Nov 12 2015, 12:11 AM
BARATHEON
"the world is mine for the taking"
Ah, how he loved Pisces. The water was the most relaxing and feel good thing in the world. The white dragon floated in the water, right below the falls as he let the waterfall grass over his back. It did wonders to wipe away any grime and stress. It all seemed to float away. Normally he wouldn't have any stress but now... Memories. Memories and nightmares. He didn't know which was which. He had dreams of a red haze, clouding his vision. It caused him to lose all control of his mind, to attack poor creatures that didn't deserve it. Yet, in those nightmares he could do nothing about it. He was a slave to the red haze... a slave to the scent in his nose... The scent of...
Blood.
His nose wrinkled. There was no blood around here now, he hadn't scented blood in ages. He didn't even want to think about it... Those memories, they were terrible. He didn't want them. Couldn't be them...
Pain.
Headache.
He closed his eye, stopped thinking. Why was he being tortured? Was he truly this... Baratheon? That everyone kept calling him? He didn't want to be... Baratheon hurt others. He didn't want to hurt. He didn't want to kill or to fight. If there was a "Baratheon" inside of him it needed to be pushed aside, to be rejected. Sent away... He would not associate with it. Association meant pain and death... Rejection meant peace. He liked peace. Liked to see others happy. Baratheon induced blood, he would induce joy.
There as he stared at the water he came to a realization. Dragon, that's what he was. What he went by but now... Now he needed a new identity. He would repress what was evil in him, repress his memories and have a new identity. He still didn't know everything about this so-called "Baratheon" and he didn't want to. Headaches happened with every new piece of information. Repression didn't hurt... Repression was good, it was best.
As the reflection stared back at him he began to move his mouth as he would when he was with Macawi. She'd told him that working on his words would help him. Would bring back the memories, slowly. He didn't want the memories... He wanted relief. He wanted them to stop so he could be a new dragon that helped people. He stopped moving his mouth. Settling back into silence. No words. Not today, he wasn't ready to face his past. No pain.
With a sigh he swam back to the edge of the lagoon and pulled himself out. For a moment he stood, soaking wet with water running off of his coat. Then after a moment he shook himself, spraying water in every direction but he didn't move away. Instead he stared at the ground. Denial. That's what he was in... Unwilling to admit or own up to his past. Should he remember? Would remembering give him more power? With what he got in his nightmares he wasn't sure if he wanted to...