10-24-2018, 09:25 PM
**she does nothing useful. basically just shows up. :| carry on.
Image © Wizards of the Coast LLC
@[Rocinante]
-Raeg'n-
They were blessed, at least, that Death hadn't found them yet. The demon. Deimos. He'd feigned sudden disinterest the last she saw him, when Pangea fell and she washed ashore without her young charge and his newest guardian. But she wasn't fooled. Only milliseconds before, he had been consumed in his desire for her, his greed to take her away and keep her for himself. Perhaps his plan had been unraveling too loudly for her to see it. An abrupt turnabout in attempt to hide it from her.
But she was not fooled.
He would return. For her, for little Ruan.
He'd had a plan for the boy for months, years now, and he was pure evil. Evil didn't just decide to be merciful.
She was not fooled.
And he was the greatest fool if he thought it.
It was days later she would find Raksha - No. Rocinante, the demon had told her. The powerful guardian, the knight with untold stories of countless victories and tragedies in his deep eyes. Secrets she may never know; secrets he would never speak in his permanent silence.
But she had not found the boy.
Kilter. Her Ruan.
Rocinante had understood and helped her search for him with equal if not more haste and concern as she had. It made her conclude that he had done this at least once before. He must have been Guardian to someone once. Or more than once. His skill was obvious, and in so many ways he was her better, far more experienced. But his respect for her seemed to hold her in their lead, allowing her to make most of the choices. And if ever she was uncertain, she need only to glance at his face, his body language, and know when he agreed with her decision and stood behind it, or when he doubted and they would reorganize their plan.
Their goal above all else was to protect their boy.
She was his Angel, after all. She could not join her angel mother in heaven until her duty on Beqanna's earth was complete. Beginning with him.
They hadn't found him though. And when a call rang out in her mind - their minds - she didn't even hesitate. The world was at grave risk. Her boy was at grave risk, wherever he might be. She would find him.
Her golden eyes widened, midnight blue lips parting. She was all too familiar with this mind-speak. Deimos had done it freely, even pushing vulgar images into her mind to manipulate her, make her buckle mentally since she cannot buckle physically. This was not Deimos, though, and so she did not hesitate to see for herself.
She bolted, her deep indigo body filled out and toned in muscle, built and trained as a warrior. Her training with Magnus had been cut short and she had vanished from his land, but Rocinante was sparring with her, keeping her sharp. And as soon as they found their boy, they would train him too. He needed to be able to protect himself. Their days were consumed in searching for him.
The warrior angel was introduced to battle by the wildfire of her hair, orange and furious against her dark skin, flinging through the air behind her as she ran at full speed. One.. Her face was set in resolute determination, her feet pounding mercilessly across the terrain. She would return home to Pangea where they'd been held captive. She would rid this world of its evils. She would earn her wings and see her mother again.
Somewhere in her wake - or perhaps above her - was the Guardian. A violent threat of his own.
This scourge-ridden beast wouldn't know what hit him.
Her confidence was already impossibly high, being invincible would do that, but knowing he had her back and that he was with her, always, bolstered her strength. Two.. She kept count, always kept count. Each flash through her blood, her magic resetting her to perfect health. Her slender legs gained more speed, covered more distance, and with starset eyes she took in the unfolding sight before them with a firmness in her brow.
There were fighters, magicians. Attackers, defenders. Healers.
Her gait held strong, barreling forward with purpose. She had plenty of time to survey the mess, to deduce that it was indeed a mess, and a quiet little pang in the back of her mind warned her that perhaps this was a ploy. A falsehood. She had experienced many with the Demon.
So her steady gaze sought out the knight, searching his face and those brown eyes for the direction she needed. She was still so young, still lacked the experience he must have gained long before she was born. In one of those less frequent moments, she depended on him to take the lead. Because they all knew, when it came to that boy, she was in charge.
But she was not fooled.
He would return. For her, for little Ruan.
He'd had a plan for the boy for months, years now, and he was pure evil. Evil didn't just decide to be merciful.
She was not fooled.
And he was the greatest fool if he thought it.
It was days later she would find Raksha - No. Rocinante, the demon had told her. The powerful guardian, the knight with untold stories of countless victories and tragedies in his deep eyes. Secrets she may never know; secrets he would never speak in his permanent silence.
But she had not found the boy.
Kilter. Her Ruan.
Rocinante had understood and helped her search for him with equal if not more haste and concern as she had. It made her conclude that he had done this at least once before. He must have been Guardian to someone once. Or more than once. His skill was obvious, and in so many ways he was her better, far more experienced. But his respect for her seemed to hold her in their lead, allowing her to make most of the choices. And if ever she was uncertain, she need only to glance at his face, his body language, and know when he agreed with her decision and stood behind it, or when he doubted and they would reorganize their plan.
Their goal above all else was to protect their boy.
She was his Angel, after all. She could not join her angel mother in heaven until her duty on Beqanna's earth was complete. Beginning with him.
They hadn't found him though. And when a call rang out in her mind - their minds - she didn't even hesitate. The world was at grave risk. Her boy was at grave risk, wherever he might be. She would find him.
Her golden eyes widened, midnight blue lips parting. She was all too familiar with this mind-speak. Deimos had done it freely, even pushing vulgar images into her mind to manipulate her, make her buckle mentally since she cannot buckle physically. This was not Deimos, though, and so she did not hesitate to see for herself.
She bolted, her deep indigo body filled out and toned in muscle, built and trained as a warrior. Her training with Magnus had been cut short and she had vanished from his land, but Rocinante was sparring with her, keeping her sharp. And as soon as they found their boy, they would train him too. He needed to be able to protect himself. Their days were consumed in searching for him.
The warrior angel was introduced to battle by the wildfire of her hair, orange and furious against her dark skin, flinging through the air behind her as she ran at full speed. One.. Her face was set in resolute determination, her feet pounding mercilessly across the terrain. She would return home to Pangea where they'd been held captive. She would rid this world of its evils. She would earn her wings and see her mother again.
Somewhere in her wake - or perhaps above her - was the Guardian. A violent threat of his own.
This scourge-ridden beast wouldn't know what hit him.
Her confidence was already impossibly high, being invincible would do that, but knowing he had her back and that he was with her, always, bolstered her strength. Two.. She kept count, always kept count. Each flash through her blood, her magic resetting her to perfect health. Her slender legs gained more speed, covered more distance, and with starset eyes she took in the unfolding sight before them with a firmness in her brow.
There were fighters, magicians. Attackers, defenders. Healers.
Her gait held strong, barreling forward with purpose. She had plenty of time to survey the mess, to deduce that it was indeed a mess, and a quiet little pang in the back of her mind warned her that perhaps this was a ploy. A falsehood. She had experienced many with the Demon.
So her steady gaze sought out the knight, searching his face and those brown eyes for the direction she needed. She was still so young, still lacked the experience he must have gained long before she was born. In one of those less frequent moments, she depended on him to take the lead. Because they all knew, when it came to that boy, she was in charge.
@[Rocinante]