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fooolery.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-08-31 10:25 pm
fooolery.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-08-31 10:25 pm
(no subject)
WHEN; August 31st, late at night.
RATING; Probably...PG for gore? :x
CHARACTERS;LULZ ALL CLAMP CHARACTERS Ashura {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tyranically}, Fai {fooolery}, Kurogane {a_crimson_ninja}, Sakura {un_recall}, Syaoran {feuerwolf}.
LOG;
A whirlwind tore about what was left of the magician’s scorched and heavy clothes, suited for the unbearable cold weather of another world far, far away. Like a shooting star, he rocketed throughout the streets of the City without a backward glance, weaving in and out of those in the way easily to act as a mere gust of a breeze, everything that was left of him intent upon only one end. He’d waited as long as he dared to make sure Kurogane had healed, but that was all his patience could endure for now, and he refused to guide him to the battlefield. If he insisted, that was something he couldn’t help, though it was something he felt a pang in his heart for. Of course he would come, why wouldn’t he?
It couldn’t go on any longer, not after his king had mortally wounded and threatened everything he had ever held so dear, the only people that had ever stayed with him despite all the lies. They were his family, and he would protect them, he would. Even if he hadn’t healed properly just yet, since things like that took a little more time for a vampire than simply a few spare minutes. This, however, was not about his pain.
"...I’m weak no longer." As the apartment grew ever closer to the mage’s half-lidded gaze, swirls of wind tossing his wispy hair about wildly, the ever constant ring of his king’s magic began to cloud his mind, and he fought against the tug, pull, poison. One hand flung out before him, the nearest window shattered into pieces and showered upon the floor within the building, to which Fai landed into a crouch gracefully, poised, silent as a cat. Blood caked across the magician’s face like war paint, mixed with an array of tears that streaked through the mess as if to track every lie, every failing he had ever committed to those he loved and now paid dearly for.
There was no need to speak, not now. So he merely waited, in that very same position, forgetting to breathe as his heart thudded violently, sickeningly in his chest, mocking him, neck nearly turned black from the earlier abuse.
RATING; Probably...PG for gore? :x
CHARACTERS;
tyranically}, Fai {fooolery}, Kurogane {a_crimson_ninja}, Sakura {un_recall}, Syaoran {feuerwolf}.LOG;
A whirlwind tore about what was left of the magician’s scorched and heavy clothes, suited for the unbearable cold weather of another world far, far away. Like a shooting star, he rocketed throughout the streets of the City without a backward glance, weaving in and out of those in the way easily to act as a mere gust of a breeze, everything that was left of him intent upon only one end. He’d waited as long as he dared to make sure Kurogane had healed, but that was all his patience could endure for now, and he refused to guide him to the battlefield. If he insisted, that was something he couldn’t help, though it was something he felt a pang in his heart for. Of course he would come, why wouldn’t he?
It couldn’t go on any longer, not after his king had mortally wounded and threatened everything he had ever held so dear, the only people that had ever stayed with him despite all the lies. They were his family, and he would protect them, he would. Even if he hadn’t healed properly just yet, since things like that took a little more time for a vampire than simply a few spare minutes. This, however, was not about his pain.
"...I’m weak no longer." As the apartment grew ever closer to the mage’s half-lidded gaze, swirls of wind tossing his wispy hair about wildly, the ever constant ring of his king’s magic began to cloud his mind, and he fought against the tug, pull, poison. One hand flung out before him, the nearest window shattered into pieces and showered upon the floor within the building, to which Fai landed into a crouch gracefully, poised, silent as a cat. Blood caked across the magician’s face like war paint, mixed with an array of tears that streaked through the mess as if to track every lie, every failing he had ever committed to those he loved and now paid dearly for.
There was no need to speak, not now. So he merely waited, in that very same position, forgetting to breathe as his heart thudded violently, sickeningly in his chest, mocking him, neck nearly turned black from the earlier abuse.