too old to be so shy [flash]
Feb 19, 2015 18:31:18 GMT -5
Post by jake on Feb 19, 2015 18:31:18 GMT -5
Crash has a sort of energy to him today. It's vibrant, more vibrant than usual. Like for once, just this once, he's allowed to be alive. Alive and well and something that's not quite entirely dead from the inside out. What a novel concept, and he was a dramatist. It was all so colorful and brilliant and dramatic inside his head. Outside, he was just another skinny mongrel (not a mongrel, and damn anyone that told you he was-- assholes) trying to get by. If you got him to tell you, he was a warrior of heart and soul that was something brilliant and colorful and full of light and dark and internal conflict and-- stop.
He had to stop thinking like that, it would all go to his head. Wouldn't want to seem like a pretentious jerk, right? Ha... too late. Way too late, but that didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore. Crash was in a position where he had nothing to lose, and that was probably the scariest part of it all. Nothing to lose, everything to gain, and he could risk all he had. What did he have? Answer: not much. He had the thoughts in his head and the teeth in his mouth. Life-- it was his job to live it. Life to it's fullest, right? Another cliche. He was full of them.
Like a moth to flame, he was drawn to the asylum. Funny thing that happened the last time he was in one. It'd nearly gotten him killed at the hands of one March Hare. Madman. Madman he was. Crash didn't like the sound of that, but this one looked pretty well... pretty well deserted. Sure, scents lingered here and there, but there was nothing that he could really think through entirely. Sure, it was dangerous. This was life. Life was always dangerous.
The creature picked his way across the floor, long legs creating more elevated action. Wild eyes. Brilliant, wild eyes that were tracking this way and that, trying to get a gauge on what was going on. He had to breathe. Stop holding his breath. It rushed out, creating a small puff before his face. How silly the winter was. He ventured on, picking his way up the stairs and down the hall, all senses primed on the presence of... something. Anyone else. Anyone that would make today's adventure not so lonesome.
Across the ground with a look in his eyes that said... something. What exactly? Crash couldn't tell you, but he was fairly sure he would do better with someone else around. Not that he would know how to react, how to interact, how to figure out what the presence of someone else meant. That was just the thing-- what did it mean? An introvert by nature, Crash didn't really know what he was doing with others anymore. It was easier when he hadn't been on his own for so long. A slippery slope, and he was probably right at the bottom. How strange. How incredibly strange today was.
At least he had his own little world to exist inside. A glass box that had taken him in and sealed him away, where he was safe and nothing could get him. That's what it meant to take asylum, right? Seemed okay. To Crash, it was hard for it not to. Down a long hallway, ducking into a room with a high silver table... he was exploring. That was what the curious creature did best, anyway. Leaping with his long legs, hardly a running start, up and onto the thing. Athletic, agile, and he could see the rest of the world from up here.