[ p a r a n o i d a n d r i o d ]

[sin]

From the shell to his mechanically mastered core he chose to accept the fact that feeling would one of his greatest mistakes. In his bygone life it had merely lead to undesired endings of a species of pain that, whichever, he wasn’t strong enough to continue from or wasn’t just a grief, but had an accord of it’s own along with a contracted ability to cling and grapple with no intention of letting go. Peace was out of the picture.

A mind that could not rest, anymore operated with an imitated manner relating to a machine or AI more than a human brain, was a mind on the brink of many things. Insanity was a break through as much as any break through. Sin was in need of both. But he wasn’t going insane. By fact he believed himself to be one of the sanest students, and beside that, the most boring. The brink of living. The brink of dying. Creating a humorless, blissful, state of nothingness and beginning.

He was on the threshold of paranoia and potentially losing himself.

Of people and their neo-masochistic habits, of people, and himself. He being the most unstable factor, and people holding, and suffering the consequences it was a paranoia of [and for] lives.

He was trying to get rest without sleep, and if he did sleep who knew where his dreams might put him next. Forgive me for my misdoings... Sin allowed himself to recline to the extent of resting his head against the rough side of a tree. Both eyes vanishing beneath dark lashes as his banes flittered away from the recently aware azure and placid white beholders. But these be nightmares… Of blood, and darkness, pf oozing prints splattered across the walls of his wavering subconscious.

nightmare | ˈnītˌme(ə)r | noun | a frightening or unpleasant dream

[/strike][/color]

That’s what the books said.

They wrote it out to be so… simple. Bland. Lacking the life in which a nightmare could hold and the life that the nightmare effects. I was a cheat to make thins sound easy and understandable, and Sin could comprehend why. No need to scare the children. No need to make life seem crueler when their youthful state of mind sees it as fall of fresh surprises, most good, but many remaining unpleasant as nightmare’s definition pronounced it out to be. An unpleasant dream…

Maybe if he repeated it enough, that’s what the nightly dreamscapes of horror would become. Frightening, and unpleasant. Just that. Beautifully, simple.

Or, maybe if he repeated it enough, the definition would simply eat itself form the inside out, outside in. Become nothing. Lose itself. That was about when he began to grow paranoid of not only living things but also words and superstitions. He didn’t want to lose the implicitly, however there was little he wanted anymore. Instead he set targets, but if he thought about then too much, would they implode?

Whatever bug, brink or bother was eating away at him, Sin could only presume as far as it was a problem he created on his own. He found it, caught it, and like a virus it gnawing at the scraps of sanity life left him with. This system… the very wire and core he lived with was being blackened into a useless, dead weight. And now…

All he wanted to do was sleep.

The discomfort at his spine, nor the cold, inflexible earth he sat on could chase away such feelings of weary doldrums. Closing his eyes had been, by far the worst idea, it was only the threat of rain that kept him awake.

It was in the air, that heavy, damp smell, in the murky gloom of the sky, in the obvious thunder bubbling softly somewhere in the direction of the castle, and it was in his head. A forecast of under the weather whims, the slight chance of disaster, and the promise of a clean up post afterwards…

…afterwards…

Afterwards, once he’d greeted the upcoming precipitation like an old friend, once he managed to fight away the foreboding slumber, and once whatever else might come, comes… Afterwards, he’d continue on with his mimic of an android on paranoia and…

Live.

At least, that was what the books always pushed him on to do.[/color][/font][/blockquote][/size]

[Sakura Haruno]

Okay, he was just running from her now! She leaned up against a dogwood tree painting, and trying to loose the pain in-between her ribs while stalking her live prey. She turned around to look, but as she expected, nothing. but it was her job, she had to find him

”Ready or NOT here I COME!”

She yelled into the non-stopping trees, she burst, sprinting forward all the trees seemed to move out of her way. Then she stopped to take a breath. To the side of her eye, she could see a black splotch. Finally. She hid behind a tree and crept forward. Bent her knees got ready.
BAM
A tree, a dead tree. Sakura yanked away from the stringy unbreakable roots, then swung back and away. Now, how would she find him. Then, it got worse, she herd a groan, from the sky. Coming from the old tower that she could barely see thought the tips of the trees. She ran away from the dark large clouds, that were bulging eyes trying to capture her in their musty and wet hands.
As she ran she seemed to hit something, on her knees, it seemed to soft for a rock and too hard for another angry mess of tree leftovers. She got ready of the impact.
”SINNY?”
She yelped wrapping everything around him that she could control. It happened so fast it was hard to tell what happened but the pain was slow and sludgy. As soon as she hit the unstable human, the whole earth turned around and squashed them, from Sakuras vision. This would be bad, she wondered it Sin would beat her, or be grumpy, or mean, and mad, and depressed, and unhappy, or broken, or crunched , or flattened, or cracked like a eggshell. All she thought about was him bveing as grump as the rainclouds themselves were…

[sorreh, that this was short and so random, and empty, Unfilled, like nothing..... ]