08-23-2017, 11:39 AM
The wall tumbles out of the ground like a wild, haphazard thing, quickly plucked from the mind of a madman and rushing like tumbling vines from the roots of the trees. The land, the forest and trees, was violently angry at the intrusion, and they fought against him with every breadth of their being. With a grunt and a push, this wall, made of thorn and bramble, would open magically to those in the Ghost King’s favor, and would attempt to keep all others out. It was weakened by the sheer force that the land pushed against the magician… an awakening in the likes that had never before been in the lands of Beqanna… But who is he to deny her?
It is not long before the wraith comes to inspect his handiwork… and the other…. A small green girl with disdain in her eyes. His magic is too spent to pluck her name from her mind. Instead, a lather builds on his skin as his wings disappear in a puff of smoke and his body reverts to the shape of his birth. The conversation ignored as he bears his teeth in frustration. His abilities have never hampered him this much before. Had the lands created new rules for themselves since the Reckoning? It was almost as if… it had become stronger. Less susceptible to the will of the magicians. Taiga was not pleased, and it showed this by reversing the Son of Mars’ hold on the landscape. All would be as it was…. Even if it had to bear Gryffen and company as its’ overseer.
A low guttural tone spits in Deimos’ direction, the words of the girl forgotten as he spends all his energy on building and maintaining this thing that Gryffen’s mind has created. How long can you hold it? It is with disgust, and even mild embarrassment—something Deimos has never felt before—that he flares his nostrils in anger, pushing against it, giving it all of him. His power on Ouija is expounded for now, set free from the bond of his collar…. But he has no doubt that the boy will find his own games to play…. Running rampant among the trees, free to cause chaos in his wake. Deimos feels his fingers on this world slipping away, and his body melds into the wall slowly, the vines taking him in, as if plugging in him in to the infrastructure. It would hold… but for how long?
It will hold as long as it has to. Do your business with them and then set me free.
DEIMOS
cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
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