remember who you are; warrick

[Warrick]

we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight

The God - Carnage, his father - grows impatient, thunder rumbling idly within the bellows of the cloud and lightning that roil and illuminate beneath it. Warrick can feel a similar feeling boiling inside his own soul, though it is nothing compared to the ferocity or power of the being that presents itself before him. The osprey-King is defenseless, save for the feeble accusation that sputters from his lips, but he nevertheless faces the God-King with a pridefulness that could easily be his own undoing. It is not possible and Warrick would not accept it - there is no way that the blood of Carnage runs in his veins, the one who took eyes out of his closest friends and succumbed Tangerine into a chamber of torture. 

It cannot be possible.

But there is - within the anger of his auburn face and gritting of his teeth as he hovers and darts before Carnage’s eyes - a glimmer of hesitancy, of unsureness. A flicker of doubt, suppressed behind adrenaline and rage, but enough that Carnage easily finds it, and holds onto it with a dark and terrible grip. Words are merely words as they come from the lips of a false god, and Warrick holds his unwavering gaze as he riddles off about Orani. The stallion’s lips tremble with anger and his blood pulsates vividly beneath his skin, silent. It’s when the thundercloud-stallion brings up Tangerine - a very real being, who he indeed suffered at Carnage’s mighty power, that he could no longer bear it. He’s nearly done with the whole act - a god like Carnage could prattle on about many things and still be a liar, so it is not until images play before him that Warrick’s aggression begins to fade, leaving a wide-eyed boy staring into the depths of despair. 

Orani was unmistakable, even if only created out of memory. He is not longer the Overseer, but a child as her appearance fades in and out before him. But Carnage has defiled the memory, ruined it for the sake of a laugh. 

“Enough,”

Warrick’s voice is deep and solemn, his cerulean eyes hooded beneath his furrowed brow. But Carnage has not had enough, and quickly the image changes as Carnage’s own memories of Tangerine are set before him, to relive them not only in Tangerine’s mind but now in his own. It plays out differently, seeing it instead of only imagining what she had told him - how he had lured her, how she had gone to him…

Everything you have, was mine first.

White hot anger and hatred - something that Warrick has never truly felt until now - boils over and turns him blind.

“Enough!”

He bellows, propelling himself forward into the only figure of Carnage (of his father) that he knew. There is no logical reasoning or thought behind it as he sends himself into the fray (would Carnage dissipate, would he die?) but the outcomes didn’t matter, nothing mattered;

not anymore. 

Warrick

@[Carnage]