Inquiring minds - Ruin post op
Ruin healing after his encounter with Seethe and Velius, his thoughts and emotions revolving around the artifact now in his chest.
Ruin blearily opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling above him. The light hurt his eyes, as he sat up weakly and looked around the blank holding room. He felt his forelegs shift, his body so much larger and heavier than before. Seeing them was still a shock, even after a couple of weeks. The first time was horrid, the fear and panic as he looked at his new form, hideous and ungainly. He hated what they'd done to him.
He slowly stood and moved to a nearby mirror, looking at himself with sunken, baggy eyes. He looked tired, as a rough hand moved up to touch the fresh scar in the center of his chest. He touched the skin around it, frowning as he dug a claw into his skin lightly, just enough to watch his dark purple blood ooze out around the small cut. Hm. Still real, he supposed. Yet it still felt off. He could feel it inside him, like a poison in his soul. He could feel the way the other soul raged against him, constantly vying for control, to be unleashed, to destroy, to kill and hurt those who had betrayed it, so long ago. He could feel the way it cried, and screamed.
The spirit of the beast was strong some days, filling him with pain and hate. Sometimes it was quiet, and his dreams weren't plagued with thoughts of watching the world burn. Sometimes he felt the way his skin burned, and his eyes stung, and this...power, would rise up inside of him, like a crashing wave. He could feel it on the edge of release, but if it got to strong he would black out. In those moments, he would feel afraid.
Falling into a dark void, he would sleep and let himself be at the mercy of the beast, feeling it rush forth with a sick glee. He never knew what happened after that, only that he'd wake up in pain... and feeling exhausted, as if he'd just been through a fight. Sometimes he woke up with new injuries, but he didn't know why.
He felt...artificial. Like some sort of host, just a vessel for this creature to spread its violence...he wanted to be more than that. He didn't want to feel like a tool for war. He was beyond that now....he had people he...genuinely cared for now. People who seemed to care for him. He wondered if this feeling would fade over time, or if he'd be like this till the end of time. A miserable weapon of hatred and destruction.
He sighed as he thought about all these things, staring into his own tired eyes, trying to see the monster behind them.
One day. He'd make it right. Perhaps....he could show this beast what it was like to trust, if he could learn it again, surely it could too.