the Rift


angels weep in fear [basin tourney]

Belial Posts: 33
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Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 5 Buff: NOVICE
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#1
Demonchild waits on the shore of the sea, steam rising in tense coils from the surging of muscles, the furious beast. He imagines himself a creature of lore, a curse sent from hell to devour the wicked. Teeth, he has teeth, and the sharpest of claws; body rigid with spines, he's a demon, a god, blood red in the darkness and pitch black in the light. From two-tone slitted eyes he surveys the bleak ground, and the clench of his claw frees dark trees from the soil, tears a rend in the earth and destroys the lam. His adversary's absence leaves the monster enraged, and he raises his head to the sharp, dusky sky. The noise that emits shakes through heaven and hell, more a feeling than sound, less a bellow than roar. It rattles mountains and tears down snow, and the angels weep in fear.

And in collision of space between heaven and hell, a stallion screams beneath the sobbing sky.

Autumn rains down on the shore of the lake, and the chill icy water stings bright on his skin. He grins as it bleeds through the thick silver mane, shivering excitement and anger and lust. Kill, kill, kill! cries the crazed Seraph's son, his mind a dark labyrinth of black thorns and decay. What whirls around behind bicolored eyes, what horrors hide deep in that treacherous skull? The demonson's anger suspends far from his grasp; it's the beast that surrounds him, the rearing, red rage. He hates it, he hates them, and he hates her the most, her coldness and laughter, her meaningless looks. He wishes he could tear her jugular open, bite into her neck with a predator's fangs and wash in the blood that runs hot through his veins.

Broad hooves tear the ground, shifts mahogany weight, digging into soft earth rendered softer by rain. Silver forelock is kept from his eyes by the line of black horns; instead it lies softly tangled against the damp of his blaze, falls with the rain into the puddle of rage at his feet and threatens to flow away along with all reason, all ties to the world. Fuck fuck fuck fuck and in hatred he's blind. Machinery, manic, he is steel and blood. The demon is total, the angel's son gone. He knows he's to fight, he must fight, that there's no other way. He knows and he wants it, wants it deep in his soul; he needs it, he craves it, and the foe matters not. They're all only her, her eyes and her laugh and her breakable bones.

Will this win her approval?

Will his mother, at last, look at him, and not through?

Will you love me now, mommy?

Does she know how to love?

[ @[Torleik]
0/3 | 0/2 magic. Setting: Near the shore of the lake, in a broad patch of tundra. It's afternoon, raining hard, and has been for a while. Belial's monster isn't an illusion (yet), it's all in his head for now. You can open. Good luck!

Edited the OOC bit only, because I'm a boob. ]
Belial the Demonchild
Even the devil was once an angel


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Messages In This Thread
angels weep in fear [basin tourney] - by Belial - 01-03-2014, 05:50 AM
RE: angels weep in fear [basin tourney] - by Blu - 03-24-2014, 11:52 AM
RE: angels weep in fear [basin tourney] - by Blu - 04-13-2014, 01:25 PM

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