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| You'd better not be in here reading this. >_> |
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| Total Votes : 5 |
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 Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:23 pm
 --[The Footsteps of Doom]--
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:28 pm
 --[About Me]--
Name: JoJo
Gender: Male
Nickname: Can you even MAKE JoJo any shorter?
Orientation: Straight, I guess.
About me: I'm not nice. That's just how it is. If you spent most of your life trying to help people only to have them turn on you, you'd probably be mean too. I don't like getting close to people, and though I have (in my opinion) a pretty good level of patience, I wouldn't put it to the test. And don't think I can't tell the difference between playful innocence and just plain idiotic pestering, because I can. I have a knack for predicting natural disasters, but every time I've tried to warn people about them, they just stare at me until the disaster happens, then they think I'm to blame. I've never really understood it, but it's something I just can't help repeating; you know, like a lemming.
Likes: Solitude, singing
Dislikes: Lots of stuff... stare
Theme Song: Paranoia Agent Opening Theme I guess the video applies too; watch; you should understand.
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:31 pm
 --[Stuff I Think is Okay]--
Crickets- Tiny musicians of the night, we salute thee!
Rain- It's actually very nice when it doesn't come with lightning or hail.
Mountains- The view is good and it gives me a sense of security. Namely, no one can sneak up on me.
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:33 pm
 --[Stuff I Hate]--
Humans- I could go on for days. They're cruel, they smell, they wreck everything, they want to catch you, and they make up silly rules about life and expect everyone to abide by them. They think they run the world. stare Well, maybe not ALL of them....
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:34 pm
 --[A Doomed Destiny]--
Not very good at this...
The Beginning
My life began with a crate. It was plain and smelled of too much use as confinement, and it was full of straw and stale food. My mother was curled up in a corner, her breath sounding like rusty nails rubbing against each other. It was never quiet; the air was always full of the cries and wails of other creatures close by, probably in different crates. My mother barely moved, and I couldn't help her. I didn't know how.
Whenever she had enough strength to talk, she told me of a forest fire that she had given warning of to a village in the mountains, saving the people from being burned alive. But she had been injured from getting too close to a collapsing tree, and a kind villager, seeing that not only was she hurt but bearing young, had rescued her and had taken her to what he supposed was a nice, respectable pair of breeders, who promised to take good care of her and make sure she was strong enough to bear her young.
But the breeders turned out to be vile and cruel, and they took delight in stealing various creatures from others. I heard the two saying it was wonderful luck that they had come across something so rare as an Absol. They constantly spoke of a 'boss' who would be so pleased to have something so rare and wonderful. I couldn't imagine what this 'boss' wanted with us, but my mother was so upset about being locked away and not being out there saving more people. I thought back then that we were some kind of heroes, and that the world would surely suffer without us being there. She told me that if ever I saw a chance to run away, I was to take it, no matter what, even if she couldn't follow.
Not long after that, my mother stopped breathing. I remember the two 'breeders' looking in through the holes in the crate and saying things like "such a shame" and "odd how there always seems to be just one in the world." I snarled at them and tried to poke their evil eyes out by shoving my paws through the knotholes, even though it hurt and all I snagged were splinters. Something was dropped through one of the holes; a stinky ball that blew smoke all around the crate. It made my eyelids heavy and I felt myself fall down to the floor, my body unwilling to move. When I woke up, my mother was gone. I never saw her again.
The Escape
After that, things began happening fast. My crate was picked up and moved around, along with many others, from what I could gather looking out of the knotholes. We were transported from place to place, and finally let out of our crates and to a place that I didn't recognize, but had a wide area with fresh green grass and trees with branches that came teasingly close to the other side of a fence that to me seemed higher than an Onix, despite my already being half-grown. Not only was it high, but a current ran through it; I saw a young Mankey try to climb it and get a nasty shock and a burnt paw for her trouble. I knew there were some of us who could use their electric powers to short out the fence, but they were nowhere to be found; doubtless they were kept somewhere else just for that reason.
I learned also that my kind were not looked upon as heroes. Many of the others avoided me, muttering things about disaster and bad luck. I managed to realize what I had failed to comprehend from my mother's fevered ramblings: we did save people, but they looked upon us as the bringers of the disasters, not the saviours. I came to wonder, why then did we do it?
Half of the answer came to me as I saw the same Mankey as before try once more to climb the fence, then another, then once again, until she had received so many shocks to her system that she had lost her mind, and the hated pair of humans had to come and take her away. I realized that there are instincts that drive a body onward, whether they like it or not. Mankey must climb, Goldeen must swim, Diglett must dig, Smeargle must paint, and whether we get the recognition we deserve or not, Absol must continue to predict disaster, and assist whenever they can.
My chance finally came when I felt my gifted instinct stir within me for the very first time. I could feel the tension in the air, the wind picking up just so, and the sky rapidly darkening with clouds, occasionally lit from within. Not caring what they all thought of me, I rounded on the group within the fence and loudly proclaimed that a bad lightning storm was coming. Despite their animosity, they took my word for it, and began to take what little shelter they could. Just as I felt the first drops of rain hit my back, the two hated humans appeared to usher all of us inside to safety. I stood my ground and would not follow, and they passed me by in an effort to get as many of the others as they could. Before long, only I remained outside. The two tried everything they could: I swatted pokeballs away, the smoke-emitting balls became useless in the rain, and I led them on a muddy and slippery chase when they tried good old-fashioned rope. I was exhausted and shaking from cold, but I would NOT let them catch me; I didn't know how I knew, but something told me that if they succeeded, I would never have another chance to get away.
Just as I was beginning to think that I would no longer have the strength to leap away if they tried the ropes again, a bolt of lightning tore through the air and struck the fence with a crash that seemed to shake the very sky and knocked all three of us off of our feet. I stood up first, feeling tiny shocks of static pop all over my fur, and looked to where the lightning had blasted a corner of the fence until it had nearly been split in two. Mustering the last ounce of strength I possessed, I dashed past the two and leaped through the gap. I felt a searing pain in my side as a sharp bit of metal grazed me, but determined as I was to escape, I ignored it and ran into the forest while the storm continued to dump rainwater onto me and the lightning raged overhead. All I could think about was putting as much distance between me and that hateful place as I could.
The Fire
I don't remember to this day how much time I wandered around, long after the storm had passed, lost and fatigued. The gash in my side grew steadily more painful as infection set in, and before long it was a chore to even breathe, the pain was so bad. I was taking longer and longer rests, and could have been going in circles for all I knew. My mind was still racing, but my body was utterly spent.
At last I came to rest beneath a tree, on a bed of heather. Better I think that I had just gone ahead and expired; it would have made a fit resting place. But awaken I did; I opened an eye and was met by another eye. I felt something poking me on the side of my head, and all I could muster was a weak growl. The intruder stepped back, and I saw that it was a Cubone, staring at me through the skull it always wore, and poking me with its bone club. Behind it, an Eevee blinked at me with friendly eyes, and a Nidoran was just emerging from the bushes, followed by a small boy. Fresh from my encounter with humankind, I growled again, but all I gained was a stern glare from the Cubone.
The little boy approached me. I would never forget that face. Suntanned it was, and framed by a shock of hair the color of the forest he was surrounded with, his eyes the color of the bluest ocean. He was the youngest human I had ever seen, but that did little to ease my feelings on the matter. I remember the first thing I heard him say: "Wow! An Absol! And it's hurt......poor thing." His poke's (for that was what the others were), watched on like silent guards as the small boy reached into his satchel and brought out what looked like a small gun. Too sick to even growl, I let the boy place it onto my skin. There was a hiss, and within minutes I was shakily standing up. The boy had moved to the other end of the clearing after injecting me with the medicine, and he was watching me with his big round eyes. No longer apprehensive, I matched his stare, studying the boy and his friends. An aura of happiness surrounded them and it was plain to see that this little human loved his companions as though they were his own kind. All I felt for a while was astonishment.
Finally, the boy got up and began gesturing to his friends, introducing them as though he was a host at a party. He had given them all nicknames, and forgive me but I cannot remember a one; I might have once, but no longer, though I'll never forget what he called me. "I'm gonna call you......JoJo." He nodded and turned to walk back into the woods, gesturing for me to follow. Suddenlt suspicious, I narrowed my eyes and didn't move. He turned around and looked at me, confused, but then his little face lit up with comprehension. "Okay," he said, "You stay in the woods." He turned back around and walked off, and I noticed that as his friends followed, each gave me a small nod, even the Cubone.
For what seemed a long time, I remained in those woods, and the boy came often, bringing the rest with him. He never tried to catch me or trap me, but seemed content to sit there and yammer on to me while his friends gradually came to accept me as sort of a wild cousin. The Eevee in particular, I remember, was friendly. I remember her nickname now, it was Teenchi. She told me that their trainer was very young and was just getting into the basics of training. They all loved him, and were truthfully very happy to have such a powerful pokemon close by to help keep danger away. Though I was never condescending enough to let the boy hug me or pet me, I found myself close to him more and more often, my senses on the alert and determined to protect this small group. Never on my watch, I vowed. For a small time at least, I felt like a hero.
But it was all too soon when disaster sniffed out my trail and brought about tragedy and the second half of my understanding.
The day had started out cloudy, but had gradually become darker as the day wore on. I sensed another lightning storm and suspected that the boy would not come, but come he did, faithful to the end. I was concerned, and told the others that the storm would be a bad one and that they all should return home. Teenchi told me that the boy knew this, but came out here to offer me shelter. I resisted, but this time the boy would not be assuaded. I felt the electricity build up in the air, and my senses suddenly peaked; this storm would not be the only disaster to happen in this forest today.
Remaining as calm as I could, I told Teenshi to take her friends and run on ahead to their home. Not knowing the way, I would follow, and the boy in turn would follow me to safety. She nodded and vanished into the bushes, the others trailing. I ran after them, hearing the boy's shouts and sounds of pursuit. So far so good, I thought, until a bolt of lightning lit the entire forest up like a spotlight, and this time, the crash was followed by an ominous cracking. Lightning had struck a tree. And that hailed the second disaster.
I whirled around franctically, looking for the boy. My momentum carried me too close to a rushing river that I had failed to notice before, and the earth beneath my feet suddenly gave way and I fell into the river. The current was strong, and it was a fight just to stay afloat. Panic welled up inside me, and it heightened when I saw the forest begin to light up in an eeire orange, and I heard a plaintive voice calling, "JoJo! Where are you?" I tried to call out, but my mouth filled with water and I was sucked under until I was forced to let my breath out. Lack of oxygen forced me to slip into unconsciousness, and for what seemed an eternity I was carried along through an endless dark dream.
I awoke on the shore of the river on the outskirts of the forest, ashes falling like snow. I looked up in shock as the flames seemed to be consuming the entire forest, sending black smoke into the air to mingle with the remnants of the storm. I got up and rushed back to the forest as close as I dared, but halted and dashed into a bush when I saw the humans. At least 10 Officer Jennys were there, shouting orders and signaling helicopters that dotted the sky, pouring water out of their mechanical bellies in an effort to control the fire. I saw no sign of the boy, but I did see two ordinary humans standing beside one of the vehicles. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like one had the boy's forest-green hair.
I heard a noise behind me, and as I turned I saw Teenshi and the others emerge from the bushes, singed and very angry. Before I could say anything, Teenshi told me in a flat voice that the boy had not made it out of the woods. Then as one they jumped upon me and attacked me with all of their might. As far as they were concerned, the boy's death was my fault, and in a way I felt it; if I hadn't been so careless, the plan would have worked, and the boy would be safe with his friends and family instead of a charred husk in the forest. But it was worse than that. Teenshi and the others had not seen me fall in the river, nor did they see me emerge minutes ago. In their eyes, I had abandoned their friend, their precious trainer, to save my own miserable skin.
When they tired, I had no choice but to run. I took a painful hit in the back from the Cubone's club, but soon I was too far away for them to follow, and once again I was on the move, this time running from intangible things as well as tangible.
That night, as I lay outside a cave on a mountaintop, I found myself asking again, why did I do it? The previous answer, that it was instinct, just didn't seem enough. I had gone against many other instincts when I let that boy and the others befriend me; it seemed like a completely fresh question. And as I looked up at the moon, seeming slightly red from the huge fire still visible in the distance, a fresh answer came. It was destiny. Some of my kind had destiny as well as instinct; legendaries were loaded with it. And it wasn't as though they CHOSE to be legendary; they just were. Just as I 'just am'. I am destined to predict the disasters, but the outcomes will always be clouded to me. It's just the way it is. But one thing I was certain of as I lay there watching the faraway trees smolder; it would be a long, long time before I would ever make such a mistake as letting others get that close to me again.
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:36 pm
 --[Wow....people]--- I guess I can safely say she's my friend now; maybe more than that someday. She likes to sing, but sometimes I find her hard to read; she does things that I don't understand sometimes. Acquaintances:Donnie- Met him once. A quiet sort with an interest in natural disasters. At least he has respect for them and isn't the 'pretty clouds, pretty rain' type. Enemies:Celandine- He's not a bad kid, but he plays too much with fire for my liking. Diddley- What I said before about playful jesting doesn't apply to her. If I hear her singing the 'Polkamon' song around me one more time, I'm putting her tongue in a splint. stare Obsidian- I was in a fight with her and Tolftken and she burned me rather badly with some strange firey power she has. I only know that there is some bad blood between her and Tolfitken, but she hurt not only me but someone I considered under my protection. That sort of thing is hard for me tor forgive.
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 6:37 pm
 --[Cataclysmic Arrival?]--
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 8:30 pm
 --[Mingling and Befriending (Are You Serious?)]--
I do not 'mingle'. You would do better to ask an Onix to fly or an Abra to grow feathers. Enough that I would be brought before a potential angry mob so that they can remember my face for future reference, but with the appearance of all the pokemir, word would surely spread of an Absol among them, and the rumors that shadow me wherever I go would surely be brought to light.
There is one namir that seems to persist in noticing me. A rather strange-looking female; I believe her name is Tolfitken (strange name too; maybe she has pokemir roots?). She seems to enjoy nothing more than directing remarks my way when I show my face for nothing more than to appease some human who insists upon it. It has become somewhat of a game for us; playful, not-quite-hurtful banter, back and forth, forth and back, until one of us leaves. I cannot say I do not enjoy it somewhat.
And so I endeavor to be aloof and uninteresting. I offer no pretense of friendship, and I do nothing to gain any attention of any sort, save for the occasional word of greeting directed my way, which I of course return. And still the skies have remained blue and sunny.
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 8:34 pm
 --[Solace in Song]--
Since that fateful day when I learned to the full extent who I was and what my destiny was fated to be, I sought solitary comfort any way I could. I never thought for an instant that something like song would be of any help to ease my troubled heart, but I learned differently one quiet night when I happened by happy chance to stumble across a herd of Khangaskhan singing their young to sleep. I could feel the sound carrying across the grass and to me, where it seemed almost to enter my skin and permeate right to my center with its soothing notes and message of love and security.
Since then I had paid close attention to the various songs around me, although joining in was denied me; how would an Absol sing the bright and cheery chant of the Pikachu, or the hauntingly beautiful melody of the Dragonite? For the longest time all I could do was listen from afar and pretend that I was a part of the song, striving to imagine that the good feelings that they inspired within me were okay to feel.
But here in this strange new world, there are songs that belong to no one and could be sung by anyone. Ones that have all of the feeling and emotion of the ones I had previously heard and then some. I hear them everywhere, and in many different tongues; some harder than others, but I find that when one masters the song despite its added difficulty, it makes it seem all the more special and meaningful.
I find that I actually prefer some songs of a different tongue. Italian I especially like; the words are strong and passionate, the music is clear and cleansing, and the emotions that permeate me are powerful and gentle all at once. Though not all of the most passionate I have heard are Italian. One set of songs I heard about a man so wrought with pain that he sought revenge by killing others with a razorblade were passionate, albeit violent and despairing. Though when they sound from my own throat, it makes me feel alive and wanting to go forth and do......something. Anything. Whatever it takes to appease it. I suppose then that it is lucky that I insist upon singing alone and well out of earshot.
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 8:42 pm
 --[Death of a Beginning]--
It was only a matter of time before someone wondered about my impulse to wander off and sing. And who better to discover this than Tolfitken, the namir that I couldn't decide if I liked or hated.
One minute I was alone, singing to the trees and the insects, and the next there she is, watching me. Watching, like it was odd to find someone like me singing. I was angry of course; if I were a human, this would be the equivalent of reading my diary. But when she confided in me that she genuinely liked my singing, I softened a bit; I thought I finally detected a bit of a kindred spirit. She even asked me for a lesson. I told her to meet me somewhere else, where I would oblige her. Hey, I had to make sure she was serious.
Sure enough, she arrived. It went okay at first; I gave her some pointers, and she tried them out right there in front of me. I allowed the first stirring of hope to flourish inside of me. But an innocent remark from her sent it all spiraling downward. She said nothing wrong, but it brought in sharp relief that which I had tried to set aside; I had experienced this before, had a tantalising taste of friendship, and it was always snatched away in a heartbeat, and I was left behind with a heart that in its anguish became a little more stony. What, a voice inside me said, makes you think that this one will be any different?
Determined not to experience that again, I became noticeably cooler toward her as the lesson progressed. I could tell she was hurt, but I kept convincing myself that it was better that I show her that just remaining acquaintances was best, for me and for her.
All of a sudden, that which I had been dreading since I set foot in this land happened. I felt a tornado beginning to form, almost seeing it in my mind's eye, reaching down, tearing up trees, scarring the ground, whisking Tolfitken up into the sky before hurling her down to the ground like a broken toy.
I hurriedly told her to dig herself shelter and stay there. Perhaps I should have explained my intentions, but there wasn't time. I was able to keep pace with the dervish and tried to estimate its path so I could run on ahead and give warning.
But Tolfitken did not listen. God, why didn't she listen? I told her to stay put, and she comes after me like an addle-brained Psyduck, shouting at me as though I could hear anything through the roaring wind. I did everything I could to dissuade her from following, but on she came. I finally just left her to look out for herself and I dashed on, suddenly aware that in my haste to turn Tolfitken away, the tornado had gained a remarkable lead.
But by the time I arrived, I was too late to give warning. The tornado had ripped through an area that had unmistakeably had living beings in it moments before. It seemed a miniature repeat of that fateful day, and the images mixed with the ones I was seeing in front of me until I thought I would go mad with all of the despair and helplessness.
When Tolfitken caught up, I was less than courteous. What shocked me was how she spat right back, something about refusing to be left behind and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself! I still can't grasp it fully. I tried to protect her, and here she acts as though I have done something too despicable for words. It left me wondering as I turned my back on the entire scene and left, was it really worth caring about someone enough to stall the urges that went with one's destiny?
I walked away, not caring what Tolfitken thought of me, and I have yet to return there. I was so close. It could have been a wonderous beginning, a chance for me to finally experience what it was like to have a friend. I don't know if she would have accepted me anyhow, once she learned who and what I am, but now I don't know if I will ever know for sure.
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Posted: Mon Aug 25, 2008 8:04 pm
 --[The Nightmare]--
Always it starts in those same woods. No sign of the way it was before the storm and the fire, when everything whispered of security and general goodwill, of companionship and possible friendship. It is as though that part of my life has been put aside, even in my subconscious.
It always begins with the fire. The entire forest is lit up with it; bright orange tongues wagging from every direction, smoke billowing and curling toward the sky to vanish among the already blackened clouds, waves of heat distorting my vision and shoving through my fur to soften my skin, and shadows dancing off of everything, as though each and every leaf is giving up the ghost.
I am alone at first, trying to run out of the forest before it consumes me. The air is filled with the demonic laughter of the fire, cackling like a hag, while the trees respond with groans and creaks as the fire clings to them and unmercifully eats them alive, until they topple down and lie there, defeated. Everywhere I turn, my way is blocked, either by a line of mocking flames, or the burning corpse of a mighty tree. Ash floats down like snow, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. I turn this way and that, but there is no escape. Somewhere in the woods, I hear a child's voice calling, but I cannot make out the words.
Suddenly I find myself just outside the woods, staring in disbelief as the flames rise higher and higher, reaching out to the clouds until I am surprised that they too do not catch fire. Movement catches my eye, and there, standing only a few yards away, is he. The boy, from long ago. He is standing there with his arms wide open and straight out, his face a picture of sheer delight, so strange and surreal amid all the destruction. He gives me the impression that he is unaware of the raging inferno behind him. He appears to be laughing, but I cannot be sure, for his mouth and his chest do not move; only his hair moves slightly from the rush of hot wind coming from behind him.
I suddenly seem to see him much closer. Fire is dancing in his eyes, as though he is burning from within, but his face is still that of a joyful child. His green hair, so much the same color as the forest dying around him, appears as though it too is on fire. Fear wells inside me like an overturned bucket of acid; the boy and his forest, dying together.
I take a step toward him, intending to pounce him and beat the flames off of him and out of him with my paws, or drag him safely away from the raging inferno; anything to save him. But no sooner do I put my foot down that the ground beneath it turns to mud, and I am suddenly falling, down and away from the fire and the boy, down into a river, so deep and dark that it seems like I am swimming in ink; light doesn't even reflect off of it.
I try to paddle to the surface, but my paws have suddenly become so much heavier, as though each pad has turned to stone, each claw to lead. I cannot see or hear anything, and the darkness crushes me, pressing down painfully on my eyelids and creeping its way insidiously into my mouth and nose, until it seems as though I must choke on the darkness and smother. Spots dance before me like starbursts, and suddenly I am sitting up, the starbursts becoming real stars, my ears assaulted by all manner of innocent night noises. I wait for the sweat beaded upon my body to dissolve in the chill night air, and breathe slowly until the shaking stops. Always the same, but never relenting. I always manage to return to slumber, but not before wondering if it is my life, my time awake, that is the true nightmare.
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Posted: Fri Sep 19, 2008 7:23 pm
--[Through the Fire]-- So much has happened in so short a time. It makes my mind spin about like a newly fledged tornado whenever I try to piece it all together. It seems not so long ago that I was sneaking off to sing, with all of nature as my audience and not a single note reaching the ears of the undeserving general public. Then along comes Tolfitken to shatter the solace, but bringing with her a measure of hope, until it seemed as though once again my curse would forbid me from having friends.
But find her I did, and I suppose you could call it making up. We reached a certain understanding, parts of which I still do not fully understand. I know that she insists that she is capable of caring for herself, though she did appreciate the thought behind my insisting she remain out of harm's way. Though she seems to think that I have a choice in the matter of destiny and my having to follow each and every disaster to the very gates of Hell if there are beings to warn there. I know better, but I let her have her say; she deserves that much at least.
But looking back I wonder anew if her insistence that she can care for herself was the merest bluster. It was somewhere around a time where I found myself in a rather humiliating competition of which I would rather not go into detail about, but about that time, Tolfitken ran into someone she knew that in her eyes had done her harm; a namir named Obsidian. I sensed a fight was brewing and tried to intervene, but it ended up as a fight enforced by demonic fire. I had never been so frightened since that fateful day when the boy burned to death in the woods, but I just had to try and rescue Tolfitken. Self-reliance be damned; I would not lose her the same way, especially when it seemed as though the enemy was more tangible and more easily brought down than a forest fire.
Fool that I was. All I remember of what happened next was fire and smoke, choking ash and searing pain. I was thrown forcefully back, charred and burned and in pain like I had never felt before. I was crippled with the realization that this was probably how the boy had felt as he lay there burning. All that pain......
I vaguely remember the consequence of my actions; I believe I had shielded Tolfitken from much of the vengeful flame, but she had still been hurt, and now harbored twice the hatred for Obsidian, for not only were the past greviances left unresolved, but now she had earned Tolfitken's wrath for injuring me. Oh, we healed eventually, and had plenty of fun doing so, but I remember Obsidian returning at least once to try and set things right, and Tolfitken turning her away coldly. I remember that this Obsidian was sort of a surrogate mother to her, and though I did not blame Tolfitken for her not accepting the offered apology, it pained me to see a mother's plea rejected so, albeit a surrogate one who could not control the strange and evil power within her.
But now things seem stranger between us. I find myself liking Tolfitken now, most genuinely, but she distresses me so. I've found she has a strange tendency to hurt herself, on purpose, and does nothing to fix it. I have found her a few times hurting herself and standing there while I fuss and bandage her; I might as well be bandaging a tree that is bleeding sap for all the reaction I have gotten each time. I know that it is a part of who she is, but it still confuses and alarms me. In my eyes, one does not just harm themselves and stand there waiting for the blood to congeal. Perhaps it is her own way of coping with her inner demons, the way I drown mine out with song, but it makes such little sense to me to trade one torment for another, especially when the only outlet it seems to provide is one for vital but apparently unwanted blood.
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