[ Let them go and die. The thought crosses her mind as soon as she sees the post, and the amount of inexperienced children responding, willing lambs to be lead into the slaughter. As of late these thoughts have been happening more and more - confused thoughts, full of hatred that left the taste for vengeance on her tongue. If they wished to fight against something they didn't understand with weapons half of them probably couldn't fire, that was their choice. Let them go. What does it matter? They'll all go, soon.
She catches herself mid-thought, eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep from disturbing thoughts - from the senseless hatred. Disgust. What did it matter? Why should she care about these people? Why had she ever cared? The laughter of a man sits heavily in her mind, driving her slowly insane. Who are you? And what did you do? Why was this man, this shadow of a man she had never seen before, plucking slowly away at her sanity and driving her to these mad thoughts?
No, these thoughts were wrong. Why they were there, she didn't know - but she couldn't let them control her. She could not allow her emotions to inhibit her judgement and let her sit back while young adults with no experience offered themselves up to "glory". Not as a teacher, not as the person she had been raised to be. Compassion for others... it's funny, when they don't have compassion for you. They laugh. Such terrible laughter.
Push it aside. Push it aside and press on. Ignore the laughter, ignore the hatred. Push it down and away. It's not yours. It's not.
Out of professionalism she would normally just go to video. But she couldn't, not with eyes red rimmed, like a fool. A fool who couldn't quell disgusting thoughts. Her voice, though, remains smooth and even. ]
Casval Mass. While your weapons are quite impressive and your words pretty, I still have concerns. Do you think to simply walk into the Dead District with your guns blazing, inexperienced teenagers at your side?
How exactly do you plan to achieve success in this endeavor? From what we do know, whatever is in there - werewolves or not - should not be taken lightly.
audio; cell phone
She catches herself mid-thought, eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep from disturbing thoughts - from the senseless hatred. Disgust. What did it matter? Why should she care about these people? Why had she ever cared? The laughter of a man sits heavily in her mind, driving her slowly insane. Who are you? And what did you do? Why was this man, this shadow of a man she had never seen before, plucking slowly away at her sanity and driving her to these mad thoughts?
No, these thoughts were wrong. Why they were there, she didn't know - but she couldn't let them control her. She could not allow her emotions to inhibit her judgement and let her sit back while young adults with no experience offered themselves up to "glory". Not as a teacher, not as the person she had been raised to be. Compassion for others... it's funny, when they don't have compassion for you. They laugh. Such terrible laughter.
Push it aside. Push it aside and press on. Ignore the laughter, ignore the hatred. Push it down and away. It's not yours. It's not.
Out of professionalism she would normally just go to video. But she couldn't, not with eyes red rimmed, like a fool. A fool who couldn't quell disgusting thoughts. Her voice, though, remains smooth and even. ]
Casval Mass. While your weapons are quite impressive and your words pretty, I still have concerns. Do you think to simply walk into the Dead District with your guns blazing, inexperienced teenagers at your side?
How exactly do you plan to achieve success in this endeavor? From what we do know, whatever is in there - werewolves or not - should not be taken lightly.