08-25-2019, 10:15 PM
draco
Draco thinks he is cursed, spat upon by the gods and forgotten - at least, just by the gods. He walks amongst mere mortals, peasants (except for his sister that he begrudgingly loves . . . though, her kindness makes her weak). Kept by such small, regrettable company, he cannot say he is forgotten. The fear and confusion in their eyes gives him the only recognition he needs: those that experience his fear will never forget the magic that snapped their spines into place.
A god’s magic, if you will.
Against the tree he resides, head tilted lazily to shimmering jewel-tones of autumn leaves. From a distance he may look sweet, perhaps even tranquil, but upon further inspection one will find a gleam in his eye that begs to raze each crinkly leaf. That’s why I keep my distance, he thinks with snark, mouth turning into a smirk as he slowly drifts his attention back to the ground. A little shit, that is what the colt is, an honest and true entitled son of a king.
Whatever.
The snap of a twig drags him from his thoughts, and he straightens with a start. The demon boy cusses at himself when he spots the hellhound. A normal child might feel fear, but Draco numbed himself to the rush of endorphins a mere month into his existence; that, and he thinks she is goddamn beautiful. What a fucking sight to see.
“Come here.” A demand, albeit one void of the typical fear-inducement in his eyes.
A god’s magic, if you will.
Against the tree he resides, head tilted lazily to shimmering jewel-tones of autumn leaves. From a distance he may look sweet, perhaps even tranquil, but upon further inspection one will find a gleam in his eye that begs to raze each crinkly leaf. That’s why I keep my distance, he thinks with snark, mouth turning into a smirk as he slowly drifts his attention back to the ground. A little shit, that is what the colt is, an honest and true entitled son of a king.
Whatever.
The snap of a twig drags him from his thoughts, and he straightens with a start. The demon boy cusses at himself when he spots the hellhound. A normal child might feel fear, but Draco numbed himself to the rush of endorphins a mere month into his existence; that, and he thinks she is goddamn beautiful. What a fucking sight to see.
“Come here.” A demand, albeit one void of the typical fear-inducement in his eyes.
play it cool then smart, don't take it to heart
@[despoina]