Who: Boreas [Closed] When: Evening (May 5th) to Dawn (May 6th) Where: Boreas' apartment, the entire city What: A freak snowstorm in Spring
When she had asked to come in, he hadn’t expected anything like what happened. Her words kept running through his head, the look in her eyes.
“It's not fair to you to... keep dragging this out. But before I give you my answer, you need to be certain of yours.” Her eyes met his. “Boreas. I thought you left me.”
“I know.”
She was pale…too pale. As she bit her lip, he had just enough time to think it must be something much more serious than he could have thought before she spoke. “So. I... didn't act... like a married woman.”
Boreas had only managed to wait until Orithyia was gone, really gone before he exploded. He knew he couldn’t blame her, knew that he had absolutely no right to expect that she wouldn’t have been with others. He had. Still, the thought of anyone else touching her was too much to handle. The thought of her being with anyone else and being happy with them, giving her affection……He screamed as loud as he possibly could, and the television was thrown to the floor with the sound of breaking glass. He was able to stay cold, he never cared about anyone but her. Orithyia wasn’t like that. She would have cared.
He wanted to hurt, wanted to break, wanted to destroy everyone who’d ever looked at her, thought of her, dared to touch her. He couldn’t, couldn’t even ask her who or hunt any of them down. He had nothing, nothing but the rage and the cold that was fast building within him. He had nowhere to direct it, nothing to fight against but himself and anything near him. Furniture was smashed, windows broken, doors ended up torn off their hinges.
It wasn’t long before a layer of frost began to cover everything, and hardly more time passed before a few flakes of snow began to drift down in the ruins of his apartment. He was furious, he was murderous, and his breath was coming hard and fast, white plumes in the air before him.
Boreas stood in front of his windows, yanking the curtains from their place when they dared to billow against him. He was not about to take this quietly, not about to let anyone escape his fury.
The temperature outside dropped steadily, quickly becoming much colder than it had any right to be. Much colder than anyone could have expected. Boreas brought the cold and hoped darkly that people were caught in it, that people were suffering. He kept it up, refusing to stop even when the wind started to whip snow against the buildings and it started to collect in drifts down on the streets.
He didn’t stop until the sun came up in the morning, it’s rays finally making him pause. By then, the city was covered, the damage had been done. It was going to be as unpleasant a day for as many people as possible as it was for him.