jamie
02-15-2021, 03:01 PM
Jamie
Dreadful.
So terribly dreadful.
“I was born weak,” he tells her and he can feel the memory as it ripples through him. The magic is not always pleasant, he has found, sometimes it makes him ache. Sometimes he feels things he has no interest in feeling, like the way the muscles had quivered with exhaustion in his youth. How pathetic he had been then. And the breath still rattles, this much is true, he still wheezes and the voice still curls up out of his throat like fog. (He could fix this so easily now, heal himself with little more than a thought, but he keeps this affliction to remind himself where he came from, what he has overcome.)
“Although, looking back on it now, weak feels like an understatement.”
He had been nothing. Insignificant. So pitiful that he had confined himself to the shadows because he could not bear the sun.
A disgrace.
And now? Now she has come to ask him to Pangea’s champion. Now she approaches him because he is a proven fighter, because he has done his home proud.
He smiles his shark-tooth smile and turns those freakish yellow eyes into the darkness. His darkness. It curls around him like a shroud. How giddy it makes him, the terrible things that stir in the shadows. Would she ask him to take up post as champion if she knew that he was one of them? Would she want him to fight on behalf of Pangea if she knew that they were one and the same?
He draws in a long, wheezing breath, contemplating the shadows a moment before he finally drags his focus back to her face. Such a lovely creature, he thinks. They’re all so lovely. He has seen her family, the fine glass of them. Such breakable things in such a dangerous world.
“I will continue to fight for Pangea,” he says, though he hadn’t really been fighting for Pangea through the Alliance. It had been a personal venture, but his victory had benefited his home regardless.
“What will you do with it?” he asks after a beat. “All of the terrible power that calls Pangea home.”
So terribly dreadful.
“I was born weak,” he tells her and he can feel the memory as it ripples through him. The magic is not always pleasant, he has found, sometimes it makes him ache. Sometimes he feels things he has no interest in feeling, like the way the muscles had quivered with exhaustion in his youth. How pathetic he had been then. And the breath still rattles, this much is true, he still wheezes and the voice still curls up out of his throat like fog. (He could fix this so easily now, heal himself with little more than a thought, but he keeps this affliction to remind himself where he came from, what he has overcome.)
“Although, looking back on it now, weak feels like an understatement.”
He had been nothing. Insignificant. So pitiful that he had confined himself to the shadows because he could not bear the sun.
A disgrace.
And now? Now she has come to ask him to Pangea’s champion. Now she approaches him because he is a proven fighter, because he has done his home proud.
He smiles his shark-tooth smile and turns those freakish yellow eyes into the darkness. His darkness. It curls around him like a shroud. How giddy it makes him, the terrible things that stir in the shadows. Would she ask him to take up post as champion if she knew that he was one of them? Would she want him to fight on behalf of Pangea if she knew that they were one and the same?
He draws in a long, wheezing breath, contemplating the shadows a moment before he finally drags his focus back to her face. Such a lovely creature, he thinks. They’re all so lovely. He has seen her family, the fine glass of them. Such breakable things in such a dangerous world.
“I will continue to fight for Pangea,” he says, though he hadn’t really been fighting for Pangea through the Alliance. It had been a personal venture, but his victory had benefited his home regardless.
“What will you do with it?” he asks after a beat. “All of the terrible power that calls Pangea home.”
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[Desire]