jamie
01-10-2021, 05:29 PM
Jamie
Oh, how it pains him to see his friend in this state!
Purged of the wicked thing that had pledged to do to Jamie what Jamie had been unable to do. The static darkness that had vowed never to let him rest, keening at the promise that Jamie had made.
It is not guilt he feels now, his lack of conscience protects him from any semblance of remorse, but there is something that stirs in the cavern of his chest all the same. He is not innocent in this, he knows, but he had only ever wanted to help.
Balto lifts his weary head from where he’d leaned it against the bark of a tree and Jamie hears them. He hears them. He does not even have to try, they stream steady into his psyche, these things born from terrible darkness.
He aches for the blue stallion.
Balto.
Come to finish the job?
The shadow thing’s heart spasms and he lets loose a ragged breath.
“Balto,” he coos and when he touches Balto now, he can turn his edges solid. The same as they’d been on the battlefield. He does not dissolve around the hard plain of Balto’s shoulder. He sighs into Balto’s skin and mournfully shakes his head, just barely. “I only ever wanted to help you,” he mutters, “I never wanted to hurt you.”
He lifts his head to catch the cave dweller’s eye as the fog begins to thicken and swim into the darkness around them. This strange, strange darkness. The darkness Beyza brought.
“I can help you now,” he whispers, “because I never belonged to you, I belonged to Death.”
He had belonged to the dark things that teem in the shadows now.
“Let me help you.”
Purged of the wicked thing that had pledged to do to Jamie what Jamie had been unable to do. The static darkness that had vowed never to let him rest, keening at the promise that Jamie had made.
It is not guilt he feels now, his lack of conscience protects him from any semblance of remorse, but there is something that stirs in the cavern of his chest all the same. He is not innocent in this, he knows, but he had only ever wanted to help.
Balto lifts his weary head from where he’d leaned it against the bark of a tree and Jamie hears them. He hears them. He does not even have to try, they stream steady into his psyche, these things born from terrible darkness.
He aches for the blue stallion.
Balto.
Come to finish the job?
The shadow thing’s heart spasms and he lets loose a ragged breath.
“Balto,” he coos and when he touches Balto now, he can turn his edges solid. The same as they’d been on the battlefield. He does not dissolve around the hard plain of Balto’s shoulder. He sighs into Balto’s skin and mournfully shakes his head, just barely. “I only ever wanted to help you,” he mutters, “I never wanted to hurt you.”
He lifts his head to catch the cave dweller’s eye as the fog begins to thicken and swim into the darkness around them. This strange, strange darkness. The darkness Beyza brought.
“I can help you now,” he whispers, “because I never belonged to you, I belonged to Death.”
He had belonged to the dark things that teem in the shadows now.
“Let me help you.”
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[Balto]