remember who you are; warrick

[Carnage]

and lord, I fashion dark gods too;

Carnage was never much for family.
Not that he thinks of them as family, any more. The things that conceived and birthed him were mortal, as was he, once. It was lifetimes ago. The body Thaqib birthed is long gone, immolated, and the body that exists now is a thing of his own making. His own magic (he was born magic, true, but along the way he’s stolen others, stockpiled it).
His children are legion, and he rarely parents them. He appears on occasion, to praise or chastise them (mostly the latter).
Gail is like family, as much a mate as he’ll even have, but she’s in the afterlife, trapped, kept there by a magic even he cannot defy. He visits, sometimes, there on deathly shores, and in those moments he a sweetness that feels strange on his skin.

But his family isn’t being questioned here. It’s that of the boy. Warrick, who stands there, looking at the dark god in all his strange glory, asking the question. Stranding his ground.
The dark god laughs, and in the sky, it sounds like thunder.
“Well, Warrick,” he says, “your mother, who can say, or care? But your father, well…”
Another laugh. Another peal of thunder.
“You’re looking at him.”

c a r n a g e