Crimson

Crimson Dartex
Any pronouns
writer/artist/cosplayer
I'm a role player, open to RP at almost any time.

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If you ask me why I am here, the only answer I will be able to give you will be that the night was dark and endless and full of promise. I wanted to stick around and hear all the secrets the night had to tell. How was I supposed to know that you would be doing the same thing?

Soldiers in a strange land, just passing through. Exiles and dearly loved children, as we once were.

You made me rough and angry. You sent cracks through my bones and made my edges jagged and sharp. This did not make me kind. I made myself kind when I spent every night sanding down my edges. I made myself smooth and clean and wrapped my broken shards in soft wool and cotton. What you put me through did not make me who I am. I crafted my identity with my own hands, you just made it harder for me.

As much as I would love to grow into the woods, to disappear into the mist and dirt and moss and become one with the trees and ferns, I have work to do. I have things to be and people to meet. I have nations to raise and burn. I have heads to sever and blood to spill as well as wounds to mend and bones to heal. I have much to do, so I will have to decline the generous offer the forest has given me.

The difference between poison and medicine, pain and pleasure, drought and flood, is the amount. A drop of blood can raise the dead, but a flood of it will only make more bodies.

And suddenly, the world had moved on without me. I was no longer a person of position or strength. Noone feared my power nor cursed my name. Those who knew me had grown up and moved on. I was free, but being free comes with the price of a terrible, horrible, wretched loneliness. And for a moment, I wanted to go back into my little cage and sing songs again. But I couldn't go back, for I had destroyed that path a long time ago, not knowing that the consequences of burning my past was having to pave my own future.