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( cr chart )
 | Burning everything I know Desperate for a change Crashing down the ancient roads Past our yesterday Maybe there is hunger in my blood Screaming out loud for what I want See me running full speed at it Shattering, collide Call it post-traumatic Now it's do or die Feeding frenzy is in my brain I'm hopeful every day I gotta get it while we are still young enough to break We're finally not afraid Maybe there is hunger in my blood Screaming out loud for what I want See me running full speed at it Shattering, collide Call me post-traumatic Now it's do or die Coming after tiny fractures Coming after tiny fractures See me running full speed at it Coming after tiny fractures Call me post-traumatic What comes after Tiny fractures |
| ◆ THE DRIFTER ◆ |
| A Searcher, aspiring to find a cure. |
| Silent, adaptable, and deathly ill, the Drifter has braved countless dangers without faltering, or even speaking aloud. Their hunt for a cure to their sickness has brought them through innumerable obstacles of every sort, up to and including their own death at the hands of their illness and at those creatures that stand in their way. Aided by the silent jackal god, they would learn to get up from even death each time, persevering past the point where anyone else would have given up. They have been battered and broken more times than they can count, hounded at all times by the spectral appearances of the Immortal Cell, Judgment, that festers in their organs and eats away at their health from the inside out. They still dream of its toxic influence, and they continue to cough up their own blood when their trials grow particularly difficult. Despite that, they do not give up. As long as they can stand on their own two feet, they will endure and fight through whatever needs fighting in order to reach the end of their journey. They had presumed that the destruction of the Immortal Cell had ended their long struggle with sickness - and ended it with death, as well as the jackal god's vision that would promise the world's return to health and prosperity. But when they awoke on the archipelago of LifeAftr, such proved not to be the case at all...and even more perplexing, there would be innumerable others willing to not only tolerate the Drifter's presence, but accept them as something almost like an ally. As the Drifter has struggled to remain detached, in the tradition of a nomadic warrior such as themself, they have finally come to accept that this resolve will inevitably end in failure. Logistically and practically, it would never have been possible, and the Drifter has been forced to confront the simple fact that they have not avoided becoming attached; that they, in fact, care a great deal for everyone they have encountered, and are willing to pour everything they are into protecting them. |
∴ canon | ₪ cross-canon | ♥ friend | ▲ complicated | ⩺ worry | ✔ trusted | |||
| ✘ dislike | ✼ protect | ¿ unknown | ★ acquaintance | ◊ debt | ❖ sickness | |||
| ⋙ feared | ϟ threat | ⩕ helpful | 〷 terminate | ✧ neutral | ❱ avoid | |||
| ⍚ drifter | ⅄ kind | ⑊ kindred | ∏ worship |
seto ◆ fragile dreams
₪ - ⩺ - ✼ - ★ - ⩕ - ⅄
[artist]
Turn the page and start to write
The world won't wait for procrastination
You'll never bleed if you never fight
But how much worth the pain is elation?
Part the sea and release the skies
The future's brighter than you'll ever know
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
Follow through in the face of ire
Turn away from feigned admiration
Define the rules by a state of mind
Don't give in to cheap imitation
Change the scene to a better line
We need it more than you'll ever know
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
If you ever frame your mind and see it all in another light
It is still strange, to know people who do not recognize them for what they are, who call the color of their skin "pretty" and think they have done nothing worth agitating them over.
Perhaps, in time, he will change his mind.