06-19-2018, 10:21 AM
we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight There is darkness in all of us. His jaw clenches, the muscle in his face jumping with the force in which he grinds his teeth together. Dark, oceanic eyes stare at the ground, the shadow of his brow furrowing in a myriad of thoughts and disappointment. Despite the truth of his lineage (from the stars, his mother had told him), the Overseer still clings to a sliver of promise that perhaps the tainted blood is merely just blood - there is no power in blood, and it is spilled so easily and without much thought. Perhaps the darkness would never overcome him. But maybe it would. The pressure of skin pulling and then breaking pulls him from his reverie, ears flicking into his neck as he whirls his face too meet hers, his own mouth bared in haste. The world of Beqanna has become that much darker with Sylva’s threat (not to mention Warrick’s own threat at his back), and the harshness in which he reaches is not directed at Kagerus, but the surprising pain that she has inflicted. He is on edge, and as his lips come to cover the bluntness of his teeth, a single ear flicks towards her. He can smell the metallic tinge of his blood in the air and his nostrils flutter angrily. Though her gesture had been painful, her words are blunt and true. His lips press together firmly, a sharp snort leaving him. “My blood,” he begins, pausing at the actual sound of his own voice, the sensation of dripping blood tingling his skin, “is of Carnage.” There is anger in his voice at the confession, bringing truth to the dark god’s parentage. Warrick’s ears are flat against his mane, his dark eyes looking onward and away from Kagerus. “I am not who I thought I was.” Adding this, his voice is less rageful and more defeated, a deep inhale followed by a shuddering sigh. Of the stars, but in a way he could never have imagined. warrick |
credit to vel of adoxography.
@[Kagerus]