'ɓเɠ ɠαყ' รσ૨εყ (
monolike) wrote in
driftfleet2016-09-05 10:11 am
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(no subject)
Who: Mikleo (
nerdeology), Dezel (
sylphystia), Zaveid (
airily) & Sorey (
monolike)
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Solrius's surface, outskirts of town + wilderness
When: Around 9/5~9/6
[The last time he was anything close to feeling like this was the battlefield at Glaivend Basin. Malevolence hung thick in the air like smoke, stuck to his hair and clothes and choked his every breath. He remembers colors going blurry sometimes during the fighting; there was screaming, always screaming, of men dying, running from battle, falling on the swords of their own allies. Sorey had Lailah and the others then to anchor him; they turned his head for him when he couldn't, they reached into his heart and soothed it when it pounded too hard.
The feelings are like before but here, in the valleys of the mountains, the only sound is the whistle of wind through the crags and his dusty footsteps as he slips over gravel.
No soothing pulse of the elements inside of him.
No gentle hands turning his head.]
I came out here on my own, [Sorey tells himself harshly, but it rings empty and he knows it's not working. He can't just talk himself out of becoming malevolent. Isn't that why it didn't work with Nightingale?]
Ohhhh, [Sorey moans, stopping and dropping his head into his hands. He'd shoved her. He might've hurt her. Maybe not physically but- she'd opened her heart to him and he'd just run.
I had to. She'd tell Mikleo and then Mikleo would-
It's not that-] -simple, [he chokes out, and lifts his head to press onward. He'd bought food and water for some reason, but touches none of it.] Not that simple. [He's supposed to rely on his friends to help keep him on the path, but what does he do when they're the reason he's fallen off of it?
It's not their fault.] It's not Mikleo's fault, [Sorey hisses. He's too used to having voices in his head. Without them there it feels empty. He needs someone to talk to.] It's not Dezel's fault. [He needs to keep his promises.] It's not Zaveid's fault. [He needs to let them know they're needed.
He's not doing a good enough job. If Lailah was here-
If Lailah could tell him what to do-]
Stop blaming Lailah! [Sorey staggers against a cliff face and smacks a hand against it. His heart feels too tight and too big in his chest all at once. An expanding bubble, empty but still taking up too much space. He wants it out. He wants it to burst already.
How does Dezel do this?]
Lailah, [Sorey hiccups, shoulder against the cliff, sinking down into a crouch as tears sting his eyes. The air smells like malevolence, thick and smokey and choking.] I screwed up. I- I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't careful. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.
[The wind howls as it tears through the crags.]
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Broadcast: n/a
Action: Solrius's surface, outskirts of town + wilderness
When: Around 9/5~9/6
[The last time he was anything close to feeling like this was the battlefield at Glaivend Basin. Malevolence hung thick in the air like smoke, stuck to his hair and clothes and choked his every breath. He remembers colors going blurry sometimes during the fighting; there was screaming, always screaming, of men dying, running from battle, falling on the swords of their own allies. Sorey had Lailah and the others then to anchor him; they turned his head for him when he couldn't, they reached into his heart and soothed it when it pounded too hard.
The feelings are like before but here, in the valleys of the mountains, the only sound is the whistle of wind through the crags and his dusty footsteps as he slips over gravel.
No soothing pulse of the elements inside of him.
No gentle hands turning his head.]
I came out here on my own, [Sorey tells himself harshly, but it rings empty and he knows it's not working. He can't just talk himself out of becoming malevolent. Isn't that why it didn't work with Nightingale?]
Ohhhh, [Sorey moans, stopping and dropping his head into his hands. He'd shoved her. He might've hurt her. Maybe not physically but- she'd opened her heart to him and he'd just run.
I had to. She'd tell Mikleo and then Mikleo would-
It's not that-] -simple, [he chokes out, and lifts his head to press onward. He'd bought food and water for some reason, but touches none of it.] Not that simple. [He's supposed to rely on his friends to help keep him on the path, but what does he do when they're the reason he's fallen off of it?
It's not their fault.] It's not Mikleo's fault, [Sorey hisses. He's too used to having voices in his head. Without them there it feels empty. He needs someone to talk to.] It's not Dezel's fault. [He needs to keep his promises.] It's not Zaveid's fault. [He needs to let them know they're needed.
He's not doing a good enough job. If Lailah was here-
If Lailah could tell him what to do-]
Stop blaming Lailah! [Sorey staggers against a cliff face and smacks a hand against it. His heart feels too tight and too big in his chest all at once. An expanding bubble, empty but still taking up too much space. He wants it out. He wants it to burst already.
How does Dezel do this?]
Lailah, [Sorey hiccups, shoulder against the cliff, sinking down into a crouch as tears sting his eyes. The air smells like malevolence, thick and smokey and choking.] I screwed up. I- I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't careful. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.
[The wind howls as it tears through the crags.]
no subject
The voice he knows, because it sounds like Sorey, but at the same time it sounds like someone he can't recognize anymore.
mine
am I...?
mine
...Sorey...
mine
...it hurts...
Something tears at his back, limbs he's not supposed to have bursting out of his body. There are hands on his face, holding him close, whispering in his head- in his heart- in his soul. Hesitantly he opens his eyes, sees the hellion holding on to him. He sees the void where once he found eyes that used to dance and smile before his lips even knew he was happy. He sees an emptiness where once was a mouth that could talk and talk all night about everything and nothing until someone stuffed food into it to make him stop.
mine
It stops hurting, all of a sudden. He stops screaming. All he can see, hear, feel, is Sorey. This thing that is Sorey, that was Sorey, that is, and he's right. It's okay.
He'll be okay.
And then Sorey turns from him, reaches out towards the others. He starts to say a name, and it isn't Mikleo's name, and he feels something cold and hateful in his soul that he's never felt before. It digs deep into his very core and at the same time his claws sink into Sorey's arms, just enough to tell him, to remind him--
not him
NOT HIM]
Luzrov Rulay.
[It comes out like a hiss more than a whisper, his lungs already changed, no longer suited for human speech. He's never forced an armatus before, but he knows it's possible; Dezel did it before, with Rose. Inwardly, he insists that this is surely to save the others, give them a chance to escape. To avoid a transformation that would surely doom Zaveid as well.
But he knows, he knows that's not why. He knows the reason he forces his body to join with Sorey's, forming a hideous bastardization of the armatus that once brought them both so much joy, so much completion. And a part of that pleasure exists even now, as he becomes one with the corrupted black hole that Sorey has become. It feels good. It feels amazing, as he holds on to who he is just long enough to find his way home one last time. As the malevolence whispers to him, and a twisted sense of satisfaction, he whispers back in kind.
mine
mine
you don't need them.
you don't need anyone.
I'm right here.]
no subject
come here, I promise, I'll keep you safe
-but then there's Mikleo, claws digging into his arms and teeth bared, hissing his name until he falls into Sorey. Mikleo had already begun transforming; the physical aspects of his body try to merge with Sorey's in a way that tears at them both and Sorey struggles against it in irritation, though he does give up on the idea of calling Zaveid back.
He'll find them eventually.
Mikleo's needs are more pressing as he claws his way stubbornly into Sorey's soul, digs in and refuses to yield any space and echoes his own chant of mine, mine, mine until Sorey agrees, pulses back, yours, yours. It's not until Mikleo acknowledges him that he finally loosens his hold and Sorey can wrench him free. The way the claws had tried to peel out of his own fingers had...hurt, and he stares down at his mangled hand until the malevolence curls around him and slowly begins mending his flesh back to where it should be.
Mikleo swells in size, rips his clothes; his circlet slips as his head flattens and Sorey scoops it up, slides it onto a growing horn and strokes a hand down Mikleo's neck. Mikleo's terrifying like this, but he's also powerful and there's a distinct beauty in that. It's the appearance of a friend who will never die, who cannot be killed. As his wings spread overhead and catch the rain above Sorey he tilts his head back, petting Mikleo's scales idly.
There was something he wanted to do...something he needed to do, he thinks, but he can't remember. Not when he has so much else that needs his attention. Dezel might've broken the pact but Zaveid is still there, and Mikleo will need most of Sorey's attention until he's used to his body. He'll need to be protected; he'll need direction.]
Don't worry, [Sorey whispers with the wind around them, leaning his side against Mikleo's flank and watching the direction in which his other seraphim fled,] you're my one and only. I love you.