Penny (The Big Bang Theory) loveshernerds wrote in memebells
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1177. Angst Meme

Sometimes we all want to play some angst and see just how far our characters and and will fall.

- Post your characters, name and series in the subject along with any preferences.
- Go to random.org and roll.
- Play!

1. just depressed.
Things are tough, you're feeling worn out, or whatever the case, you're depressed. You need help or someone else thinks you do anyway.

2. abandoned.
You were left behind by everyone you hold dear and now you're forced to see how well they've adjusted, how happy they all are while you're screaming inside.

3. sick.
Cold, flu, or something even worse, all you can do is lay back and let someone take care of you.

4. fight.
You've been fighting nonstop with the other person and it just keep escalating.

5. break up.
You're being broken up with and they won't reconsider... Damn.

6. separated.
For some reason, you've been separated from the other person for a long time.

7. kidnapped.
You've been held captive for how long now? Maybe they've been torturing you even, using your blood to write ransom notes, threatening to cut off fingers to send next, etc. Rescue is on the way though, right?

8. beaten up.
Just because someone didn't like you or maybe they wanted something you had, whatever the case is, you're coming home sporting some nasty wounds and bruises.

9. jealousy.
You just have this undeniable jealousy suddenly and you need to let it out.

10. cheated on.
This goes beyond just suspicion and you have full on proof of what your lover has done. How do you handle it?

11. apathetic.
You're not sad, you're not happy, you just... don't feel much anymore. The sparkle of life has gone right out of you and you're just going through the motions now.

12. addicted.
Drugs, alcohol, whatever your drug of choice is, you can't fight the draw and you can't draw yourself out of the hole, but the other person is going to try.

13. bad romance.
You know this isn't good for either of you, but you can't stop now.

14. fear.
Nightmares, the feeling someone is following you, etc. You can't shake the feeling.

15. insanity.
You're seeing things and hearing them, waking up only to realize you've done things you don't remember or you're in a place you weren't before. You're losing it and you don't know what to do.

16. guilt.
It's eating you up inside and you have to tell someone about it now. You want to be punished and you won't take no for an answer.

17. loss
You've lost something dear to you.

18. wild card.
Combine some options or make your own!

Taken from here.


[On the whole, Maria is at peace with her past. The terrible things she did, generally speaking, don't trouble her, although she suspects that they should. But they're in the past, and while it's not really accurate to say she is no longer that person, it's fair to say that she's a more mature, less cruel, more principled version of her. Especially since Ben came into the picture.

Still, the past is the past. For the most part she doesn't speak of it and she doesn't think overmuch on it.

Sometimes, though, even the past you avoid contemplating will come back to haunt your nightmares and wrap you up in terrors so vivid they send you bolting upright in the middle of the darkest hour of the night, screaming.]

[And it's no longer strange at all to sleep with her in human form. It's all they do, after all, sleep and cuddle, and Ben missed the contact, fiercely, more than he realized until he got it back.

So when Maria screams awake like that, Ben is right there with sheltering arms and a hand rubbing her back.] Easy, Maria. Just a nightmare. It's not real.

[Maria chokes on a noise that's half sob, half cry of fear and all but doubles over, pressing the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until she sees stars. Her heart hammers, and she shakes her head without speaking.

It is real, she can't say. Real and vivid and awful; her subconscious may have chosen a greatest-hits reel and embellished it with bright, awful splashes of terrible things happening to Ben in retribution for what she did, but the bulk of it, the worst parts of it, those were all real, memories instead of subconscious terrors.

And she can't tell him the half of it. She doesn't dare.]

Shh. I gotcha. [He rocks her, rubbing circles on her back and pressing his lips to her hair.] You're all right now, Maria. Just a bad dream. No one's hurting anyone anymore. [Ben's not the only one who talks in his sleep, or whose subconscious is a mean bastard. He's gleaned a few things, here and there.

But he doesn't pry either. If she wants to tell him, she will.]

[She leans hard into him, turning to bury her face against his chest. She's never acted like this, been this vulnerable or this obviously in need of comfort, with anyone. Hell, in her better moments, she realizes that even the fact that she wakes up like this -- that her training and her subconscious allow her to let her guard down enough for that -- is a sign of how far she's come and how much he's done to break down her emotional walls.

It doesn't make her hate this any less. Feeling this raw and this wounded in front of another person is dangerous. Feeling this raw and this wounded by things that would probably horrify him if he knew about them is even more so.]

You know. [He keeps his tone conversational while he tightens his arms.] I lived with a pair of ex-demons. One, the first time we met, chained me to a post and beat the hell out of me with a bullwhip. And the other one spent thousands of years bilking people out of their souls and got me kidnapped by a rich megalomaniac.

I loved them like brothers.

Your past won't change how I feel about you in the here and now, Maria.

[Maria takes a shuddery breath and wraps her arms around him in return. Partly to reassure herself he is here and alive and not suffering for what she's done; partly for other reasons, if she's being honest.]

I am no demon, Volchok moy. I have no such excuse for what I've done.

[He huffs.] They made their choices, same as anyone.

And they changed.

And if you want a human example, that rich megalomaniac? I started out hating him and bucking his system and doing everything I could to make his life as miserable as possible. He was a selfish old man who thought he could buy love by gathering his very own werewolf Pack around him, before slavery was even a Thing. Consorted with demons and made deals with them to live an unnaturally long life. I'd've sworn the man didn't have a giving bone in his body.

And then came the slave mandate. And he bought us all and kept us together and took care of us like we were his kids. And we did love him. All of us, in the end. And I watched him walk into Heaven at the end of his life, after he nearly gave up even that to protect us.

[He squeezes her and speaks into her hair.] Anyone who treats me the way you do isn't evil.

[Maria closes her eyes, not moving her face from where it's buried against his chest.]

Not so evil, maybe. But also not so very good.

[She wraps one hand around her other wrist and tightens her fingers, like she's trying to keep hold of him while someone else tries to pull him away.]

I didn't change, Volchok. All it is I did is find something else to do once I was too slow and too crippled-up to be any good at ruining lives and starting wars anymore.

No, you know what, I don't buy it. Because if you were really that person, you could've found some other way to keep ruining lives. You could've found other awful things to do.

Instead, you're a doctor who treats a werewolf like a person. [He kisses her hair.] You found a broken slave in a market and built him back up into a man. You didn't have to do that, and it came naturally to you. Unlike every other Master I've had except Wynter.

[Maria wants to believe it. She does. On her good days, she believes it.

But it's the middle of the night and the worst things she did and had done to her have all been dredged up by the nightmare, lying too close to the surface. She shakes her head, and her voice is very, very small.]

How many wars does that blot out, do you think? How many lives of men and women who wanted only to live and not be terrorized by men I armed and men I fought for?

It's not a balance sheet. Dad doesn't work that way. By Grace ye are saved through faith. But salvation is a journey, too. I've slipped, more times than I can say, and faith isn't some nebulous pie-in-the-sky thing to me. I know. I battled demons and have the scars and an angel died in my arms.

But I don't have all the answers for why. Why did Janni die and not me. Why did I kill my friend in the ring? Why did Dad let Guri be murdered? Why the hell is slavery a thing when I thought we'd learned that lesson. I don't know. I may never know. All I can do is trust, and sometimes...

Sometimes, that's really, really hard.

You don't use me. You certainly don't abuse me. If you're still working out what kind of person you are, well, I guess you can do that. [He kisses her hair again.] But it's clear as a bell to me.

Edited at 2012-08-25 05:17 am (UTC)

Ach, Volchok.

[Maria doesn't say anything else. She just holds on and leans into him and breathes in his scent and his presence for a long, long time. When she finally does speak, the words spill out without any hesitations or pauses, like she's rehearsed this in her mind more than once before.]

I was seventeen when they came and called on me and asked did I want to live a different life. Did I want to leave home and do grand things, important things, and be something besides a quiet little nobody in a quiet little nothing town?

And I did. Oh, I did want to. And I knew it, even then I knew that what they meant wasn't good things, wasn't noble things, but I was seventeen and selfish and wanted the world more than I wanted to be good or to be noble.

. . . and what does it say about me, Ben, that if I'd known just how terrible those important things they wanted of me were, still I would have gone with them? What does it say that if I had to choose again, to be a quiet little fishwife in a nowhere town or to be me who has done so much that was important and awful, I would still choose to have gone with them?

Edited at 2012-08-25 05:33 am (UTC)

(no subject) - werewolf_hacker, 2012-08-25 05:54 am (UTC)(Expand)
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(no subject) - inwhichwar, 2012-08-26 05:18 am (UTC)(Expand)
[Maria closes her eyes and just . . . enjoys the sensation of his arms around her while he talks. She'll never get tired of this, she thinks.]

I am glad that you did live through it. And that I lived through all I did. Glad because it brought us to here and now.

Dad is good. I thank Him for you every day. [All the ways his new Master could have gone horribly wrong haunt his nightmares. He buries his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of Alpha and home.] It's so good to be with someone who cares about me for more than a status symbol or how much a ring bet will bring them. I'd forgotten what it was like, to love, and be loved...

[She nods, still with her arms looped around his neck, her head on his shoulder.]

And I thought it was something I had left behind me long ago. One of the things I exchanged for the life I chose to lead.

Better late than never. [Of course, just because they've acknowledged the elephant in the room doesn't mean there aren't hippos and crocs too. There's still the distressing (to Ben) matter of her faith, or lack thereof. But for now, he'll take this, holding a girl he loves in his arms, and not giving a damn what the rest of the world thinks.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss her. Really kiss her.]

[One corner of Maria's mouth turns up in a crooked, sincere smile.]

Not too late. There is no such thing as too late for a wonderful thing to happen. And I am not such an old lady, yet.

[Especially since, with him, she no longer feels like one.]

Your age is just right, as far as I'm concerned. [He laughs.] Last thing a grizzle-headed old wolf like me needs is some airheaded twenty-year-old bimbo in his life.

[Maria snorts in amusement.]

Ach, yes, the old graybeard speaks. You are too good a fellow to have to put up with an empty-headed anyone, no matter the age.

[Her arms tighten and she rests her forehead against the side of his neck.]

You're far better a fellow than most anybody deserves.

[And if sometimes she includes herself in that, well. She's not going to say that, because it makes him sad when she does.]

[He shrugs. He doesn't think he's anything special, not really, and especially not lately with the deaths that blew his rules of engagement out of the water hanging over his head.

And if he was a better person, he probably wouldn't tip her chin up and kiss her right on the lips.]

[Well. And maybe if she were a better person she wouldn't kiss him right back, sliding one hand up and threading the fingers through his hair.

It's been a very long time since anyone kissed her. She's not going to waste the opportunity.]

[He inhales and deepens the kiss before pulling back with a gasp.] I'm sorry. Oh, God... [What has he done.] That's not fair to you, Maria, God, I'm sorry.

[Maria sits back a little and tilts her head slowly to one side, giving him a puzzled frown.]

Was ist los, unfair to me? What on earth do you mean?

It's not-- I'm not-- [He swallows hard and shakes his head.]

I'm a werewolf, Maria. With all that entails at this moment in time. And hitching yourself to me, like this... [He shakes his head some more.] Werewolves mate for life, and you can and should do better.

Edited at 2012-08-26 11:11 pm (UTC)

(no subject) - inwhichwar, 2012-08-26 11:44 pm (UTC)(Expand)
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