Post by Ønsket on Feb 4, 2024 6:34:39 GMT -5
-Opening-
Member's Discord Name (include nicknames): Snowman, Snow
Password 1: Kazu's Kidnapper
Password 2: Miraculous Kouhai
Type: Non-Typed
-Basic Information-
Name: Ønsket
Age of Death: 36
Real Age/Age of Appearance: 43 / N/A
Birthday (Month/Day): N/A
Blood Type: Hollow Type
RP Sample (Optional):
People never described the cold correctly; never once in his life did they do so to him, one who had to endure it hour by hour in some manner. It wasn't truly a wash or wave; that implied it was something that existed. The cold wasn't something; it was the absence of something, anything. That fact was more painfully obvious to him now than ever before, simply because he was beyond cold.
He was freezing.
He felt his cold blood pulse out of his fingers, his vessels constricting to the point of blueness, his blood not fighting the cold but running from it. He knew it was so, even if he couldn't see through his thick winter gloves. But nevertheless, he soldiered on, spurred on by something he knew was both primal and modern.
The urge to live, to claw and survive no matter what, pulsed through his half-frozen veins. That flickering sensation of hope and fear was the only thing making his sore body shiver ever more. That simple urge capable of fighting an uphill battle against the frost.
It was everything he could want in life.
-Appearance-
{Hollowness Redefined}
Base Hollow Form:
Gillian Form:
Adjucha Form:
Height/Weight: 7'9 Feet / 235 Ibs
Vasto Lorde Form:
Base Hollow Form:
Height/Weight: 4'9 Feet / 120 Ibs
Physical Description:
The Hollow ranges about the size of a very large dog, maybe even an average wolf. But otherwise, it's neither of those in limb shape nor color. It holds four prominently black horse-shaped legs with cyan streaks. Those said streaks go along its hoof-shaped digits, up its ankles, and then all end around each of its knees. The main black body itself lacks these streaks. However, its heartless hole does hold a flower-like, cracked design of the same cyan colour radiating from the pit. The flesh also looks impossibly starved.
The mask and face hold some features of a canine themselves, such as an elongated mouth, a snout, and so on. But the sides extend forward with two Buck-like horns that curve outward. The animalistic features on the mask, too, mainly pure white. Though it certainly seems a bit lighter than that, maybe even shimmering glare at times.
So, in simple terms, it looks more like a disfigured, starved wolf and deer chimaera than a humanoid.
Gillian Form:
Height/Weight: 15'9 Feet / 930 Ibs
Physical Description:
The Gillian is shorter than average, barely towering some short buildings, and seemingly lighter in weight too. It also has an almost sickly aura about it, as if it were frozen in rot or starvation. But despite that strange sensation, it's fully capable of stumbling around or so, as all Gillians do. The body itself is, most oddly, a dark tinge of cyan instead of the usual black. It's quite a strong contrast from the previous form's cyan colour.
The new colour itself imitates the look of a glacier in the night in some way. Though the constant warmth it holds doesn't aid in this task, alongside the mask, after all, most glaciers didn't have a pure white chimeric mask of a dog and deer attached to them. The mask itself looks more deer-like than a dog after this evolution. It looked dumbed down to some degree, too. The shroud of many voices and wills in its evolution clouds the majority of its intellect. But the hunger remains within those dot eyes.
The new colour itself imitates the look of a glacier in the night in some way. Though the constant warmth it holds doesn't aid in this task, alongside the mask, after all, most glaciers didn't have a pure white chimeric mask of a dog and deer attached to them. The mask itself looks more deer-like than a dog after this evolution. It looked dumbed down to some degree, too. The shroud of many voices and wills in its evolution clouds the majority of its intellect. But the hunger remains within those dot eyes.
Height/Weight: 7'9 Feet / 235 Ibs
Physical Description:
The Adjucha bears the form of a much more humanoid shape now. The skin upon said shape is pale—far paler than it really should be. The shapes of its ribs are easy to spot, too, despite the newly sculpted muscles upon its now pure white form. It had also lost much of its already meager Gillian height, replacing it with much of the same for its stage of evolution. The previous formations of cyan alongside that are gone, merely concentrated upon the pit where his heart once resided. But the chill deep within only spreads further. Though it's quite hard to tell considering how much heat it gives off now, the warmth itself is comparable to that of a blazing furnace at this point. Even then, such heat doesn't breach his essence in any meaningful way; his flesh is and will still be painfully cold to him and only him. But despite that, the now fully-shaped deer skull remains indifferent, once predatory eyes full of hunger full of the same. But perchance, a slither of it falls through even then to those unfortunate moments.
Height/Weight: 5'9 Feet / 125 Ibs
Physical Description:
The apex of Hollow Society, becoming one, is an arduous, unfair, and cruel ladder towards perfection. But nevertheless, it is worth it for those that climb and climb, even if the chances are null. So, it's strange to see one look mildly starved instead of healthy. Though this is hollow, No, Ønsket has proven himself exceptional amongst his race. Their blackened and muscular limbs carry a certain swagger to reflect this. After all, it was practically safe from all except a few creatures. The signature patchwork of cyan lines no longer marred his ribbed form, seemingly replaced by pitch black colours instead. The skull mask, on the other hand, became more refined. The horns are now small, curved back, and very petite. It could almost distract from his doeish ears sticking out of the sides, little cute flickering things that betrayed the reality of its mass genocide kill count. The mask itself looked like a... well, mask. The sight of a maw beneath it is possible, too. So, it likely held a human face beneath. It definitely held the rough shape of one, despite the tail and strange number of digits per limb. It also held a cloth to cover itself up. For whatever reason, possibly to hide the sunken skin of its stomach. It definitely looked less starved than previous iterations; nevertheless, it still looks unfed. Though, despite that, there's no mistaking its power, even if its eyes no longer shine with indifferent hunger.
-Personality-
{Hollow Will}
• Oneself
Dislikes:
• The Space
- Too many angles, too much exposure, and most importantly, a primal feeling of discontent, perhaps dread. The sensation is likely connected to its past life. Though it hasn't figured out that part yet, Either way, it doesn't like open spaces.
• The Cold
- It's always cold in some capacity, no matter the amount of heat it selfishly consumes. The sensation is ingrained to always be unpleasant, no matter how little or how much. But it has learned to deal with it... Somehow.
• The Wet
- The feeling of droplets of liquid upon it is and will never be a welcome one. Though, not because such things could freeze upon him. It physically could not freeze with how warm his body operates constantly. But it can evaporate, ensuring his soul's forever frosting sensation wouldn't remain illusionary for long.
• The Silence
- Silence always did mix well with it, allowing it to stalk humans, hollows, and foods alike, even enabling its escape at times. But in the end, no matter how useful, it would rather not be in it for too long. The retrospection it brings isn't the most productive thing for its goals.
• The Dark
- It doesn't dislike the dark itself, no, not really. It dislikes how much it hides from it and others, even if it uses them to its own advantage. But even then, it never really liked deception. Though, in the face of death, one has to adapt.
• The Choice
- It remembers being selfless once when it was alive. Those soft fragments of recollection were a hindering piece of doubt, a constant reminder of what it had become in the end. But it still commits to the feast anyway, even if it doesn't particularly enjoy the taste of children.
Likes:
• The Passionate
- Passion burns wonderfully bright, almost blindly. But it can see through it, and it finds it beautiful for how it can motivate and push oneself. It finds it quite interesting in many ways and a proper virtue. Though, perchance, it just likes the struggle that is borne with such a blaze.
• The Determined
- Sometimes stubborn, sometimes foolish. It sees something to respect in that all the same. For one to be unswayed no matter what the outside factors say otherwise, to continue when all seems lost, thrashing, biting, and clawing to the end. It's a testament to the indomitable spirit that resides within to struggle and, thusly, emerge stronger on the other side.
• The Honest
• The Honest
- There's something endearing to the honest and bold, at least to it. To be brave to say without play and remain obviously stalwart. Though it likes them more for their reliability and predicatability, after all, there's nothing to be mistaken about them, nothing more to worry about, and no unknown variable to ponder. They're merely what they say they are... Too bad few of them exist.
• The Underdog
- Its like of them ties to the determined in a way. But they still like them in their own distinct fashion. There's an enjoyment to be had watching something smaller than nothing try, struggling to the brink so many times. It doesn't matter if they succeeded or not. After all, at least they tried, and sometimes that's all that was needed.
• The Frost
• The Frost
- The cold is an ever-consuming force. But in its null destruction, it leaves a fire to survive the struggle. The Hollow dislikes the cold. But in the end, it respects it all the same, treating it no different than the sun, air, or water. One cannot grow without a never-ending struggle, and the cold provides it in spades. So, it sees it more as an objective to overcome—a painful one. Though important all the same.
Flaws:
• The Outer
• The Outer
- The mind plays tricks, some real and some fake. It doesn't help that its body is both a starving pit and an endless hole of cold. The two factors alone are driving some marbles loose, maybe even more if we consider more factors. But if you cared to ask the Hollow, they wouldn't consider it much of a problem.
• The Middle
- The Hollow is always cold... Sense-wise. But physically? They could boil water at times with how warm their body can get with their gluttony. Besides the usual issues of feeling like you're freezing to death constantly, it gets quite hard to tell if you're burning alive or not if you only feel different variations of cold. That, and they aren't fireproof.
• The Inner
- They knew the orders of a good person—a set of instructions, if you will. The Hollow knows them innately, as if the person they were struggled at times with the concept and thusly memorised them to their core, ingraining deeply into their soul. But just because they know the guide doesn't make them stop; morals doesn't stop their hunger, and it doesn't fill the empty pain of heat and fullness. The core memory only brings them to ponder at times with their simplistic intellect. The thoughts of who they were a soft cloud in their soul, alongside the cold.
Habits:
• The Clicks
- The Hollow clicks their jaws at times, sometimes even loudly grinding them in the silence of a feast. It's a certain habit to break up the silence, which also aids in chewing at times. Though it mostly does it in cold darkness whenever there's nothing around. So, it could be described as a nervous tick in a way.
• The Scans
- The Hollow displays an animalistic habit of looking around while chewing flesh and bone, passively searching for anything of note as it swallows and gurgles blood down its maw. It certainly doesn't make it seem more human than an animal. But to be better safe than sorry, as they say.
• The Shivers
- The Hollow is always in a state of motion, shivering here and there throughout the day and night. It's certainly a futile attempt to fight against the freezing sensation pulsating from its core. Though it always did like to struggle against it anyway.
- The Hollow is always in a state of motion, shivering here and there throughout the day and night. It's certainly a futile attempt to fight against the freezing sensation pulsating from its core. Though it always did like to struggle against it anyway.
Fears:
• Starvation
- Obvious enough, is it not? Well, it isn't that simple. The body starves in more ways than one, can it not? It fears more than going hungry. It fears the starvation of heat and light. To be left alone, blind, and shivering. Ironic, is it not? The power of its salvation is the pain it fears most, bringing it upon others to feed itself those same things it lacks.
• Oneself
- The man it once was is dead, likely frozen to the core, all things considered. Ønsket knew it was so and what it is now in some way. Though the folklore hasn't been the most accurate so far, even then, it was all it really had for now. So, it was innately afraid of death. Not the physical or spiritual. It was more frightened of losing itself in some way. It wasn't a monster or a human. It couldn't be so easily defined. What is it now, then? Well, it didn't know. But it didn't want to lose that.
Goals:
• True Warmth
• True Warmth
- The fantasy of finding a flame that could possibly sate their freezing soul. The desire itself strong enough to the point that it will leave fire-centered Hollows alive, hoping that they gain the strength to bring heat back to its core.
• True Stasis
• True Stasis
- But to survive such a heated exchange, it would require much, much more strength. The Hollow would not accept death for a moment of bliss. The trade would be unfair, unjust, and unbalanced! So, it will claw, kill, and eat to gain the strength to be eternal, for no other reason than to be warm for the rest of eternity, trapped in blissful stasis. It deserves that much; after all, did it not suffer enough?
• True Life
- No more deception, no more paranioa, no more hiding, no more cowardice, no more surviving, no more changing, and no more humanity. It will live and try to do so in pleasure forever. It does not need to rule or control. After all, it has all it wants now.
Itself, no hunger or its past. But just itself, perfected to the point where no struggle will touch it.
Alignment: True Neutral
Overall Personality:
The Base Hollow, while still animalistic, is still clever and retrospective in some manner. They don't hold grudges, preferring wise thinking to avoid death. But if they can indulge, they indulge without question, even if part them doesn't quite find it right. How so? It doesn't know itself; its past memories are still a bit buried under a haze of cold death. Though it still effects the animalistic Hollow in some way, after all, it's quite tough to forget something so ingrained in their mind.
The Gillian transformation, too, keeps up with these strange psychological traits. It's dull, yes, but more so in an emotional manner. It shambles here and there, seemingly in a depressive state. But nevertheless, a Gillian is still a Gillian. The hurricane-like spiritual inners preclude the violence they can exude at a moment's notice. Though one would find it far tamer than the usual Gillian, why so? Well, it's hard for the lesser souls to keep willful under the freezing weight of one of them.
The Adjucha evolution sheds the abnormalities in some way, becoming indifferent and cold on the outside like some Hollows. The soul also reflected this; after all, it had become a melting pot of several souls after the evoultion. The ones that proved capable of withstanding the frost of one, of course, melded with the source of their strife in evolution. The required features needed to endure such things make them quite the tolerant thing. But even then, it's still a chaotic entity, even if it seems stable and cold. One must wonder, though, whether it truly is different now.
The Vasto Lorde is... relaxed. The Gillian and Adjucha stages held a certain tenseness to them, a weight that never seemed to leave them. But that weight seemed gone, instead replaced by a shining beacon of resolve. Whatever it had to deal with in the past seemingly no longer haunted it. Maybe for the worst for the realms.
The Gillian transformation, too, keeps up with these strange psychological traits. It's dull, yes, but more so in an emotional manner. It shambles here and there, seemingly in a depressive state. But nevertheless, a Gillian is still a Gillian. The hurricane-like spiritual inners preclude the violence they can exude at a moment's notice. Though one would find it far tamer than the usual Gillian, why so? Well, it's hard for the lesser souls to keep willful under the freezing weight of one of them.
The Adjucha evolution sheds the abnormalities in some way, becoming indifferent and cold on the outside like some Hollows. The soul also reflected this; after all, it had become a melting pot of several souls after the evoultion. The ones that proved capable of withstanding the frost of one, of course, melded with the source of their strife in evolution. The required features needed to endure such things make them quite the tolerant thing. But even then, it's still a chaotic entity, even if it seems stable and cold. One must wonder, though, whether it truly is different now.
The Vasto Lorde is... relaxed. The Gillian and Adjucha stages held a certain tenseness to them, a weight that never seemed to leave them. But that weight seemed gone, instead replaced by a shining beacon of resolve. Whatever it had to deal with in the past seemingly no longer haunted it. Maybe for the worst for the realms.
-Powers-
{Hollowed Strength}
Fighting Style:
The Hollow is much more of a generalist than a specialist, never seemingly able to evolve fully in one aspect. They are tough-ish and fast-ish at times. Though, even then, it pales in comparison to those that encompass the words tough and fast. They aren't that reactive nor that intelligent either, relying more on instinct or tricks than pure aptitude for the former two. It's Hollow ability reflected this too, lacking much power for raw utility. It likely wouldn't make a difference if it weren't used tactfully.
Technique Name: Varmud (Heat Out)
Class: 7-0
Technique Type: Hollow Custom Technique
Technique Element: Fire
Usable By: Hollows that have learned Sult
Technique Description and Effects: The contained heat within the Hollow is released in a wave or shot of Reiastu! The power depends on how much heat Sult has gathered and the amount of Reiatsu used in the technique. The shape also cannot be manipulated after it has left the Hollow's maw.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): See the above.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, Repercussions for Use, etc.): 25 Reiastu cost and increasing alongside effects. The Hollow themselves are not immune to flames unless otherwise stated.
Technique Name: Lyn (Flash)
Class: 8
Technique Type: Hollow Custom Technique
Technique Element: Light
Usable By: Hollows that have learned Sult
Technique Description and Effects: The Hollow must focus the absorbed light on their mask or any part of them. Then release it similarly to a flashbang. The flow of Reiastu makes this technique far more practical with it than without it.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): See the above.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, Repercussions for Use, etc.): 15 Reiastu cost and increasing alongside effects. The Hollow is not immune to being blinded themselves unless otherwise stated.
Fighting Style:
The Hollow is much more of a generalist than a specialist, never seemingly able to evolve fully in one aspect. They are tough-ish and fast-ish at times. Though, even then, it pales in comparison to those that encompass the words tough and fast. They aren't that reactive nor that intelligent either, relying more on instinct or tricks than pure aptitude for the former two. It's Hollow ability reflected this too, lacking much power for raw utility. It likely wouldn't make a difference if it weren't used tactfully.
The Hollow, in other words, was a jack of all trades and a master of none. But the monsterous creature does hold one thing above all else. The raw instinct to remain active, to fight off the cold, to survive, and to thrive despite the memories of its humanity haunting it.
The Hollow, Ønsket even, wouldn't die without clawing away while doing so.
That urge was more than enough to fight off its eternal hunger if it meant a brighter and warmer day. That urge alone is what drove it to hide in the shadows, despite its discomfort in such a situation without light. That urge alone drove it to take hits if it meant victory, channelling it to take another and another despite its body's nature. That urge alone would make it sane, even if for a moment, to destroy the ideals of its humanity if it meant just one more day of preserved existence.
It will adapt if it means surviving. It will be cruel if it means another day of living. It will be monsterous and dishonourable, even if it means it can claw away or at for another second longer.
It was, simply, a testiment. To what? It didn't care. That's for whoever denied its life to figure out.
Overall Theme:
A slow crawl towards the inevitable. Yet, never slow enough. But for those that faced it? A chaotic and changing fire that wouldn't let itself fade out.
A slow crawl towards the inevitable. Yet, never slow enough. But for those that faced it? A chaotic and changing fire that wouldn't let itself fade out.
Hollow Techniques:
Technique Name: Sult (Hunger)
Class: 8-0
Technique Type: Hollow Custom Technique
Technique Element: Ice
Technique Element: Ice
Usable By: Starving Hollows
Technique Description and Effects: The Hollow manifests a deep blue-coloured orb that hovers around itself. This floating orb is also fully controllable. One could draw similarities to the Light Orb technique or even the Reiastue Warmth technique at this point, and it would be understandable and perhaps reasonable. But nevertheless, it's quite the opposite of both. The Orb of Sult slowly drains away light and heat in a radius around it, consuming both without end or pause.
Where does the energy go when it is consumed? Well, to the Hollow, of course, and perchance elsewhere. Either way, absolute abscence is attempted near the Orb of Sult.
The Orbs of Sult can also increase or decrease in size. The larger sizes enable a faster rate of gathering heat and light at a more inefficient cost; for the smaller sizes, the opposite happens: they are more efficient but don't gather as fast as the larger sizes.
The radius of the Orbs of Sult absorbs a one-foot area at a beginner level. But when complete mastery is achieved, a radius of five feet is accessible. The increase of the user's Class doubles the base range of the Orbs of Sult per level, meaning total mastery of Sult at Class 8/7/6 enables a range of 5/10/15 feet around the ball, respectively.
The difference between a Class 0 and a Class 8 Orb of Sult is night and day. Literally, in this case, since a class 0 Orb of Sult can liquify the oxygen in the air with its coldness and bring total blackness to an enclosed room. Class 8, on the other hand, would require a few or so hours to drop an enclosed room to below 0°C. However, freezing times depend on the mastery of the Orbs of Sult technique and can be faster or slower depending on the Hollow's formation. But generally, a weak Orb of Sult made by a biginner would drop the temperature around it by 1°C per ten minutes. The body of the Hollow, in consquence to the gathering, would heat up by 1°C per ten minutes too. A masterfully made Orb of Sult itself drains 1°C every minute.
The Hollow can use this technique several times, summoning more than one Orb of Sult. But three Orbs of Sult prove to be difficult for a Class 8 without issue if they aren't masters; in the later case, six is the hard limit for Class 8. The limit will increase by three with each Class promotion; however, it will cap at 30 when Class 0 is reached. The final Class promotion to 0 itself rewards a free and final bonus of three Orbs of Sult to the control limit.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): The Hollow must focus a portion of their hunger into an Orb of Reiastu, projecting the eternal curse of the Hollow race into 'physical' form. The energy consumed itself must go somewhere. So, it typically ends up inside the Hollow.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, Repercussions for Use, etc.): The Hollow is subject to overheating if they're not careful, and even combusting into flame if they're reckless. They may also begin to glow if they absorb enough light, such a thing proving fatal to any level of stealth. The maintenance of several orbs also requires some level of skill.
(This skill can be reworked to instantly drop the temperature at the cost of reiatsu if it proves too complicated. The following heat/light costs are purely for fluff. I'm fine if any of these abilities have to be reworked completely.)
(This skill can be reworked to instantly drop the temperature at the cost of reiatsu if it proves too complicated. The following heat/light costs are purely for fluff. I'm fine if any of these abilities have to be reworked completely.)
Technique Name: Varmud (Heat Out)
Class: 7-0
Technique Type: Hollow Custom Technique
Technique Element: Fire
Usable By: Hollows that have learned Sult
Technique Description and Effects: The contained heat within the Hollow is released in a wave or shot of Reiastu! The power depends on how much heat Sult has gathered and the amount of Reiatsu used in the technique. The shape also cannot be manipulated after it has left the Hollow's maw.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): See the above.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, Repercussions for Use, etc.): 25 Reiastu cost and increasing alongside effects. The Hollow themselves are not immune to flames unless otherwise stated.
Technique Name: Lyn (Flash)
Class: 8
Technique Type: Hollow Custom Technique
Technique Element: Light
Usable By: Hollows that have learned Sult
Technique Description and Effects: The Hollow must focus the absorbed light on their mask or any part of them. Then release it similarly to a flashbang. The flow of Reiastu makes this technique far more practical with it than without it.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): See the above.
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, Repercussions for Use, etc.): 15 Reiastu cost and increasing alongside effects. The Hollow is not immune to being blinded themselves unless otherwise stated.
Other Techniques:
Technique Name: Ulcera (Ulcer)
Class: 7
Technique Type: Stepping
Usable By: Hollows (Not Arrancar)
Technique Description and Effects: This technique is a basic stale for a Hollow's ability to slide in and out of the valley of screams at will when it is hunting or stalking prey. By gliding in and out of the space used by techniques like garganta or descorrer, a hollow can get around quickly. This technique operates similarly to a stepping technique, but only moves at 5x the user's speed. However, the user weaves through rips in the fabric of whatever world they are in, and as such the hollows exits, and then re-enters at the destination, Hollows do not lose awareness of the world as they move through an Ulcera, and can return to the material world mid-step in response to a threat or opportunity. This technique does not take up a Technique slot.
How to use technique (How is it activated?): See Above
Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc) Costs 75 reiatsu per step.
Made By: Ajora
-History-
{Hollow Origins}
Somewhere deep within the frozen wastes, a cold heart stirred.
Birthplace: Greenland.
Current Residence: Wandering.
Memorable Figures:
The Frost.
The Past Self.
The Past Self.
History:
She liked to believe her father was a superhero, even if she could see the cracks at times. But only now, under his dissatisfied gaze, did she see the eyes of a man—one without the infinite patience of her beloved characters.
"Why did you do it?"
The most pressing matter of the day, was it not? But even so, not a word could slip past her lips. The lump in her throat ensured so, no matter what childish frustration and helplessness bubbled. Though, despite her silence, her father softened his gaze with a sigh. The recollection of something shimmering within those eyes, something hefty enough to turn the giant's judging gaze to dust.
"I should've told you of their worth; maybe then you wouldn't have done something so..."
There's another sigh, another conversation without needing her input. She was fine with it if her newly minted wish to know what she had broken to draw his anger—well, what she couldn't know nor see specifically.
They were old goggles, seemingly rusted beyond repair. The recently cracked lenses only add to their aura of non-functionality. But nevertheless, it invoked such deep emotions from her father whenever he was around it, seemingly entrancing him in some sort of spell. Though it didn't last long, she knew whatever her father experienced wasn't the most pleasant.
She didn't like what it was doing. So she threw it out onto the snow, intent on leaving it to rust even more, enacting one of those childish fantasies of hers. But sadly, her father caught her in the act of the throw.
She didn't think she could see the gentle giant make such a face. She also didn't think she would ever forget it for the rest of her life. But at least he was gentle now, somehow.
Parents were weird like that.
"These goggles belonged to my brother."
Her father mouthed it out gently and full of nostalgia, snapping her mind back to the moment. She had never heard of such a thing as her father's brother, a curiousity she always held in some way. He wasn't quite skilled at evading her questions that way. So, she could tell he didn't like to linger on it... For whatever reason, he never partakes much talk about his bloodline, as if he were trying to bury it much like her toys whenever Lio decided to prowl. She didn't understand the desire to do so, but then again, she was nine.
"He was... strange, much like you. But that didn't take away from him. I think it added to him, really."
Strange, much like her. She already felt a kinship form, one made of delusion and distorted images. But even then, it is a nice one to have.
"Despite his age, he always held an eccentricity to him. He didn't really scream. But he wasn't silent, either. He was monotone and had some trouble making faces. But he eventually grew out of it, much like me."
"These goggles, one you so casually threw away, he loved them to death," her father continued, his voice tinged with a fondness only known to her and her mom. The surprise and interest allowed the final part of his previous words to slip past her mind, letting them be forgotten.
"They were his prized possession, a gift from our grandfather. He wore them everywhere, even when it wasn't even day or snowing."
She was like a cat, enraptured by his words like a ball of wool. After all, this was practically the first time he had ever talked about his family.
"He said he liked the feel of them—a perfect fit, too. But the former alone was rare in his normally stale and upfront attitude."
He would stop; a familiar haze covered his eyes. Though she could've been imagining it, she was too used to the sight to think of it as a delusion. He was away for a moment, thinking. She wouldn't interrupt him; he never liked her doing so. Though, thankfully for her growing curiosity, he would soon begin to talk in a slowed manner.
"These goggles... are the last thing I have of him."
The concept of death is certainly a meloncholic topic for a child, and maybe that's why he avoided speaking about his family. The innocence of a child was precious, after all. But now? In this moment, he couldn't bring himself to stop speaking.
"A hail storm was predicted, and it did come true. Though they didn't mention the record-low temperatures," he paused, seemingly recollecting himself as he fidgeted with the cracked and rusted goggles.
"He always did liked the cold, obsessed with it plenty. He used to take freezing baths and rest in snow at times. I think it was the day we found him half frozen on a camping field trip that started the interest. He said it connected him to something..."
There's another moment of pause, a moment of steeling, before he continues again. She couldn't bring herself to breathe it in, afraid a little gust of puff would interrupt the burly man.
"He grew more skilled at surviving such harsh conditions, and despite his strangeness. He was worth his weight in money when it came to traversing and surviving the frost, or so he called it."
The man paused again, his eyes shimmering under his reflection. She couldn't see such thoughts; even then, she hoped her eyes would give her the answers if she stared hard enough. The girl was half right in that way. After all, the man couldn't sulk seeing the light of his life's eyes glow with such interest.
It almost made him forget the state of his goggles, almost.
"Maybe he found what he was looking for under all that cold..."
She could only stare in silence as he pocketed the goggles. The night softly whispering away in the background as her father slowly recovered...
She liked to believe her father was a superhero, even if she could see the cracks at times. But only now, under his dissatisfied gaze, did she see the eyes of a man—one without the infinite patience of her beloved characters.
"Why did you do it?"
The most pressing matter of the day, was it not? But even so, not a word could slip past her lips. The lump in her throat ensured so, no matter what childish frustration and helplessness bubbled. Though, despite her silence, her father softened his gaze with a sigh. The recollection of something shimmering within those eyes, something hefty enough to turn the giant's judging gaze to dust.
"I should've told you of their worth; maybe then you wouldn't have done something so..."
There's another sigh, another conversation without needing her input. She was fine with it if her newly minted wish to know what she had broken to draw his anger—well, what she couldn't know nor see specifically.
They were old goggles, seemingly rusted beyond repair. The recently cracked lenses only add to their aura of non-functionality. But nevertheless, it invoked such deep emotions from her father whenever he was around it, seemingly entrancing him in some sort of spell. Though it didn't last long, she knew whatever her father experienced wasn't the most pleasant.
She didn't like what it was doing. So she threw it out onto the snow, intent on leaving it to rust even more, enacting one of those childish fantasies of hers. But sadly, her father caught her in the act of the throw.
She didn't think she could see the gentle giant make such a face. She also didn't think she would ever forget it for the rest of her life. But at least he was gentle now, somehow.
Parents were weird like that.
"These goggles belonged to my brother."
Her father mouthed it out gently and full of nostalgia, snapping her mind back to the moment. She had never heard of such a thing as her father's brother, a curiousity she always held in some way. He wasn't quite skilled at evading her questions that way. So, she could tell he didn't like to linger on it... For whatever reason, he never partakes much talk about his bloodline, as if he were trying to bury it much like her toys whenever Lio decided to prowl. She didn't understand the desire to do so, but then again, she was nine.
"He was... strange, much like you. But that didn't take away from him. I think it added to him, really."
Strange, much like her. She already felt a kinship form, one made of delusion and distorted images. But even then, it is a nice one to have.
"Despite his age, he always held an eccentricity to him. He didn't really scream. But he wasn't silent, either. He was monotone and had some trouble making faces. But he eventually grew out of it, much like me."
"These goggles, one you so casually threw away, he loved them to death," her father continued, his voice tinged with a fondness only known to her and her mom. The surprise and interest allowed the final part of his previous words to slip past her mind, letting them be forgotten.
"They were his prized possession, a gift from our grandfather. He wore them everywhere, even when it wasn't even day or snowing."
She was like a cat, enraptured by his words like a ball of wool. After all, this was practically the first time he had ever talked about his family.
"He said he liked the feel of them—a perfect fit, too. But the former alone was rare in his normally stale and upfront attitude."
He would stop; a familiar haze covered his eyes. Though she could've been imagining it, she was too used to the sight to think of it as a delusion. He was away for a moment, thinking. She wouldn't interrupt him; he never liked her doing so. Though, thankfully for her growing curiosity, he would soon begin to talk in a slowed manner.
"These goggles... are the last thing I have of him."
The concept of death is certainly a meloncholic topic for a child, and maybe that's why he avoided speaking about his family. The innocence of a child was precious, after all. But now? In this moment, he couldn't bring himself to stop speaking.
"A hail storm was predicted, and it did come true. Though they didn't mention the record-low temperatures," he paused, seemingly recollecting himself as he fidgeted with the cracked and rusted goggles.
"He always did liked the cold, obsessed with it plenty. He used to take freezing baths and rest in snow at times. I think it was the day we found him half frozen on a camping field trip that started the interest. He said it connected him to something..."
There's another moment of pause, a moment of steeling, before he continues again. She couldn't bring herself to breathe it in, afraid a little gust of puff would interrupt the burly man.
"He grew more skilled at surviving such harsh conditions, and despite his strangeness. He was worth his weight in money when it came to traversing and surviving the frost, or so he called it."
The man paused again, his eyes shimmering under his reflection. She couldn't see such thoughts; even then, she hoped her eyes would give her the answers if she stared hard enough. The girl was half right in that way. After all, the man couldn't sulk seeing the light of his life's eyes glow with such interest.
It almost made him forget the state of his goggles, almost.
"Maybe he found what he was looking for under all that cold..."
She could only stare in silence as he pocketed the goggles. The night softly whispering away in the background as her father slowly recovered...
Somewhere deep within the frozen wastes, a cold heart stirred.
