The Akari girl had drifted, that much she knew. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t the nightmare she had expected, given the occurrences of the past couple of days. The funny thing with dreams, though, is that you never really know that they\'re dreams. Each and every time the girl was trapped inside of her mind, she reacted the exact way she would as though she were actually experiencing the events.
Storm was in a tent, late at night. She had to be awake early the next morning for a strict training regimen set up for her specifically by the Zalmric captain. What was his name again? L-something? The fact that she couldn’t remember bothered her more then the fact that she was in his tent. It sickened her the way she was given special treatment and it sickened her even more the reasons why.
In her dream she was lying on her back on a soft mattress, completely naked with a numb sense of shame that she was forced to get used to. With wide eyes the Akari bore into the ceiling of the tent, waiting. God, she fucking hated waiting. She could feel him—his body, lying near her. He was awake, drawing out the moment, trailing his fingers… Wandering icy blue eyes, hands on her throat, her chest. The girl could feel him in her mind and she craved it—his touch. His hate.
“Storm,” in response to the touch of Damien’s mind, she rocketed back into the land of the living, completely and utterly disgusted with herself. Storm didn’t want him to know anything about her, and thus walled of any lingering feelings or memories associated with her dream. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt it was futile, and somewhere in the back of her mind she wanted to be understood and longed to be comforted without having anyone know why she was hurting.
A dull pain thudded in her arm and she allowed herself to look down at the wound. It was repulsing and Storm forced herself to look away. Shakily standing, she walked to the edge of the lighthouse as she reached out with her mind to Damien. Her hair was a mess from tossing and turning but frankly she didn’t care. The Akari looked down, seeking his eyes, seeking something familiar and remotely friendly. And she hated how fucking needy she was when she was supposed to be angry with him.
The thought of the inconstancy of men sprang up in her mind, filling her eyes with black. Suddenly infuriated with a mixture of her past memories brought up by the dream and Damien’s failure to show up on time, she took an impulsive action. Storm vaulted off the roof, without much of a second thought, reaching out to bend shadows this time instead of the air itself in order to slow her fall. Lightly her feet touched the ground, mysterious and almost invisible silky threads of darkness swirling at her feet. As the energy dispersed and took some of hers as its own, she glared at the vampire in the face. Storm felt a strange and peculiar mixture of anger and longing for him. She spoke through her teeth.
“Where. Were. You?” she could feel fangs piercing her lips but she didn’t hold them back. Her eyes flickered between black, grey, brown, and red; sometimes blending the four into a strange hue without a name. There was so much the girl wanted to say, and all she could manage was a string of curses as she tried recounting for him what had happened in his absence. That stupid wolf. That stupid fucking wolf. She didn\'t even know if he caught anything at all, if he could understand a word of her story.
“Do you realize what a fucking terrible night I had, alone, infected with this fucking wolf spit?!” Storm was hardly making sense, she showed him her green tinged arm while she didn’t realize that her skin was growing purple. She balled her hair in her fists, the frustration from the dream she had to experience all over again and the fact that things never went the way she expected them to. The girl wanted to scream, and she managed to. In a quiet sort of way. She needed control, comfort, something. All she felt was cold and empty. A shell. She was a fucking shell and she felt herself losing it.
Cut it out, you’re so overdramatic. Storm felt herself bending shadows just for the hell of it. Even though that’s what he taught her. But she didn’t care right now.
((OOC: Sorry for the length. ^^; ))