Post by Bastille Amtrum on Jan 13, 2013 21:48:17 GMT -8
(this is the product of that creative bug that hits when you're supposed to be cleaning your room)
Blood it was everywhere. Not that that sickened her, no- no what caused that infuriating nausea was the muscle ripping pain coming from her hips. Holy fuck. Natural birth sucked- but where was the doctor? Crap, was she giving birth or miscarrying- people died from this shit. She was alone.
Oh fuck no. Blood just kept spilling- and that wasn't what concerned her. fearing death was natural and necessary- but, Bastille was still working on regaining it. So no, the blood pouring from her legs didn't bother her- and the pain- was well.....pain. No matter how you tried to enjoy it, it still fucking hurt. Turn you on, or off- mental control or not, it would still be there when you woke up. At least this type of physical pain.
Then the dream turned, and the pain dulled out. Bastille was thrown for a bit of a loop. Then, there it was, the doctor. THAT DAMNED BITCH. Sleeding sod of a doctor- where the hell was she five-....what was that in her hand. Dont you dare hand it to me!
"Here you are Bastille...congratulations, a bouncing baby boy"
Bastille looked down at it and saw something that made all the nausea of five seconds ago return with armies of their own. She fought back the urge to stab herself, and the ability was badly covered for as her brow arched high in a sarcastic manner.
It had the face of Amtrum (albeit from when she first met him and not recenetly- but the cord struck was still the same) with a cigarette in its mouth and rings on its hands. WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF DREAM WAS THIS?!
"Gods preserve, please tell me I am not chained to this fate- I SWEAR, I have changed for a better---...I'll give gifts on christmas, celebrate it heart and soul just please do not let me suffer this fate. I'll even take the forgotten dusty tomb stone and crows stealing all my affects, just please not this."
The baby jumped out of her arms and suddenly it was 10, 15, growing older and oh by god- please let this dream stop. Then there was another- looking like him and another that-
-------
"OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Bastille shouted into the dark.
"I'm ripping it out! I am so done with these absurd and completely unlikely, irrelevant and completely illogical representations of a completely uncertain or undesignated future. TIME IS NOT LINEAR IT'S FLUID." She shouted out throwing the covers off and probably onto her sleeping fiance.
She walked into the bathroom muttering odd things left and right and finally turned on the water.
"OH BLEEDING MOTHER MCCREED!" She seethed loudly. Nightmares. For Bastille, they never quite meant the same thing as others.
Blood it was everywhere. Not that that sickened her, no- no what caused that infuriating nausea was the muscle ripping pain coming from her hips. Holy fuck. Natural birth sucked- but where was the doctor? Crap, was she giving birth or miscarrying- people died from this shit. She was alone.
Oh fuck no. Blood just kept spilling- and that wasn't what concerned her. fearing death was natural and necessary- but, Bastille was still working on regaining it. So no, the blood pouring from her legs didn't bother her- and the pain- was well.....pain. No matter how you tried to enjoy it, it still fucking hurt. Turn you on, or off- mental control or not, it would still be there when you woke up. At least this type of physical pain.
Then the dream turned, and the pain dulled out. Bastille was thrown for a bit of a loop. Then, there it was, the doctor. THAT DAMNED BITCH. Sleeding sod of a doctor- where the hell was she five-....what was that in her hand. Dont you dare hand it to me!
"Here you are Bastille...congratulations, a bouncing baby boy"
Bastille looked down at it and saw something that made all the nausea of five seconds ago return with armies of their own. She fought back the urge to stab herself, and the ability was badly covered for as her brow arched high in a sarcastic manner.
It had the face of Amtrum (albeit from when she first met him and not recenetly- but the cord struck was still the same) with a cigarette in its mouth and rings on its hands. WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF DREAM WAS THIS?!
"Gods preserve, please tell me I am not chained to this fate- I SWEAR, I have changed for a better---...I'll give gifts on christmas, celebrate it heart and soul just please do not let me suffer this fate. I'll even take the forgotten dusty tomb stone and crows stealing all my affects, just please not this."
The baby jumped out of her arms and suddenly it was 10, 15, growing older and oh by god- please let this dream stop. Then there was another- looking like him and another that-
-------
"OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Bastille shouted into the dark.
"I'm ripping it out! I am so done with these absurd and completely unlikely, irrelevant and completely illogical representations of a completely uncertain or undesignated future. TIME IS NOT LINEAR IT'S FLUID." She shouted out throwing the covers off and probably onto her sleeping fiance.
She walked into the bathroom muttering odd things left and right and finally turned on the water.
"OH BLEEDING MOTHER MCCREED!" She seethed loudly. Nightmares. For Bastille, they never quite meant the same thing as others.
