.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-25-2016, 06:55 AM
Art by Neverr ♥
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Somewhere deep within, the fury started to smolder—like wind sparking up the blue coals, tongues of flame licking the white-burnt ruin and seeking life. Purchase. Anything to burn in the furnace of his wrath.
Was this the world he wanted to live in? To defend, undying, until the ages came at long last to their end..? These people—these selfish, arrogant people—were they worth this torment?
You chose this he reminded himself, watching the bodies twist and turn in violence. And if you break that fucker into a million pieces, you'll be just as bad as they are. His straying eyes found Lyanna, who offered him a nod; he returned it, distant and thoughtful. The emotions snaking beneath his skin and falling from his lips like poisoned words ceased, and he grew still. Focused.
A child burst onto the scene. Crying. Screaming. Questioning why they let this happen—and Mauja questioned it too, as he watched the battle. Was ego worth the blood? Was ego worth the tears? Was ego worth it, to look like fools in the eyes of the future?
His jaws pressed together. He told himself it wasn't the crying child, told himself it was just common sense firing up his urge to end this show of stupidity, but he couldn't fool himself, not entirely; it always shamed him when others saw clearer, and when others had to make him act. Shouldn't he have done something about this long ago? What kind of sacred rule allowed them to fight like spoiled brats over everything?
Helovia was lawless and violent and he hated it.
One man was not enough to stop the tide.
The gelding was laughing, giggling, finding traction in the mud and hounding Raeden towards the edge. The fucking edge. Over a rank.
The only reason Mauja would ever step within five feet of the bastard was to separate his cowardly heart from his arteries.
His stillness froze into a pose of cold fury, the anger a reek rolling off him in waves. "THIS IS A RANK CHALLENGE!" he screamed at them, his weapons like fangs bared in waiting, little nubs of ice studding the ground around him as his wrath threatened to break him and, by extension, break the gelding.
He'd spear the fucker if he didn't stop hounding Raeden towards the her doom.
Was this the world he wanted to live in? To defend, undying, until the ages came at long last to their end..? These people—these selfish, arrogant people—were they worth this torment?
You chose this he reminded himself, watching the bodies twist and turn in violence. And if you break that fucker into a million pieces, you'll be just as bad as they are. His straying eyes found Lyanna, who offered him a nod; he returned it, distant and thoughtful. The emotions snaking beneath his skin and falling from his lips like poisoned words ceased, and he grew still. Focused.
A child burst onto the scene. Crying. Screaming. Questioning why they let this happen—and Mauja questioned it too, as he watched the battle. Was ego worth the blood? Was ego worth the tears? Was ego worth it, to look like fools in the eyes of the future?
His jaws pressed together. He told himself it wasn't the crying child, told himself it was just common sense firing up his urge to end this show of stupidity, but he couldn't fool himself, not entirely; it always shamed him when others saw clearer, and when others had to make him act. Shouldn't he have done something about this long ago? What kind of sacred rule allowed them to fight like spoiled brats over everything?
Helovia was lawless and violent and he hated it.
One man was not enough to stop the tide.
The gelding was laughing, giggling, finding traction in the mud and hounding Raeden towards the edge. The fucking edge. Over a rank.
The only reason Mauja would ever step within five feet of the bastard was to separate his cowardly heart from his arteries.
His stillness froze into a pose of cold fury, the anger a reek rolling off him in waves. "THIS IS A RANK CHALLENGE!" he screamed at them, his weapons like fangs bared in waiting, little nubs of ice studding the ground around him as his wrath threatened to break him and, by extension, break the gelding.
He'd spear the fucker if he didn't stop hounding Raeden towards the her doom.
