I'm trapped by my guilt, want to be forgotten. Tired of the noise, aching for relief.
[Backdated to before this post]
There's a dog on Chicago's streets, sticking close to walls and wandering through alleys, doing its best to look dirty and thin and unfriendly like any other stray. That's hard when all you really want to do is curl into a ball of misery and wait to forget everything.
She's let the dog take front seat, for the most part--except where the dog is a lot friendlier than she is. Not exactly characteristic of the species, but Ruvin doesn't really care. She forces herself to growl at comforting hands and attempted handouts and avoids the areas she knows people will recognize her as best she can.
Currently she's somewhere in Northwest Chicago, surrounded by a language she doesn't speak but does recognize as Spanish. It's getting harder to read street signs, easier to distinguish smells. Faster than before, but she really doesn't mind. She's trying this time. Trying to get the dog to take over. This is what she wants, right? To not be grown up or brave or anything any more. To stop trying to change things. Forget everything. Forget Robin and the fact that she lied and he knows it and this is all her fault, all her fault, oh god he's gone and he's probably never going to come back and it's because she couldn't keep to her own stupid self.
As for Dusty, the Doctor, well... It's better, right? It's better if she just slips away before she gets herself killed doing something stupid and hurts both of them, too. Let them think she got taken by the rift again. That she's somewhere else, somewhere different, maybe somewhere safe. It's better if she does what she should have before she got close to any of them.
Isn't it?
There's a dog on Chicago's streets, sticking close to walls and wandering through alleys, doing its best to look dirty and thin and unfriendly like any other stray. That's hard when all you really want to do is curl into a ball of misery and wait to forget everything.
She's let the dog take front seat, for the most part--except where the dog is a lot friendlier than she is. Not exactly characteristic of the species, but Ruvin doesn't really care. She forces herself to growl at comforting hands and attempted handouts and avoids the areas she knows people will recognize her as best she can.
Currently she's somewhere in Northwest Chicago, surrounded by a language she doesn't speak but does recognize as Spanish. It's getting harder to read street signs, easier to distinguish smells. Faster than before, but she really doesn't mind. She's trying this time. Trying to get the dog to take over. This is what she wants, right? To not be grown up or brave or anything any more. To stop trying to change things. Forget everything. Forget Robin and the fact that she lied and he knows it and this is all her fault, all her fault, oh god he's gone and he's probably never going to come back and it's because she couldn't keep to her own stupid self.
As for Dusty, the Doctor, well... It's better, right? It's better if she just slips away before she gets herself killed doing something stupid and hurts both of them, too. Let them think she got taken by the rift again. That she's somewhere else, somewhere different, maybe somewhere safe. It's better if she does what she should have before she got close to any of them.
Isn't it?