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How long had it been? Minutes, weeks, months, years--they blended together in a blur, time and space, heaven and hell all piled together like paint, smeared like blood through the space in Bipolar's scattered mind and it didn't paint a pretty picture.

The memories weren't buried deep enough, never deep enough, and they haunted her every waking minute, and those memories left scars across flesh so pale, flaying her open like a fish and it hurt. Sometimes, at night, she would curl into a ball in the corner of her room and shake, worried that They would come back. If it wasn't for her twin brother she... She didn't want to think about that. She was safe, in this moment. She was safe and free from Their eyes...but not free from her own strangling fear.

Still, she tried hard to fit in, to play the part of "normal" and get through life. It was easy for Panic. He'd fallen in love and while she was happy for him, she was scared for her. What if he abandoned her as well?

Wrapping her arms around herself, she squeezed tight and kept walking. She knew the idea of Them hunting her in broad daylight wasn't plausible, but it didn't ease the lump in her throat. She hated this--hated how weak she was. The only condolence were the twin blades hanging at her belt, hidden by her coat, and the fact that she would--and had--killed for freedom.

The winter breeze blew pink hair out of her face and she found herself at the park. A place of solace. She always came to sort out her thoughts, even on the most cold of days...but today there was someone here... A girl with hair the color of pastel flowers, a worried look on her face.

Bipolar eased closer despite the thunder of her heart. "Are you okay?" Her voice was soft, breathy, shaky...but somehow strong at the same time.

Bipolar watched the girl with a tail that seemed to go on for forever, watched her with blue eyes, so intent and when the girl jumped, she started as well, ears pinning against her head, but just for a moment's time. Damn, she was jumpy--but then again, who was SHE to judge? Hah. She was the epitome of skittish and jumpy and she knew it. But it wasn't until the pink-haired fox spoke, her voice bold but her movements not so bold, that Bipolar smiled. It was small and shy and she hid behind her fringe of pink bangs.

She could feel the way the stranger eyed her up and down, but not the way They always had. Not hungry, not a predator. The word alone made Bipolar twist her head to scan the horizon, scan for the demons hiding in the shadows, waiting to pounce... It took a long moment before she could reassure herself that They weren't around. It was just the two of them. Taking a deep breath in, she let it out almost shakily. "I'm...not sure," she admitted. "I don't get out much, I tend to draw the wrong sort of attention. Sometimes I feel that life isn't safe, not safe at all, and it's terrifying."

She let out a soft, humorless laugh, blowing hair from her face. She stepped closer to the girl. "Um. I'm Bipolar--yeah, that's my name, and sorry, I'm terrible at this." But she was easing back into a sort of comfort, almost like she could sense that Aklys wasn't a danger...and could quite possibly be stronger than she seemed. That maybe They wouldn't come near...