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03-02-2016, 09:43 AM
Ashamin
Where the knife was stuck, electricity flew. It was harmless, but Ashamin thought he could feel it burning him as it flared in his face. It was a violent outburst, one fitting of such a violent act. Ashamin could only see one thing at a time, and what he saw then was destruction in its purest form. The manifestation looked back at him with the same incomprehension that the stranger wore so clearly. They matched each other, expressions perfectly hurt in a way that maybe they did not understand but Ashamin, oh, Ashamin... The painted buck had been born and left alone in hurt. Now he lived as a teacher and seer, someone whose job it was to collect and share knowledge. All the stag ever seemed to have to give, though--all he ever seemed to know well enough to share--was pain. Everything he did, every move he made, was just spreading it. He could barely make out the mare through his magic apparition but he could see her well enough to see that look on her face, a look so purely innocent and lacking understanding of that lesson that he felt he had betrayed her. It wasn't a look he would ever be able to forget. Perhaps his magic would have lasted for a few more seconds, lived long enough to change its face, but when the dagger struck the haruspex all concentration was lost. The mare's throw was weak, likely due to her own injuries, but it had enough force behind it to be cutting. The long and sharpened edge of the blade hit the haruspex with blunt force, and though he had avoided the point with luck he did not avoid broken flesh. Electricity jumped from the cut on his left thigh, crackling and spinning around a thin red line that had drawn itself there. His mouth was forced open with a pained, grunting sort of neigh and with that Mriga dropped, landing before him with an unceremonious thud. The last of the electricity before him burst, the suddenness of his magic's failure mirroring his shock at the mare's attack. As his head snapped back to look at the injury, it didn't occur to him that the electricity was from his own being. Rather he looked to the mare, surprised that any weapon of hers would be blessed with the Time God's power. She didn't seem like the type to have his magic. Stunned, the stag watched the blood drip down her, watched for the first time the full extent of his powers. On his cheek electricity still hummed, slowly beginning to knit back together the scrapes. A glimmer of blood moved from the crackling shallow cut on his thigh and dripped, hot and wax-like, down his leg. She called him a coward, then, but all he could at first do was stand. His jaw was slack, his black eyes were wide, and he felt cold. It was Rakt this time--not Lochan, who still watched the new dragon with care--who noticed the clods of earth being tugged out of the ground by insistent, unseen lips, and sent a flash of it in pictoral, bloody warning. The few chunks that didn't fall short already were avoided with a few uneasy steps back, every other one of which was accompanied by a pained twist of his lips as the shallow but bruised blade-cut was forced to shift alongside the haruspex's unbroken flesh. Ashamin couldn't figure out why it didn't hurt as much as it should have. Her taunts couldn't anger him now. He was too broken to be so easily egged on. The painted buck just looked at her, tried to find her golden eyes and catch them with his own for a moment. "What do you want from me?" he asked as the fang on his necklace began to hover, to expand, to shift. "You don't even know me," he seemed to beg as he slowly walked towards her--chest glowing and eyes wet, heart broken in every way it could be. "You've called me so many things," he tried to explain as he kept stepping closer, kept wondering if she would move away. "You've tried so many ways to turn me into a monster," he pleaded, muffled now beneath the cover of an ancient god's deathmask. "How do you know that I can be that for you?" He paused where he stood--close to her, above her, and on her left if she'd not moved--and let his head drop for a moment. The soft glowing of his chest almost hurt when he remembered how tenderly Hotaru had painted the mark there. "HOW DO YOU KNOW ME SO WELL?" he screamed at last, his final words before lunging for the mare's crest with open jaws to tear her open again. "" |
WC: 800/800 (wordcounter.net)
AP: 3/4
:: [ Item: Bear God Mask | Defensive. Bear god skull from Rift SWP that can be summoned via crystal and grants the wearer jaw strength of a bear ]
:: [ Restrictions | Same weight collapsed or worn; bite only lasts for 5 seconds before strength wears off ]
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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