09-28-2018, 03:08 PM
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<i>"Double, double toil and trouble!"</i>
Like the most redundant gong of a bell, it sounded through the land, reverberating through his ears, over and over and over again. Pounding in his head. So damn irritating. And grating. Much like his clenched teeth would be had he been old enough to have any. Which he'd of course use to silence this fool that wouldn't shut the hell up.
<i>"I’ve brought a challenge to all you dears, one that requires you face your fears! Don’t you dare cower, don’t avert your eyes, for if you succeed, you will earn your prize."</i>
He rolled his bright eyes and kept walking, shook his small head. He didn't have any fears. And he wasn't playing some stupid game. He had enough pushing about that from his little sister. And anyway, everything should fear <i>him</i>, didn't the guy know that? No? Well, Decimate could teach him. Gladly. Although...
Well, he wasn't opposed to prizes.
Whatever that even meant.
And what the hell was up with the lights? Did it make the guy feel all special to shove a fog in his face like that and make the world go dark? Yeah, real impressed. He was born in the shadows of hell. He'd never be afraid of the dark. Let him come here for real, and Deci would bite his damn face off. Or kick it in, at least, since the lack of teeth thing. Then who'd be left in the dark, huh?
<i>“Show me your very best disguise and search for the place victory lies. Bring me your best trick or bring me a treat! Tonight I’m the one that you must defeat.”</i>
Defeating was easy enough, and a dark grin twisted his mouth, malice shadowing his young eyes. The disguise, too, his sister had volunteered herself to do. Insisted, really, despite his sharp, violent protests. No matter how he attacked though, she only went incorporeal, a ghost literally, and her punishment went unfulfilled. It was the most infuriating thing about her yet. And really, just to shut her up, he finally allowed her to have her way.
This time.
But he would find a way to break her.
Now, here he was. A dragon, she had said. Glittering and shimmering, his body was a metallic sort of rusty gold and vibrant green. How she created the mixture that she'd smeared over his perfectly indigo skin was beyond his knowledge. Atria had mysterious ways, at times. Which were also annoying. He preferred to know absolutely everything she did, everywhere she went, anyone she spoke to. She must've thought he was just as possessive and controlling as a dragon.
Well, he'd punish her for that too.
The paste felt comfortable, though. It made his eyes stand out, she'd told him softly, a little proudly, like they might be glowing. And she'd fashioned wings from a litter of branches, twigs, and fallen leaves. He couldn't stretch them out like real wings, of course, but they were settled quite neatly over his back and sides, shielding his ribs just like a baby dragon's wings might.
Fine, he sort of liked her description of it. He was elegant, but yet terrifying, striking fear in the pitiful hearts of those that would see him. Just like his sire did.
He'd like that very much, their fear.
He wanted to see it, taste it. Smell it in the air.
Although, a dragon, a demon. They could be the same thing, right? Possibly. And well did he know where he came from, the son of the Dark God. He knew it the day he was born, when Carnage himself came down to Beqanna, appeared before them and named his son. Cursed him, perhaps. Decimate. What he was destined to do in the deadliest ways, the most traumatic ways. Decimate a civilization, decimate a person's body, even. Or their minds, emotions. He wanted to deliver the most wicked mayhem that would make his sire a semblance of proud, which was hard to achieve when a God likely didn't feel pride.
There were rules, though.
He would only take away by a tenth.
Leave them in their agony, unfulfilled.
And it would be delightful.
The malicious light in his eyes shined brighter, and he began searching for this creature with untold promises. Deci would defeat him, perhaps violently, and then take his prize. He'd leave this place and show his sister, since she refused to die. And his mother, who he hadn't bothered to try killing. A waste of effort, he was sure. He'd already seen how she healed when he would lash out. The cuts on her always sealed themselves back up.
So he'd find this beast and then return to show them. It was the Beach that he searched. This was where his life began, in this fitting place where they all went to die. Of course this taunting thing with a dark sort of game would be found here. Where else could be better suited? Nowhere. This was the place of death. The place of his victory.
Though he couldn't see far enough in front of him to follow hoof prints, or any kind of prints, he pressed forward regardless, with his head held high and the galaxies over his legs flickering in breaks through the thick fog. His little nostrils pulled in every scent, still learning to analyze them accurately. There were certainly new aromas here tonight. Smoke was not one he knew, but one he would be very eager to learn.
He would find this thing and destroy it.
Lure it out however he must.
Become a new sort of Reckoning.
But first, he had to get to it.
<p class="decimate_quote">can the killer in me tame the fire in you?</p> <p class="decimate_quotetwo">I am sick of the chase but I'm hungry for blood</p> </div> </div> </center>
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Like the most redundant gong of a bell, it sounded through the land, reverberating through his ears, over and over and over again. Pounding in his head. So damn irritating. And grating. Much like his clenched teeth would be had he been old enough to have any. Which he'd of course use to silence this fool that wouldn't shut the hell up.
<i>"I’ve brought a challenge to all you dears, one that requires you face your fears! Don’t you dare cower, don’t avert your eyes, for if you succeed, you will earn your prize."</i>
He rolled his bright eyes and kept walking, shook his small head. He didn't have any fears. And he wasn't playing some stupid game. He had enough pushing about that from his little sister. And anyway, everything should fear <i>him</i>, didn't the guy know that? No? Well, Decimate could teach him. Gladly. Although...
Well, he wasn't opposed to prizes.
Whatever that even meant.
And what the hell was up with the lights? Did it make the guy feel all special to shove a fog in his face like that and make the world go dark? Yeah, real impressed. He was born in the shadows of hell. He'd never be afraid of the dark. Let him come here for real, and Deci would bite his damn face off. Or kick it in, at least, since the lack of teeth thing. Then who'd be left in the dark, huh?
<i>“Show me your very best disguise and search for the place victory lies. Bring me your best trick or bring me a treat! Tonight I’m the one that you must defeat.”</i>
Defeating was easy enough, and a dark grin twisted his mouth, malice shadowing his young eyes. The disguise, too, his sister had volunteered herself to do. Insisted, really, despite his sharp, violent protests. No matter how he attacked though, she only went incorporeal, a ghost literally, and her punishment went unfulfilled. It was the most infuriating thing about her yet. And really, just to shut her up, he finally allowed her to have her way.
This time.
But he would find a way to break her.
Now, here he was. A dragon, she had said. Glittering and shimmering, his body was a metallic sort of rusty gold and vibrant green. How she created the mixture that she'd smeared over his perfectly indigo skin was beyond his knowledge. Atria had mysterious ways, at times. Which were also annoying. He preferred to know absolutely everything she did, everywhere she went, anyone she spoke to. She must've thought he was just as possessive and controlling as a dragon.
Well, he'd punish her for that too.
The paste felt comfortable, though. It made his eyes stand out, she'd told him softly, a little proudly, like they might be glowing. And she'd fashioned wings from a litter of branches, twigs, and fallen leaves. He couldn't stretch them out like real wings, of course, but they were settled quite neatly over his back and sides, shielding his ribs just like a baby dragon's wings might.
Fine, he sort of liked her description of it. He was elegant, but yet terrifying, striking fear in the pitiful hearts of those that would see him. Just like his sire did.
He'd like that very much, their fear.
He wanted to see it, taste it. Smell it in the air.
Although, a dragon, a demon. They could be the same thing, right? Possibly. And well did he know where he came from, the son of the Dark God. He knew it the day he was born, when Carnage himself came down to Beqanna, appeared before them and named his son. Cursed him, perhaps. Decimate. What he was destined to do in the deadliest ways, the most traumatic ways. Decimate a civilization, decimate a person's body, even. Or their minds, emotions. He wanted to deliver the most wicked mayhem that would make his sire a semblance of proud, which was hard to achieve when a God likely didn't feel pride.
There were rules, though.
He would only take away by a tenth.
Leave them in their agony, unfulfilled.
And it would be delightful.
The malicious light in his eyes shined brighter, and he began searching for this creature with untold promises. Deci would defeat him, perhaps violently, and then take his prize. He'd leave this place and show his sister, since she refused to die. And his mother, who he hadn't bothered to try killing. A waste of effort, he was sure. He'd already seen how she healed when he would lash out. The cuts on her always sealed themselves back up.
So he'd find this beast and then return to show them. It was the Beach that he searched. This was where his life began, in this fitting place where they all went to die. Of course this taunting thing with a dark sort of game would be found here. Where else could be better suited? Nowhere. This was the place of death. The place of his victory.
Though he couldn't see far enough in front of him to follow hoof prints, or any kind of prints, he pressed forward regardless, with his head held high and the galaxies over his legs flickering in breaks through the thick fog. His little nostrils pulled in every scent, still learning to analyze them accurately. There were certainly new aromas here tonight. Smoke was not one he knew, but one he would be very eager to learn.
He would find this thing and destroy it.
Lure it out however he must.
Become a new sort of Reckoning.
But first, he had to get to it.
<p class="decimate_quote">can the killer in me tame the fire in you?</p> <p class="decimate_quotetwo">I am sick of the chase but I'm hungry for blood</p> </div> </div> </center>