06-28-2018, 10:50 AM
there was a heaven in youbut god there's a devil in me
There was a part of him that still held onto the idea that there is a sliver of good in everyone - a piece of his soul that clings to the benefit of a doubt. This is the first time, however, that he is questioning that intricate part of himself; feeling the harboring of uncertainty once again firmly grip his in his throat. The stretching of the disease into the golden inland plains of his homeland causes the Overseer to bristle, helplessly taking steps back as it reaches for them. His ears become hidden beneath the thickness of his mane, the curve of his neck showing the tautness of the muscles beneath the auburn skin, and his jaw champing wildly with adrenaline as her threat becomes all the more clear.
Do you not have wolves at your door?
He does not hear anything beyond the thinly veiled threat that creeps towards them with uncontrollable power, deadly fingers poised to wrap around their heels. Once again wickedness has come to him, curled at his feet like a viper. He notices nothing - not Ajatar’ s attempt to restrain her mother's orders, or that Harmonia's own body stiffens with effort and exhaustion - only the disease that unfolds before him, threatening the safety of everything he had ever known and loved.
Without a thought, the Overseer shoves Wound away from the spreading plague with the brunt of his shoulder, wings unfurling in the same movement. He does not know with what force he has ushered her away, only that he needed her gone from the area. “Go, now.” His voice is unnaturally calm and dark as he commands her, only a few swipes of his navy wings against Tephra's humid air allowing him to become airborne.
The heat of the volcano suddenly is at his side as he hovers nearly two yards above the dead earth, his cerulean gaze leaving Harmonia’s face for the first time. It is Longclaw that radiates with such intense heat as the blue warg is overcome with familiar blue flame. The stallion has not moved to safety but Warrick has no time to consider this as a beam of fire shoots forward into the palomino mare, causing the navy stallion's eyes to close because of the heat and brightness. The smell of burning flesh immediately stings the Overseer’s nostrils, the heat itself sending him higher into the air with steady beats of his large wingspan.
When the sound of sputtering and coughing replaces the screams of burning skin peeling away from the bone, Warrick finds the dying form of his friend. The disease riddles the organs of the blue stallion, blood pooling from his open mouth as the light in his eyes snuffs out with a single, curdling breath.
A sound that would perhaps haunt Warrick for an eternity.
Rage - white hot and undeniably filling each crevice of his body - becomes the only thing Warrick can see. He can do nothing but attempt to finish the job that Longclaw had started. The winged stallion has no fire, nor any ability that could match the one that spreads purposefully across Tephra’s inland plains, but it didn’t matter. Warrick sweeps himself over Harmonia, forehooves curling beneath his body to meet her ribcage with the force of flying wings and his broad chest, throwing his entire weight into her so that they both tumble to the ground behind her, where the disease is not.
He does not know what kind of shape she is in (is she already dead?), clumsily clambering to his feet with outstretched wings. The Overseer has nothing but his own sheer will and strength - but it would have to be enough, for it is all he has. Rearing, he finds his forelegs targeting the parts of her that had been peeled away by Longclaw’s fire, not caring if the thin tissue gave way beneath his weight or if bones would easily snap with each powerful thrust. There is blood on his chest and face (pieces of skin, perhaps) but he is not sure if she will rise to meet him, so he does not stop.
He would fight her forever until her spell no longer had a master.
Do you not have wolves at your door?
He does not hear anything beyond the thinly veiled threat that creeps towards them with uncontrollable power, deadly fingers poised to wrap around their heels. Once again wickedness has come to him, curled at his feet like a viper. He notices nothing - not Ajatar’ s attempt to restrain her mother's orders, or that Harmonia's own body stiffens with effort and exhaustion - only the disease that unfolds before him, threatening the safety of everything he had ever known and loved.
Without a thought, the Overseer shoves Wound away from the spreading plague with the brunt of his shoulder, wings unfurling in the same movement. He does not know with what force he has ushered her away, only that he needed her gone from the area. “Go, now.” His voice is unnaturally calm and dark as he commands her, only a few swipes of his navy wings against Tephra's humid air allowing him to become airborne.
The heat of the volcano suddenly is at his side as he hovers nearly two yards above the dead earth, his cerulean gaze leaving Harmonia’s face for the first time. It is Longclaw that radiates with such intense heat as the blue warg is overcome with familiar blue flame. The stallion has not moved to safety but Warrick has no time to consider this as a beam of fire shoots forward into the palomino mare, causing the navy stallion's eyes to close because of the heat and brightness. The smell of burning flesh immediately stings the Overseer’s nostrils, the heat itself sending him higher into the air with steady beats of his large wingspan.
When the sound of sputtering and coughing replaces the screams of burning skin peeling away from the bone, Warrick finds the dying form of his friend. The disease riddles the organs of the blue stallion, blood pooling from his open mouth as the light in his eyes snuffs out with a single, curdling breath.
A sound that would perhaps haunt Warrick for an eternity.
Rage - white hot and undeniably filling each crevice of his body - becomes the only thing Warrick can see. He can do nothing but attempt to finish the job that Longclaw had started. The winged stallion has no fire, nor any ability that could match the one that spreads purposefully across Tephra’s inland plains, but it didn’t matter. Warrick sweeps himself over Harmonia, forehooves curling beneath his body to meet her ribcage with the force of flying wings and his broad chest, throwing his entire weight into her so that they both tumble to the ground behind her, where the disease is not.
He does not know what kind of shape she is in (is she already dead?), clumsily clambering to his feet with outstretched wings. The Overseer has nothing but his own sheer will and strength - but it would have to be enough, for it is all he has. Rearing, he finds his forelegs targeting the parts of her that had been peeled away by Longclaw’s fire, not caring if the thin tissue gave way beneath his weight or if bones would easily snap with each powerful thrust. There is blood on his chest and face (pieces of skin, perhaps) but he is not sure if she will rise to meet him, so he does not stop.
He would fight her forever until her spell no longer had a master.
WARRICK
@[Harmonia] / @[wound]
Harmonia is free to attempt to defend herself obviously
Let me know if I need to change anything!