight air, and suddenly caught scent of a certain sibling. Well, only sibling, but that was beside the point. After a moment of consideration, Flame rose to her paws and glided towards the source of the aroma, her frustrated wonderings still taunting her futility.
What’re we going to do after all this is over, anyway? Just go back to Hell, like nothing ever happened? Ugh, where’s our friggin’ Obi-Wan Kenobi? I thought they were guaranteed with every “Epic Save-the-World Quest” Happy Meal?

[Sivoncé™]

(( xD I WANT AN EPIC SAVE THE WORLD QUEST HAPPY MEAL AND A FREE OBI WAN! *GLOMP*! ))

Cold, unearthly breath tickled the hairs at the back of his neck. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, taking a deep drink of air before turning to face his sister. To his surprise, her eyes were troubled and lost in thought. Death bit his lip with uncertainty. Do I share, or keep my thoughts to myself? At once, an arguement for each side raised to do battle for dominance in his mind. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. I think I'll opt for the third alternative.
"What's on your mind, sis? You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."
Even as he said the words, he tasted the bitterness of lie in his throat. Originally, he was able to convince himself his motives were honorable. But now, his heart pounded fretfully against his ribs as he waited for her to speak. Flame....I don't think we're here for the same reasons.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Flame revealed an infinitely small half-smile, her gaze softening at the familiar sight. Death. Despite their past, their birth, their hatred, and their personifications—she was Flame, the bringer of light in the world of Death, the bringer of darkness. And yet, in spite of this, all she saw was a brother. In all senses of the word, her closest ally and best friend. He was all she had.
Well, I couldn’t have picked a more interesting partner in crime she thought with a hidden grin.
“Nah, not the world. Just… thinking. I mean, every other time, there’s been some sort of great prophecy and the rules of war were laid out and all that you needed was the two sides of the argument to face each other, duke it out, and finally it would all be over. Just rules and scriptures—a plan. Now, it’s just… nothing. Does anyone know what to do? Is this supposed to be happening? And…”
She sighed softly, shaking her head.
“…what’s going to happen to us, personally?”
Looking up at Death, she offered a quiet snicker. “…just listen to me, worry wart—sorry. Just blabbering... how're things with you?”

[Sivoncé™]

(( I just noticed the quote in your sig ---- I think a cooler ending for Shutter Island would've been if they were only trying to make him think he was crazy but he really wasn't xD ))

As he heard her speak, he felt the guilt way down on his shoulders. If I'm not honest with Flame, I can't be honest with anybody. I have to try and tell her what's on my mind, she'd the only real family I got. Lupus thinks he's a saint and when you confront him he just goes on this feel-sorry-for-me guilt trip thing. Rhain's nice and all but....Flame is family. She's the only wolf who's always had a secure place in my existence. I have to talk....
"Flame....I know there's war coming and things are shifting but...that's not the only reason I wanted to experiment with resurrection. Yes, originally I thought it would help to have eyes on the inside or whatever but....I'm starting to see the same thing you're seeing. There's no great catalyst for correction....there's no act we can commit to that will bring about a mighty change or...save wolven kind. Maybe it's because we abandoned Golden Wolf worship all those years ago or maybe it's just for no reason at all...." He kicked another loose stone into the river and watched the current carry it away. "Have you ever thought about how wisdom is supposed to come with death? Well...maybe it's not the dying part that brings revelation....maybe it's just time and experience. I think...I think the packs have to fix this for themselves."
And now for the hard part...
"Having realized all of this Flame, I don't really care what any of the packs do or don't do...but there are experiences that were taken away from me, from both of us...there are things I want to do before we leave again. I left my mark on the world, sure, but....I need more time." He looked up at Flame, begging her to understand.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

((oddly, I thought the exact same thing—I liked the ending, but that one more twist could’ve been great. Still, I loved how the ended the film with a view of the lighthouse, and the foghorn-esque music))

She lifted her gaze to study Death, unprepared for his speech—actually, it almost contained a more confessional tone—but nonetheless trying to listen. She absorbed his words, suppressing any quick judgments that surfaced in her mind, and maintaining an open, almost naïve stare. When he had concluded, she bowed her head in a few moments of consideration, practically just as startled with her own thoughts on the subject as with the admission itself.
“…I’ll have to agree with you, Death, that dying doesn’t bring wisdom. It doesn’t necessarily bring finality, either. Experience is what gives us knowledge, what gives us perspective…” She paused, and added a softer, “Then again, I suppose neither of us have much experience with life, do we?”
She looked on his familiar features, a fond, sisterly gaze following the outline of his face.
“To be honest, I don’t think I can entirely know how you’re feeling, Death. I know that I care about the packs, that I’m supposed to care about the packs—and I feel that it’s almost selfish to turn away from them… but, is it really all that selfish? Isn’t it… fair, almost? And with nothing to go on, I’m beginning to doubt there’s even a way we could help even if we wanted to…”
Another sigh, and then a quiet chuckle, spilled from the returning half-smile. “Look, Death. You’re my brother. If you want to go out and take chances, I say go for it. Who knows, for all we know, maybe this entire thing was orchestrated to give us a little vacation.”
A vacation with lousy hotel reservations, but a vacation nonetheless.

[Sivoncé™]

Releif flooded over him, and a small smile crept over the phantom's lips. "Thank you," he murmured softly. "I was scared maybe you would call me a traitor." He wrinkled his nose and asked as an afterthought, "But Flame...why do you still care about the packs? There's so much...world and life beyond them," he mused. Again, he remembered his encounter with Kasa and couldn't help but smile once more. "How many wolves have drained themselves and died -- including ourselves -- over the packs? If every wolf outside of them has to take care of themselves, then shouldn't the packs take care of themselves, also?" He walked a few paces away from the river, letting his paws step lightly over the earth. It wasn't the same as walking in a solid form, Death supposed, but the motion soothed him as he found himself deep in thought.
I think I might know what direction I want to go...