Static

The white noise had gone suddenly to electric, blinding energy. This was no high, he could only think, this is pain.

And it had happened before.

More flashes, and it had been forever since the last of them.




--------------------------------------------




Tunnels, familiar ones. He'd seen them before, below the city, rising too fast to break the surface with explosive, devastating force.

Something that should not be free.

Claws, heavily muscled arms with bands of dark, blooded ink
Noxious fluids and clouds, every putrid yellow, red, green and black pouring, swirling  and swelling around and from every movement.
Gnashing of so many teeth, wailing- but not wails of pain. There was no emotion to accompany these screams. Rage, Hatred, Excitement, Determination, Joy... pure bestial roars.
The war cry of Legion.

They were coming, and with their leader in the midst, they had reached the surface, and he could see them, almost free...


--------------------------------------------


But that was to come. He blinked free of the flashing, lancing vision, unsure why it was coming back to him now, showing what he had already seen years ago and never since. The beginning of the end of the world. Of his life. The start of the real fight, the last use of his sanity to help save the world. The fall of cities, of civilization.

Not for Good.
Not to fight Evil.
But just to save the people. Who had no reason to be caught up in the middle.
Those who were caught up in the crossfire, between the Black and the White. Those in the Grey.
Because nobody else would be helping them. Nobody else could.

And if this was all starting soon, if these visions had a reason to be starting again, in so vivid and core-shaking detail..
He was fucked.
Because he wasn't ready yet.
He still had questions, and still didn't understand how to use his own body, or how to save anyone, including himself.

Please let there be answers.
Please let there be more time.

Flow

This was just another one of his low lows, he kept reminding himself.. the pain was superficial, and it was more than likely he would remember none of it in a month's time... But that did not change its pull on the present, and the fact that it was carving holes in his daily life. Without the motivation to begin each day anew, he woke each morning- or afternoon, as was usually the case- with the same dread and aimless longing that had kept him from sleep the night prior.
That nothing helped was nothing new, and hope was a double edged blade, giving him one thing in life to hold his life to the world, and giving his thoughts- and the Jester's words- a target.

He couldn't be sure the thought was his, but the question remained-

"How does one find the energy to continue to live in a world that has so little to offer?"

Grey

It wasn't as if he wasn't trying.

He'd made his share of appearances for society's sake, not disliking his time spent among others, but never quite losing the feeling that it was all, on some level, just an act on his part. To make matters worse, the empathy that allowed him to pick up on even the most subtle feelings from those around him seemed to be broadcasting his own uneasiness.
As his loneliness deepened, the claws and teeth of his personality grew longer, sharper. So much so, that recently when he tried to mingle to banish those very feelings, he was more and more in danger of revealing his temper letting loose a snarl that would have potential companions backing away in fear. And fear could only add to his resentment.
What he longed for was someone who wouldn't fear him, because she understood the shadows in his eyes stood for. Someone who danced along the same edges of darkness that he did, and did not view the path as veraciously evil. He was so tired of the women who fancied themselves princesses, or had simply reserved themselves to the lives of peasants. Perhaps, he thought, since he was a warrior of sorts himself, he would need a woman who was a fighter at heart.
And he was starting to wonder if such a creature even existed.