[size=9pt]The Underground Complex is pretty eerie. There's lots of white walls, blue light and metal. It feels like a lab, and Moon feels he's being tested on. Without consent. Like he was abducted and now he's strapped down, getting probed by aliens of emotion.
He's sat in a room, whichever room it was, and he's staring at the wall. But it's not just a blank wall. He knows that'd probably be more angsty and pretentious, but this wall is painted with the Leo constellation and he's... Projecting. Yeah. That's what he's doing, and it's fucking with his head. But he's locked in and there doesn't seem to be any hope in getting out any time soon, so now is as good a time as any to think about his mom.
She was a Leo. She was also a Lion, which is kind of ironic. But he's not thinking about that. He's thinking about golden fur that smelled like roses and antiseptic, fresh kills and Juniper. They'd never hugged- she didn't like physical contact like that, but the scent followed her everywhere and every time she passed him, busy, he'd breath it in like it was his life source. He remembers being a cub and watching her from afar as she fixed up someone else's wound. He'd make a show of gathering herbs and shit for her and she wouldn't even spare him a fucking glance.
It's dark stuff to think about and he realizes this and sits up, physically shaking it all off. Reminiscing on a dead witch isn't going to help him get out. There's no use in sitting in a room and rotting, surrounded by bad paintings, bitter. So he drags himself to the door and slumps against the wall, there, and lifts his good paw to the door. He sticks one claw through the lock, fiddling with it noisily, but he knows it's in vain. He's tried it before. So he's down to his last hope, and he's seen the movies before; this is the part where he loses it, closes his eyes, and breaks into song. And who is he to break tradition? Besides, he knows this one the humans sing, and it's kind of fitting. Lowly, he begins. "I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, because I'm-" his voice cracks, and he starts to laugh at himself, quietly. If he's going to die here he may as well abandon all shame. "Easy come, easy go, little high, little low. Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me... MAMA!"
If it comes down to it and someone actually opens the door to come in, he just fucking hopes they have the common sense that he didn't to know that once it closes, they're in there for good.
/ [member=598]imperia[/member]
He's sat in a room, whichever room it was, and he's staring at the wall. But it's not just a blank wall. He knows that'd probably be more angsty and pretentious, but this wall is painted with the Leo constellation and he's... Projecting. Yeah. That's what he's doing, and it's fucking with his head. But he's locked in and there doesn't seem to be any hope in getting out any time soon, so now is as good a time as any to think about his mom.
She was a Leo. She was also a Lion, which is kind of ironic. But he's not thinking about that. He's thinking about golden fur that smelled like roses and antiseptic, fresh kills and Juniper. They'd never hugged- she didn't like physical contact like that, but the scent followed her everywhere and every time she passed him, busy, he'd breath it in like it was his life source. He remembers being a cub and watching her from afar as she fixed up someone else's wound. He'd make a show of gathering herbs and shit for her and she wouldn't even spare him a fucking glance.
It's dark stuff to think about and he realizes this and sits up, physically shaking it all off. Reminiscing on a dead witch isn't going to help him get out. There's no use in sitting in a room and rotting, surrounded by bad paintings, bitter. So he drags himself to the door and slumps against the wall, there, and lifts his good paw to the door. He sticks one claw through the lock, fiddling with it noisily, but he knows it's in vain. He's tried it before. So he's down to his last hope, and he's seen the movies before; this is the part where he loses it, closes his eyes, and breaks into song. And who is he to break tradition? Besides, he knows this one the humans sing, and it's kind of fitting. Lowly, he begins. "I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, because I'm-" his voice cracks, and he starts to laugh at himself, quietly. If he's going to die here he may as well abandon all shame. "Easy come, easy go, little high, little low. Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me... MAMA!"
If it comes down to it and someone actually opens the door to come in, he just fucking hopes they have the common sense that he didn't to know that once it closes, they're in there for good.
/ [member=598]imperia[/member]
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]