(because she's always been this way. a different type of crazy, not the insanity of lappland whenever she genuinely feels that way. the insanity of a woman that chose one of the not sanest approaches to living, that girl who killed her father and burned it all down. of the three, cellinia was the one that made her own decision to not fall under the paths that giovanna and lappland themselves took. that path was a path meant to be the hardest. she may never stop feeling angry, but her choice was and still is the decision she made. that she would shoulder on her responsibility in this mess she once was part of as a familiga wolf. she is not that golden girl, what she is now is someone that went against the fold.
because cellinia texas held and saw one thing, what she likes most is life. living, dreaming, and breathing. the risk always had it's biggest highs to her and no matter this choice setting her further away from those she grew up with, she chose this. the two were part of her life and were in some ways precious to her. the difficulties of showing this is another story. because texas knows she might not ever be able to do that. they'd never reach her with the paths they took, and she'd never reach them in a similar vein until they all find what they're after. it was just humorous that the runaway lone wolf saw what she wished for first over time when she returned to siracusa.
as a lone wolf, this had been her choice. maybe now it counts again as her decision, would she regret this? can she? that's the thing about living, there would always be regrets. so maybe, just maybe....she wants to live even with those regrets. and desires more importantly to do something that plenty would call her insane over. broca would call her stupid, she knows him by now. aak might even think she's crazy after their conversation last time. but she knows, she knows what she wants to do for now. she can defend herself if it comes to that with or without weapons. so she touches lappland, her fingers trailing over one particular shoulder scar. not the one left by ingrid, the other one. seeing it again reminds her of that night. she still has a rather familiar one from her hip to her stomach courtesy of someone that's in front of her.
funny. they gave one another mutual scars that night, but her touch is gentle for looking it over. the touch of her rough fingertips tracing it before she reaches to get that vest unbuttoned and that cape she was wearing dropped to the floor. as loathed as she is to stop kissing lappland for now, she did need to keep this from being ripped off. they can't go to a party nude (even if that wouldn't be much of a surprise in the resort after she came in on that vampire blood orgy just about) despite her having a feeling that would be acceptable to the house. those bastards in the end that run everything.) If you think you'll act out, whether I regret it or not is on me. But what I do know is that if I have to, then I'll be the one to stop you from doing anything. (she should have said that from the start, she might regret it in some ways. in others, maybe not.
because that's living, that's always how it should be with or without regrets once that vest is down on the floor. her dress shirt and ascot are left, so are those slacks and her boots. damn pain in the ass outfit, ugh.)
no subject
(because she's always been this way. a different type of crazy, not the insanity of lappland whenever she genuinely feels that way. the insanity of a woman that chose one of the not sanest approaches to living, that girl who killed her father and burned it all down. of the three, cellinia was the one that made her own decision to not fall under the paths that giovanna and lappland themselves took. that path was a path meant to be the hardest. she may never stop feeling angry, but her choice was and still is the decision she made. that she would shoulder on her responsibility in this mess she once was part of as a familiga wolf. she is not that golden girl, what she is now is someone that went against the fold.
because cellinia texas held and saw one thing, what she likes most is life. living, dreaming, and breathing. the risk always had it's biggest highs to her and no matter this choice setting her further away from those she grew up with, she chose this. the two were part of her life and were in some ways precious to her. the difficulties of showing this is another story. because texas knows she might not ever be able to do that. they'd never reach her with the paths they took, and she'd never reach them in a similar vein until they all find what they're after. it was just humorous that the runaway lone wolf saw what she wished for first over time when she returned to siracusa.
as a lone wolf, this had been her choice. maybe now it counts again as her decision, would she regret this? can she? that's the thing about living, there would always be regrets. so maybe, just maybe....she wants to live even with those regrets. and desires more importantly to do something that plenty would call her insane over. broca would call her stupid, she knows him by now. aak might even think she's crazy after their conversation last time. but she knows, she knows what she wants to do for now. she can defend herself if it comes to that with or without weapons. so she touches lappland, her fingers trailing over one particular shoulder scar. not the one left by ingrid, the other one. seeing it again reminds her of that night. she still has a rather familiar one from her hip to her stomach courtesy of someone that's in front of her.
funny. they gave one another mutual scars that night, but her touch is gentle for looking it over. the touch of her rough fingertips tracing it before she reaches to get that vest unbuttoned and that cape she was wearing dropped to the floor. as loathed as she is to stop kissing lappland for now, she did need to keep this from being ripped off. they can't go to a party nude (even if that wouldn't be much of a surprise in the resort after she came in on that vampire blood orgy just about) despite her having a feeling that would be acceptable to the house. those bastards in the end that run everything.) If you think you'll act out, whether I regret it or not is on me. But what I do know is that if I have to, then I'll be the one to stop you from doing anything. (she should have said that from the start, she might regret it in some ways. in others, maybe not.
because that's living, that's always how it should be with or without regrets once that vest is down on the floor. her dress shirt and ascot are left, so are those slacks and her boots. damn pain in the ass outfit, ugh.)