Gallop
Pet Name: Gallop
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Baby Shyre
Born: January 15, 2015
Gender: Male
MisticPal Name: Daydreams
MisticPal Age: 3630 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 10 / 10
Strength: 25
Defense: 0
Speed: 20
Intellect: 15
Misticpower: 1
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]
Rainbows, heralded by great angry dragons,
cast shadows of color across our paths,
and we will interpret them as we see fit.
I feel that I am close to a decision, or perhaps a realization.
I can feel it there, sticking in my throat. Just there. Trying, but unable to vocalize itself.
How do you let yourself know things that you need to know? If you do not know them, how can you realize them? Where do these things come from?
I feel that I need many things. I am fallible. If I do not find stability soon I will disintegrate, like a frail autumn leaf crushed by careless footsteps.
I am like a ray of color in the mist. I am born and exist only by the whims of stormy skies.
Perhaps this is a fantastic thing.
Maybe that is all I need to know. That my origin is wild and life-giving.
That I myself, while various and shifting, will always find a way to acclimate (and many times over).
I will find a way to brave the storms, I will brighten the gray that they have brought.
I will be a beacon, loved but easily forgotten.
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"What can I say that has not already been said? Live well and let others live as well or as unwell as they would like, but if someone ever comes to you for help, understand that this might be the most important thing they would ever ask of you. So, if you are able, and sometimes even if you are not, help them."
ID No. 1F
Gallop; "the fastest pace of a horse or other quadruped, with all feet off the ground together in each stride"
awkward || strong-willed || charismatic || troubled
"The Dreamer"
Gallop is particularly happy soul, always prancing about and making the best of what she can. She dreams a lot, too, and sees no limit to what to she can achieve.
Despite her ambitious and optimistic attitude, a myriad of fears tend to swell beneath the surface. She can be fickle and too goal-oriented, tending to be lost when there is no set plan in front of her.
Gallop is prone to nightmares that began shortly after a near-death encounter. She has some anxiety revolving around the dark, but does her best to squash all of these bad memories and irrational fears. She lost herself for a while after the encounter, but she has fought hard for sanity and has won.
Other than that she is a rather up-beat fellow, if not also rather naive. She believes that there is no such thing as a small or insignificant moment. Her favorite thing to do is listen to the stories and explore the lives of other people. Her greatest fear is of losing herself to insanity.
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Therein the rusted window pane,
drawls out the sunny morn,
a golden apex of our tale,
that shines forth forever more.
We traipse in dusky midnight glooms
from faraway then to now,
where doth the sun sing handsomely
of reprieve: a lovely sound.
Adventure had alighted by dawn
through a dead monster's grove
when in great terrible nightmares
our fragile minds fell.
We, who shook to the bone,
draped in courage-less shrouds
broke in sunlight to tears
for much too long we'd been lost in this horrific maze.
And while we might wish, but for naught,
the horror still creeps
right on up to our doorsteps,
to bring us nakedness in dreams.
May the night never come,
though are hearts might be strong,
in the face of true darkness
we shy from bravery's cue.
Not for long I do beg,
and my comrades agree
that the fear, though consuming,
is not endless you see.
-----------~-~-~----------~~-~-~-~~----------~-~-~-----------
I am on the ground, in tatters, limbs splayed and lifeless.
Dark tendrils creep and whisper, shifting, inspiring wordless horror.
I would be frightened of them if I could see, but in my exhaustion I am almost rendered sightless. This absolute stagnation, paralysis, wordless shifting insanity that I am helpless to fight off, it brings about such crippling sorrow, if it were even possible to be further crippled. In moments that last eons, each blink eternity, I periodically tear up, stop myself, tear up, stop, on and on, a cycle that I find is almost as bad as eternity absent of any movement from I.
I am afraid of falling into a void, a place where words are rendered useless and the personal place and perspective in the world that we all carve out for ourselves is absolutely obliterated with uselessness and loss of memory, or more accurately, a complete lack of memory. You cannot remember the moment before the one you are experiencing, but you cannot remember this either, so rather it all blends into one infinite moment.
And no matter what you do, you cannot escape this absolute obliteration of the mind.
I am very cold. I didn't know such a state could exist, I did not know I could be so cold to the point of actually developing a fear of the cold.
My thoughts are faster than I can comprehend and reset at every blink or twitch or groan. Formulating coherent thoughts is both a dreadful chore and an unavoidable consuming vortex. While I may be able to think, words are beyond me. I might try to talk now and then, but I am only further sown into depression by the repetitive realizations of lack of mobility, speech, memory. I wish right now most of all that I could remember everything all at once, so that I would not have to feel such horrible anguish every time bits and pieces of reality came back to haunt me.
I am -- I am -- so cold, so cold, this stone, unforgiving.
A terrifying ache has grown in my abdomen. I have, I have eaten -- something, something, no, that's not right. It's -- who has done this to me -- what is remembering, I am -- voiceless, incoherent, what is my name -- where are my comrades?
Are they -- dead, are they dead, can't be, I can almost.
I see a face imprinted, a vision, a dream, of the one who has trapped us here.
He is, I am speechless, without body, and is trying to use our minds as a tool to destroy us.
I am, I am the strongest, I am alive, impenetrable, free -- fierce -- made of stuff as strong as mountains.
You cannot have me -- I am, indigestible, impenetrable, mountains, stuff as strong as -- impenetrable.
It is torturous. It has to stop. This cannot go on forever. Forming thoughts should not be so mind-alteringly stressful. I cry out, a low, pained grown, and listen to the realness of it echo in the dark chamber.
The walls creep and shift and sway. I am afraid to close my eyes for fear of what an even stronger darkness might reveal.
I want it to end, now, right, so cold, so incredibly cold -- right -- my name, my name is -- now, please oh god please please please.
I fell back into myself, all at once and with a nearly audible pop.
These nightmares, though terrible, will never compare. I sighed and let my shaking body settle. I encouraged relaxation, this experience was not unfamiliar, I could deal with dreams.
While laying, staring at the shifting clouds that raked sporadically across a starry sky, I felt an immeasurable stillness spread through me.
After braving insanity, though if you ever asked I would say no bravery was involved, peace amidst a rough sea of thoughts was not so hard to achieve.
I was almost proud. I stopped this feeling to examine it -- I find it hard to be prideful of something so terrifyingly different, especially when my reactions to such an event are less than admirable.
In the end I have decided that it is alright to find pride in simple existence. To go to hell and back and come out whole, well that is a feat worth remembering.
These nightmares will not consume me. I am and will always be a resolute knight, able to be worn and injured, for I am as mortal as they come, but still unable to be, in essence, destroyed.
I tried to thank insanity, but found it hard. I have not forgotten the scars left on me by its intentions.
In a way though, all these scars do is serve as a reminder that the now is not so terrible, and that there are worse things to fear than the petty things I might become engrossed in as my days wear on.
And that maybe, just maybe, even the most terrible of existences that one can imagine do not need to be feared either, and further that maybe in some strange way unobservable by us, it is not actually terrible.
So I am thankful, even if in my thankfulness I might find silence, for I fear it is almost an insult to thank it with the very tools it sought to eradicate in us.
I do not complain, however, when I slip back into a comfortable shell of memory and time, where I am free to see illusions as I'd like and be comfortable with my idea of self.
I beg quietly in my mind, even though I already know that this is true, for nothing to ever be endless. That I might continue on to change and develop different perspectives on, well, everything, and that one moment will never again last into eternity.
Maybe whatever change comes next, though, won't have to be so painful?
~
Gallop belongs to Apache.
Boxed Baby on 5/24/18!
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