05-23-2021, 12:02 PM
The trees go out, and that's all I came to see. The rain I call is steaming where it hits, but the tongues of flame put up little enough fight. Less than the cadaverous spector is promising to give.
My mouth curls in a cruel grin at his self-assured rebuttal. The smile falters as a strange metamorphosis takes hold of his already-eerie visage. Wet, blood-stained flesh thickens the shape of his face, and it does nothing to improve his looks. Vain thing that I am, I can't help but find fault in something that takes so much apparent joy in being disgusting.
That becomes ever more clear as the tendrils of rancid smoke leaks forth, writhing with the basest life. It reaches me, and fills me. A violation that I have the presence of mind to be furious with before it overtakes me.
The memories are violent things, abhorrent and ugly. History, I realize, of the very place I'm standing. When I first came to Sylva, many years ago, it stood half burned and empty. I had been naive then. Still looking for a greater good that I've since learned doesn't exist.
"Gryffen," I purr in tandem with the Nymph, my voice an intrigued counterpoint to her revulsion. I shake the squirming maggots from my foreleg, distasteful of their existence. Her reaction is telling. He is the one from Before, and there's no mistaking it. Harbinger? Perhaps. Of what, is less certain. I shake the last vestiges of his effects from my skin, flickers of electricity sparking along the rivulets time has carved into my flesh.
I watch her with ill-disguised amusement. More history, it seems. The rain begins to fall, hard and fast, and I spread my opaline wings to catch it. My eyes are hooded, fractionated as I pass from one old being to the other, a mocking smile on my lips as I exhale the last of his smoke. "Did no one ever tell you not to shit where you eat?" I asked with a droll rolling of my own eyes.
"No wonder you fell," I chide, approaching the gaunt thing just as the blossoming girl retreats "I encourage chaos, I really do. But talking yourself down with it, that's just... Stupid, really." The spear in my chest pulses, blood leaking from the edges of an eternally unhealed wound to spatter at my feet. The stain is temporary, washed away by water that is quickly oversaturating the soil beneath.
@[Gryffen] @[Nikoline]
My mouth curls in a cruel grin at his self-assured rebuttal. The smile falters as a strange metamorphosis takes hold of his already-eerie visage. Wet, blood-stained flesh thickens the shape of his face, and it does nothing to improve his looks. Vain thing that I am, I can't help but find fault in something that takes so much apparent joy in being disgusting.
That becomes ever more clear as the tendrils of rancid smoke leaks forth, writhing with the basest life. It reaches me, and fills me. A violation that I have the presence of mind to be furious with before it overtakes me.
The memories are violent things, abhorrent and ugly. History, I realize, of the very place I'm standing. When I first came to Sylva, many years ago, it stood half burned and empty. I had been naive then. Still looking for a greater good that I've since learned doesn't exist.
"Gryffen," I purr in tandem with the Nymph, my voice an intrigued counterpoint to her revulsion. I shake the squirming maggots from my foreleg, distasteful of their existence. Her reaction is telling. He is the one from Before, and there's no mistaking it. Harbinger? Perhaps. Of what, is less certain. I shake the last vestiges of his effects from my skin, flickers of electricity sparking along the rivulets time has carved into my flesh.
I watch her with ill-disguised amusement. More history, it seems. The rain begins to fall, hard and fast, and I spread my opaline wings to catch it. My eyes are hooded, fractionated as I pass from one old being to the other, a mocking smile on my lips as I exhale the last of his smoke. "Did no one ever tell you not to shit where you eat?" I asked with a droll rolling of my own eyes.
"No wonder you fell," I chide, approaching the gaunt thing just as the blossoming girl retreats "I encourage chaos, I really do. But talking yourself down with it, that's just... Stupid, really." The spear in my chest pulses, blood leaking from the edges of an eternally unhealed wound to spatter at my feet. The stain is temporary, washed away by water that is quickly oversaturating the soil beneath.
@[Gryffen] @[Nikoline]