'ɓเɠ ɠαყ' รσ૨εყ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
monolike) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-09-07 10:59 am
monolike) wrote in driftfleet2016-09-07 10:59 am
/muffled dragonforce in the distance
Who: Sorey (moonlike), Mikleo (nerdeology) & YOU!
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Solrius’s surface, scattered
When: 9/6 thru 9/10
[Some people are saying that Solrius is cursed. There’s a powerful storm moving around, with wind that screams and tears roofs from houses, rain that floods roads within minutes and lightning that ignites voracious fires which devour acres of forest. Some people can hear the beating of wings and roaring. Some people even swear they saw a damn dragon breathing fire and ice.
Fewer in number are reports of a boy with the dragon, but when questioned, nobody could say what his face looked like.]
(( Please see the OOC post for details! ))
moonlike), Mikleo (nerdeology) & YOU!Broadcast: n/a
Action: Solrius’s surface, scattered
When: 9/6 thru 9/10
[Some people are saying that Solrius is cursed. There’s a powerful storm moving around, with wind that screams and tears roofs from houses, rain that floods roads within minutes and lightning that ignites voracious fires which devour acres of forest. Some people can hear the beating of wings and roaring. Some people even swear they saw a damn dragon breathing fire and ice.
Fewer in number are reports of a boy with the dragon, but when questioned, nobody could say what his face looked like.]
(( Please see the OOC post for details! ))
no subject
-- it's nothing compared to the claws tearing at his face and tugging on his hair. If he wasn't already blind, he might be concerned about that. As it is, he's more concerned about his throat being torn open or the dragon eating him. Both are fairly terrible ways to die. He grits his teeth against the pain, raises his arms to shield himself, not that it can do much. He's only got one good arm.
But that might be enough. He summons his pendulums one more time, nudging the wind to wrap them around Sorey's arms, and then he yanks them aside.]
no subject
Don't! Don't kill him!
[Mikleo roars his displeasure, tail thumping and sweeping; he catches Dezel with his spines and flings him, wresting against Sorey's grip in argument as they struggle against each other. Mikleo could easily throw Sorey off and Sorey could easily exert complete control, but neither of them do because there is still a bond there.
Not enough to completely dissuade Mikleo from attacking, though; Sorey has to struggle with the wires around his arms, tugging at them and Mikleo snarls, snarls at the treatment of what's his and sucks in a breath before breathing flames so hot they freeze at Dezel's retreating back. Outrun that, you spare.]
no subject
He's in so much pain that moving an inch makes him want to scream, but he gets up and tries to stagger in the direction of safety. He has to get out, has to--
-- ah. Dragon fire. He raises his arm weakly to shield himself, but it doesn't do much. Flames scorch and freeze him simultaneously, coiling around him until he jerks away with the help of the wind. It takes so much effort to keep standing. Maybe he'll just sit here on his knees for a while.]
Rrgh... damn...
[If he actually had anything in his stomach, he'd probably be throwing it up right now.
Deep breaths. If he rations his strength, he knows he can muster the wind needed to get out of here. He just has to focus-- has to concentrate. Has to whisper to the air around them that Dezel will save it, he will purify the wind, and he will keep it away from the monster tossing it around like a toy.]
no subject
One moment he’s across the clearing, and the next he’s there, crouched before Dezel, cloak fluttering in the wake of his Windstep. It’s nothing to wrench the wind from Dezel in his weakened state and Sorey does it without pause, without consideration to what it means to assume a seraph’s element, to pull it away from them as one would strip the hide off a fresh kill.
Sorey clicks his tongue pityingly. There’s the harsh sound of wings in the distance; Mikleo’s had enough of this shit for sure, and he’s taking to the skies to find a way to vent his frustrations before returning.]
Seems like things never go your way, [Sorey murmurs with genuine sympathy. He brushes the backs of his fingers against Dezel’s cheek.] If I try to make you a hellion when you’re this injured, you’ll die. So…looks like I don’t get what I want either.
[But he can wait. For his seraphim, for Dezel? He can hold out a little while longer.
Sorey searches Dezel’s clothes for his comm, fiddling with it to turn it on before pressing it helpfully into Dezel’s hands, curling them around it.] Here you go. Call for help. And then, when you’re ready, come back down. We can pick this back up later.
[Another gust of stolen wind and Sorey is gone.]
no subject
The wind is stolen from him like his own breath, leaving him sightless in more ways than one and unable to do much more than choke out the Shepherd's name. He can't feel anything, can't sense anything. There's no sense of attachment to the world around him and it makes him claw helplessly at the air. The malevolence waits in the wings ready to swoop in and replace the void, but Dezel refuses. He can do this on his own-- he just needs to read the wind. Where is the wind? Where did it go? He thrashes blindly, trying to grab onto anything, trying to sort himself out.
Sorey's fingers on his cheek are all that he's aware of. He can hear the words, true, but he doesn't quite process them. He's too busy being smothered beneath the weight of that malevolence. To deprive a seraph of their element is to give them a slow, tortuous death-- and Dezel, who has already tasted death once, has never prepared for this. He's afraid when most of the time he doesn't fear death. It rises in him on instinct. Is he breathing? Does he need to breathe? He needs air, he needs-- he needs--
There are clawed hands all over him despite his inelegant flailing and he can't seem to get them off. His left arm is pretty much useless at this point, and his right only seems to find shreds of cloak or dead leaves. Then Sorey shoves his comm into his hand, helpful as ever, and tells him:
Call for help.
How is he supposed to call for help? He can't find his own voice. He can't feel or see anything. He's trapped and Lafarga is dead and Rose is crying and he's trapped he's trapped he's trapped--
-- he can breathe. The power of the malevolent domain lessens and the world comes alive beneath Dezel's fingertips, whispering to him on a nervous breeze. He inhales shakily, like a sob.
Then he screams.
The communicator is still on, but he's not sure if anyone heard him and he doesn't really care. He's in too much pain to register anything else. Sorey has left him, everyone's left him, he's broken and he's beaten and he's blind. He's never felt so blind. He's going to die here.]
R-Rose... Rose...