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+----- Thread: Looking for heaven found the devil in me [Any] (/showthread.php?tid=498)
Looking for heaven found the devil in me [Any] - Rodrik - 04-04-2015
| Upon his arrival in the kingdom, Rodrik disappeared into the darkness and has never been heard from since. He did not make it appoint to become something of this kingdom that was not his. There was no loyalty to be felt for the Valley as he has only ever felt such feelings for the Chamber and always will. Rodrik has never been one to simply abandon a kingdom he has long given his fidelity to. There is something he must learn here (to atone for whatever sins he has committed, as if he needs to do such a thing as Eight thinks he must do), perhaps a chance to raise the Chamber in the food chain and be above all others. It has always been something he willingly did just as he did anything for his family. He may have had a crown to his name, but Rodrik knows without a doubt his time as a king would come to an end. The blood stallion accepted it willingly and only saw it as a chance to become something more. The crown of the Chamber had been a stepping stone, merely a beginning to show his true potential. However, he wonders what is to come next. Rodrik is ever patient though, he knows within time the answer to his question will come. Even days after he has come to the Valley, he has yet to be seen. No one has come looking for him expect for his own brother – at least there is someone missing him. It is nice to not be forgotten, he once thought with a content heart. He has always loved his younger brother and even more when he joined him in the Chamber. Now his daughter rules in his place but Rodrik does not exactly know what Straia is up to. Not that he cares anyway; she at least had not grown up stupid. She would be a good queen, yet he feels a spiteful hatred towards her when he was dragged off to the Valley. He does not forget easily and forgive lightly. As the weeks go by, it seems as if the once Blood King has disappeared into the very depths of hell itself. Rodrik has yet to be seen for weeks, but it should not go unnoticed that he has hidden. He has never been one to run away out of fear of what is to become of him. There were little things that he feared and change was certainly not one of them. He welcomed what came next and happened quite slowly as he continued to stay in the darkness of the kingdom. Rodrik could feel the familiar toxic return into his blood and the cries for help within his own mind. It drove him mad for weeks, the screams and agonizing pain he felt. He felt as if he would die himself, but he wouldn't and couldn't die. Rodrik had only to accept what was to come next, and he welcomed the familiar power that once filled his stoned heart and the poison that rushed through his bloodstream. It was rejuvenating. It crawls forward, slipping through the shadows of the night. The dark form moves with ease, muscles and bones working together, as it treads forward with the scent of death trailing behind it. The devil peers through hooded eyes, dark and hollow, but there still remains the familiar nutmeg color in the eyes. There is a hunger for blood, it is so strong, an instinct that cannot be resisted and never could be. Its eyes search across the scenery as the creatures moves into the open-wide land. A repugnant smirk grows across his tattered lips as the screams and bloodshed flash before him. He is hungry. |
| angels banished from heaven have no choice but to become devils |
RE: Looking for heaven found the devil in me [Any] - Librette - 04-04-2015
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away. But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play. They would make an interesting pair, Rodrik and Librette. Where he is devoted to the Chamber and resentful of the Valley, she has given her heart literally and figuratively to the only true home she's ever known. Where he is rediscovering his multitude of powers, she has long had command over the little thing that she has, her wings. And perhaps most interestingly, where he is the necromancer, she is the one returned from the dead. But she does not know this when she walks that night. She is simply making the rounds, doing as she always does. She knows somewhere in the back of her mind that Eight had brought the former Chamber king here, but it does not strike her as odd that she has not seen him. The Valley excels at offering little places to hide away, tiny chambers of concealment for those who don't want to be found. Turns out, evils can be a hidey bunch, and the Valley is more than happy to accommodate. She is walking the other side of the Valley from her tree when she smells it. Her nostrils flare at the scent of death, and immediately she is terrified that something has happened to the residents of the Valley. But she's smelled true, natural death before, and this isn't it – and so her fears slip into the background as she turns to face whatever it actually is. Her warrior's body naturally tenses for battle as she hears the thing approach. As adrenaline pumps through her body, she seems to kindle, to come alive in a way that she never does outside of fighting. She is beautiful now, her chestnut body a blaze against the night sky. Her brown eyes burn with intensity as every muscle in her body is taut, straining to hear, to listen, to know what approaches. Her red tail hawk wings, lifted away from her sides to make sudden flight easier if she needs an aerial advantage, shine gold-red in the moonlight. And the scar that slashes across her chest, just above her heart, is so brightly white it almost looks like it is glowing. And then, it is there. She doesn't have a damn clue that it's Rodrik, because she's never met the stallion, and even if she had, he looks nothing like his former self. To her credit, she does not startle, doesn't even more a centimeter. She's the battle-hardened warrior now, the General, the raider, the Alliance contender. And she's afraid of nothing. In the back of her mind she wonders where Eight is – there may be others in the Valley who need protection from whomever or whatever this thing is. Adrenaline still pumping, body still tense, the warrior girl speaks. "Stop where you are." she commands, her voice certain and impressive. This is the voice that means Valley business, stronger and more firm than it ever is for anything else. "Who are you?" she asks, with that same voice, her body still unflinching, unhesitating even in the face of such horror. What would he feel from her, once a corpse in a grave, and now, well, not? He couldn't harm her, although he wouldn't know that – she's under protection from her granddaughter Camrynn (although ironically, Librette does not know that). Would he smell the death? Would he smell the life? Would he obey her and stop? No matter what, she's not backing down. Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
Image copyright FFFiiiAA |