innerbeast

[innerbeast]

be honest, would you screw over everything just for the chance at a good fight

send me "be honest..." ( not accepting )

"not on purpose," though it remained a question he couldn't give a straight 'no' to. being a man that made peace with fading away at realities end, just to finish a battle he'd longed for -- he's already come close to doing that which was asked before. of giving up everything just to see things through, for his own personal enjoyment.

"... i don't want to give up what i've got, but if there was nothin' else left to lose? can't say i wouldn't humor the thought."

[innerbeast]

As if a thank you card was enough! Don't worry, he didn't make this gift because he felt he needed to give him something in return (this is something Constantine has been working on and now he has a reason to give it!)

The box is handmade in a sleek dark brown color. There's an engraving on it. 'DM', Dar'khol's initial, and next to it is a purple fishing hook. WHY purple? Dar'khol can probably gather the reasoning behind it. The box is empty though aside from the card that gives him Thanks.

it's the card he picks up first, taking the words of thanks with a smile. he hadn't expected anything in return, never does when this time of year rolls around, but he can't say no when a genuine gift is brought to him like this.

the dark box is met with curious fingers gliding over its finish, digits tracing over the engraved initials while a chuckle slips passed his lips. simplistic, perhaps, but that was just fine. perfect, even. dar can already think of quite a few little trinkets he's collected over the year that would find this box to be a wonderful home.

"man, conny... ya really didn't need to," he begins, attention shifting to the purple fishing hook left beside the box. for a moment, the miqo'te's smile falters... but it warms with a passing sigh. "but it's greatly appreciated. heh, who knows? maybe this'll be my new lucky charm next time i cast my line!" ( thank you ).

[innerbeast]

now i pray tumblr was nice and sent those all properly, if not i'm crafting tears for christmas.

[innerbeast]

[innerbeast]

may as well have run sandpaper along the skin of his ears with how dryly those words slide against his eardrums. if dar was capable of folding them back any further than they already were, he would. the damned things already flat against his head, nearly non-existent within a stylized, brown mess of hair.

the tail at risk of freezing currently hanging low, barely a sway left in it as it stuck to the back of the warrior's thigh. an attempt to keep warm, or a means of hiding the visible shame that clung to him like morning dew? why not both. despite running his mouth in an attempt to ease into things, his body language did what it did best -- gave him away completely, leaving no stone left unturned. leaving him to feel like a freshly scolded kit awaiting punishment, drenched in guilt without a word spoken to save his fur.

yuri made sure to drive that feeling in further with how he spoke to him, too.

the mention of a leash, followed by the mention of rushing ahead had the warrior's head dipping as he slowed behind him. lips twitched in a strained grimace, irritation sparking beneath his silent obedience, a retort sitting at the edge of his tongue that never emerges; swallowed down by a bitter gulp. ' i'm not a child ', he wishes to correct, yet he knows his actions would have yuri claiming otherwise. can practically hear the reprimand from the swordsman already.

"aye, aye..." is uttered in their place.

"go ahead, then. won't have t' worry 'bout a thing." ( i'll be as a dog at your heel ). even if a sliver of spite wanted him to stride forward, to brush passed the other man and find an exit on his own. free himself for the cold dryness and the glimpses of a hardened stare in the passing reflections he had to force his eyes away from. no need to go proving him right. dar knew better, anyway. or, well... he should.

darting eyes and a lowered head found the floor a favored view before long, simply watching the toes of his shoes peek into view with every step, the heels of yuri's own playing the role of guide.

as much as he wanted to look, to keep up his staring as if it would somehow reveal an answer to him... he couldn't. didn't feel as though he was allowed to.

dar almost didn't know what would have been a worse outcome. remaining within bibidi's stable, pressed against those dalamud red feathers as he tried to forget about the cold... or being here; silently following his partner ( for as long as he'd remain as such.. ) to their unspoken destination and fighting the growing pit in his stomach.

you knew this would happen. fingers slowly curl, fists forming at his sides. you knew and kept going, lost in it like you always are. what's wrong with you? you promised... you promised...!

this would be so much easier if dar would just quit staring. it's cutting into him, clawing, stabbing, digging into his back; guilt infects the open wounds those dual-toned eyes leave behind, drawing him to meet them. but he can't. won't. not yet...

he knows he'd only relive the panic when dar came home that day, bloodied and scarred, only to learn that wasn't even half the pain his partner endured without him. of course he'd been angry (furious) at the man for going against everything they'd promised. for repeating yuri's mistake, especially, by leaving him in the dark.

how long had their illusion of understanding lasted? a day, tops? did dar even try...?

he had every right to blow up, every right to call him out in all its harshness-- it was a poorly-worded plea for the warrior to understand how important his life is, at its core... but, where the swordsman is used to the aftermath of messy arguments, dar'khol's heart is unrelenting. knowing how sorry he is -- seeing it in his tired face, every damned day -- there hasn't been a single moment his own chest relaxed its grip. it's like the thread connecting them's been pulled taut, ready to snap.

that's why they're here. where words and passing glances have failed, only one option remains. although it's drastic (nonsensical, to most), they need this. yuri needs this.

he almost jolts when the miqo'te shatters through his thoughts; it's too loud, too sudden, within the echoing chamber. in the clarity, he tastes copper on his tongue.

but his focus remains dead ahead. "not the main point, no. just an added bonus," he shoots back, too dry to be playful, "you and your tail are gonna have to suck it up a little longer. we're almost there."

when they reach the end of the corridor, he slows, raising an arm.

...right. their last obstacle's a goddamn mirror maze. he forgot about that bit.

already fumbled, too, looking into that first reflection. his hardened gaze darts to the side before it can settle on their strained expressions. "knew i should've invested in a backpack leash... well, we'll be fine as long as you don't go rushing on ahead. i don't wanna pay damages if you ram into anything, so stick close."

[innerbeast]

FROM: dar'khol TO: lizzie

[txt]: is it sppose 2?? [txt]: im still kicking fine, can't b that bad!!

FROM: Lilli Belrose TO: All Contacts

[txt]: Hey, if someone accidentally ate a fake plastic candy cane, would it kill them? Like, the decorative ones.

[innerbeast]

awkward doesn't begin to describe the feeling settled in his stomach, against his shoulders, pressing upon his chest. he still felt as though he should be left behind a closed door, forehead pressed against it and left alone to listen to the silence sprawled out within their house. a means of remaining with his own thoughts, and the weight of each word yuri had flung at him before storming out.

not like dar could really blame him. he had expected a poor reaction once filling his partner in on everything -- as if the fresh scars he wore would allow him to hold his tongue for long, anyway. outing him before dar'khol had the chance to do so himself, prompting a question that lead to his needing to retell. he deserved every heated word, every pointed out misstep. after he'd gone and promised to do better, to actually show some care for himself. ( yeah, did great on that ).

now, he's left with the sound of chimes gently caressing folded ears, and the sight of his partner's back as he leads the way forward.

occasionally, dar allows himself to glance around, taking in sights of reflective walls and glimpses of sculpted ice. it was beautiful, truly. a real spectacle of a palace he was finding difficult to appreciate every time his gaze fluttered back to yuri; flashing back to a similar sight that left him behind.

once with an over enthusiastic dinner, and once again with his own reckless behavior. watching him walk away -- despite currently following -- is going to end up a new, dreaded scenario at this rate.

"don't suppose ya could'a picked some place... warmer? pretty as this is," an attempt to break the silence, offering whatever fell from his tongue first. he's had enough of it, really. the quiet nights spent on a sofa had him restless, even fetching a blanket to share bibidi's stable just for something! a few soft 'kweh's certainly helped.

"... unless freezin' my tail off was the point." ( stop talking, dar'khol ).

@darkenforcer ( crystal funhouse )

[innerbeast]

haven't done this since april, i think? it's been a minute --

NAME / ALIAS: aiza! AGE: thirty PRONOUNS: he / him! ( sometimes they, i guess ) TIMEZONE: est

CHARACTERS IN GROUP: dar'khol (ffxiv) , raven (tov) , alarian (oc)

LIL' ABOUT YOURSELF:

pretty sure the last time i did this i said i was terrible at it, that still holds true. i'm a goofball that just tries to have a good time in my day to day, be a little silly and focus hard on the characters i create. like dar'khol, for instance, he's everywhere. literally. here, discord, socials, my desktop, my phone bg, recreated in other games -- some people are sick of this guy! when work isn't devouring my motivation, i like doodling and playing games when i'm not writing ( or staring blankly at the screen ), my ass is mostly in ff/xiv but i swear i have a list of more i've played, and still need to play -- don't look at my backlog. i greatly enjoy making silly little edits or things for friends, too, prompted or unprompted. honestly i just like making people laugh.

SOCIALS: formerly miqoway on twitter, but i'm over on bsky as primalrend ! also farryheid on tumblr.

[innerbeast]

how it feels going home after being in the middle of a divorce and having almost died (again)

[innerbeast]

boom!

islands combust and crumble away, dar's attention swiveling to the lands now visible. watching as their existence comes to an end, replaced with flames and scattered remnants of what once was. flora and fauna caught within the carnage, lives stolen in place of the one he refused to part with.

the world suffered where he refused to fall.

somehow, he felt it familiar. the way in which his chest tightened, how his gut churned and folded in on itself. realization sitting against him like a heavy weight, crushing him down; lower and lower. dar'khol knew it to be guilt, but the level in which is sat should be something foreign to him -- at least within its current magnitude. but, no, he knew this weight... he knew it well. part of a life memory did not recall.

your fault, a voice whispered, it's your fault.

truth was held in what it said, but only in pieces. it was not he who set wrath against the world below, not he who tore apart the body of the innocent and left them to rot. tangled in a mess of turmoil and hatred. he was not at fault for keeping his partner trapped under a veil of lies! only for making them known. that, he would take fault for, he already has.

once more, the demon turns to face the golden bloodshed. squinting less with the, now, dimming glow. a sight that didn't alleviate the weight between his ribs any less, only strengthened it if nothing else. not for aurelius' condition or what the moment spelled for him, but of the lasting impression it would all leave on the seraph that held him still. the being responsible for the rush of golden blood, for the influx of blades and feathers that pierced the commanders form.

he could only imagine the toll it must have on him. never would dar have been able to bring himself to do the same, needed or otherwise.

no one should have to go through something like this.

"klaus..."

a low, sympathetic calling of the seraph's name is all dar'khol can bring himself to offer. eyes left watching on as flaming wings remained crackling behind him, as the distant sound of falling rock and debris rang out.

the demon's expression falters; scrunching with guilt-ridden upset before he's tearing his gaze away. part of him still yearns to watch the angel's downfall, to see life fade from his holy visage and fade away, regardless of how the stars would merely bring him back. but klaus couldn't do it, he shouldn't have to.

lids squeeze shut, blocking away the demons own eyes of gold as a shaken breath steels him.

"it has to end," he mutters, a final side glance given. "whatever you choose to do, klaus, needs to be what ends this."

dar'khol's stare lingers, still, mouth moving wordlessly as if to add something more, but he doesn't feel like he should speak what sits on his tongues edge. two simple words that feel distasteful after all his involvement.

so, he leaves it unspoken.

' i'm sorry '

he relieves himself of the battlefield, the angels' left to decide amongst themselves. fiyero and seofon still remained upon one of the isles, he'd occupy himself with them; see how they fared within these chaos-stricken waves.

his part in this was over.

( @hollowfaith , @anghexescu exit stage left -- the spotlight's all yours! )

It was bad enough that a fallen angel was with them. It would be near blinding and the effect of the holiness would have gotten to the demon with too much exposure. Klaus knew that he had to act fast.

He hears Dar'khol.

If this kept going on, it wouldn't just be him.

It would be everyone else as well, and he couldn't have that. He promised that no one else would be getting hurt by Aurelius.

...

Aurelius is suspended in the air, impaled by his own wings and the chains wrapped around his limbs. However, it isn't enough to stop him. Aurelius didn't care who got caught in the attack, and this was enough to enrage The Seraph all the more.

Barriers after barriers shields any rocks from hitting near or at beings below.

The choir above ensues, continuing their hymn and when the sword rises higher, by Ithuriel's side, the choir gets louder. The swords that the angels hold up risen out of their hands to circle around Uriel and Ithuriel all the same.

Klaus' arms outstretch, the mouths across Klaus' body open to singing along to the hymn, a soft tenor. No matter how soft and gentle their voices were, there were other voices that overlapped with it. Voices unrecognizable and distorted, these mouths were still the loudest among the angels above. Despite this, they sounded warm and physically felt to be something of a warm, fuzzy blanket type of feel that cascaded over them. It would be the only time Aurelius heard the seraph speak.

{AURELIUS VANE-TEMPEST. FOR ALL THE SINS YOU HAVE COMMITTED WILL BE JUDGED.}

When the name is spoken, Uriel's tip comes into contact with the spear, as do the other swords around them. The angels continue to sing as well as Klaus' voice joining them. It was time to give their judgment. The molten rocks disintegrate whenever they come into contact with barriers scattered about. They'd become specks of dust falling from the skies where they'd blow away.

Feathers fall from Klaus' wings and become sharp like swords. He drives them through Aurelius, plunging them deep within.

Holy, holy, holy.

The angels will sing and praise their Lord. With each 'holy', feathers upon feathers pierce through every part of Aurelius. Once more where he had once been pierced before, he'd be stabbed again. Though only this time, the steel-like feathers will stab through eyes in which their Lord had gifted in order to see, the throat in which Their Lord gave them to sing his praise with a voice they've given them. HANDS in which the Lord have given to care and love those around them, feet and legs to allow for walking, and running. All four wings that were blessed and gifted by the Lord as one soared through the skies were also pierced through before Klaus worked to rip them right off

Aurelius Vane Tempest, the Cherub, was unfit to be an angel of the Lord.

The angels above grabs their own swords once more and they all point at Aurelius.

Holy, holy, holy.

The swords are released, but instead of falling down, they all zip toward Aurelius, stabbing him over and over again in all the places in which Klaus had pierced previously.

...

I can't kill him...I can't....I can't do it. Please....please Aurelius...please stop..

...

And in that last moment when the plunging of swords work through their last stabbing, they cease and remain within Aurelius' flesh.

Klaus looks up to his sword. It speaks to him, pleads almost. Ithuriel had been put to sleep from the angels hymn and there was no NEED to kill Aurelius as he'd only return.

In truth, the Seraph knew Uriel was right. Klaus couldn't even bring himself to actually go through with it. This had already been hard enough. To strip away the things that made an angel an angel...Aurelius' golden wings were no longer on his back.

He couldn't kill Aurelius. It hurt almost as much as when everything else had been revealed.

@innerbeast & @hollowfaith

[innerbeast]

Please note that this does not begin until Friday, December 20th at 12:00:01am EST. No starters, info posts, or ads can be made before that point. This is just an information post for preparation's sake!

We previously teased that we'd be doing something different for the December event, and this is it! Because everyone is busy with the holidays and there are likely event reruns some members would like to do but can't since they never win the polls, we decided to try a period where you can choose whichever event you'd like to write during the three week event period. We're posting this in advance so you can think about what you'd like to pick!

There are, of course, some rules and caveats for this:

Most events are available to be chosen but not all of them. This is because some of the staff who wrote those events are no longer with us. You can find a list of eligible events at the bottom of this post!

You must choose a single event to receive event participation with on any single blog. You're more than welcome to thread with others doing other events so that they have people to write with, but you can only claim participation for a single event during this period!

There is a flat reward of a free unlock for everyone who participates regardless of whether or not the event you pick gives an unlock. This is so everyone receives an unlock regardless of the event chosen. Picking one that gives an unlock will not give you two, you will still only receive the single unlock. You must write at least 300 IC words for your chosen event to be eligible to claim the unlock.

The usual rules on the EVENT RERUN GUIDE still apply! Your character will see the city in the state that it was in during that event, and will believe everyone is going through the same thing.

A more complete post will be made on Friday with any questions that have been asked in the interim. So if you have any questions about how things work, please send them to the masterlist (not the Discord server) before Friday!

Below you can find a list of eligible events along with links to their information posts:

COVET

SUBVERSION (PT1 + PT2)

THE FANTASIA WAR (PT1 + PT2)

DREAMSCAPE

EMPATHEOREM

CUPID SHUFFLE

SECURITY BREACH (PT1 + PT2)

SHORE

MASKERADE FESTIVAL

SHINE BRIGHT

OPTIMIZATION

CANVAS (PT1 + PT2)

LATESUMMER NIGHT'S SOIREE

MISTIFIED

CREW CALL

SUBSISTENCE (PT1 + PT2)

A CROCUS AMONG US

DOWN YOU GO

FRAGMEMORIA (PT1 + PT2)

THE CHALLENGER'S PATH

DATA CORRUPT (PT1 + PT2)

HOMECOMING (PT1 + PT2)

SPIRALE GAMES

ENDLESS AURORA

PHANTASM AMALGAM (PT1 + PT2)

COLOUR THEORY (MID-EVENT UPDATE)

ALTERNATIVE ALLEGORY

[innerbeast]

' YOU '

dar'khol's attention rises. a mistake quickly rectified by turning his head, eyes squinting as they peer out from the side. not a moment within this madness had the angel let him breath, not a moment spared to throw something new his way. to make an attempt on his life again and again and again.

even as they remain countered and pinned by klaus, himself, aurelius makes time to direct his ire towards him. were it anyone else, there might be cause to beg -- to plead for a sparing moment -- but dar'khol would continue to stand what little ground he could claim. even as he's met with a violent gust, the air seizing at the hellspawn's wings ( his entire being! ) and sending him backward.

there's a harsh crack as embers expand, bracing against the wind to steady himself through the passing gust. his new position is quick to shift, body tilting into a temporary fall ,avoiding a plummeting piece of the barriers shell, before flaming wings flap heavily to correct his balance.

the sight of clear blue peering through klaus' barrier is something welcomed, a promise of freedom from the blank, white space they'd been subjected to. a freedom quickly ripped away with aurelius' following set up; another hurried chance to pin dar down and be rid of him.

fingers clutch aggressively around ferocity's handle, knuckles painted white from the pressure. hoard of golden spikes is responded too with bared fang, throat left rumbling with a deep growl. caged and left at the ends of a funnel for that accursed spear.

just the sight of it alone set blood boiling, but it's the charge it built that had the demon's heart pounding within his chest. harsh, and quickened, beat that pressed at lungs. each breath barely held.

hellfire sparks and burns within his palms, through his teeth and beneath his soles -- a charge up of his own, forcing his already tired body to ready itself to shift once again. it was the best chance he had to combat against the attack waiting for him... or so he had believed.

klaus would once again play the role of his protector, however.

dar'khol's flames slowly die, remaining as dull, crackling layers against his hand. they couldn't hold a candle beside that holy glow; one angel was painfully bright, already, but accompanied by those holy beams he may as well sit here blinded. if not for what little blessing remains within him, he might have withered from the holy light alone.

damn it, if this keeps going like it is...

"we can't keep going with this back and forth, it's all coming apart! it won't just be me as collateral if this goes on much longer!"

( @hollowfaith , @anghexescu )

Among is fragmented and scattered memories, it was one of the ones he's forgotten. At one point he had believed his father to be alive, however through his time in this strange place, he was gaining memories back. Klaus had already mourned his father twice now. Once when he was just a boy and once as an adult. He will grieve and mourn for the third time as memories of how his father passed plays in his head.

Solara Angelus, a kind man who helped those in need. He traveled with his son and Morriss and his daughter Miyena far and wide, creating weapons for those in need to protect themselves. These weapons, though created through rather frightening means, was welded and built FOR protection. To protect those in need. Solara always had other people's best intetest first. The man who created uriel and Ithuriel and many more before and after.

Klaus remembers fondly of when he was just a boy, watching his father work. The sound of metal hitting against metal as he build little Klaus his own little weapon. It didn't have the attributes of a celestial weapon like the rest of his, but Klaus was happy nonetheless.

Will you show me how to use it?

Klaus had asked. He wanted to learn as soon as he could. Preferably the moment his father was done with making the sword. Solara laughed. Warm, boisterous, and full of love. And his father placed his hand on top Klaus' head and smiled.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOOM!!!!

Klaus had cried for his father. Screamed for him when his father disappeared in the explosion he had created. It was the awakening of Klaus' first ability. The soundless scream. It wasn't strong enough to rid the people, but it had done some damage. However, morriss and scooped Klaus who FOUGHT to stay, insisting that he was going to kill everyone there that day.

They had just barely escaped with their lives, but something in Klaus that day would change him for the rest.

And hearing Solara through Ithuriel had done something deep within klaus' core. Perhaps Aurelius could feel the deep seething rage. The pain and everything that came with mourning, grieving, hatred for what was happening and for what Aurelius was doing.

Aurelius used his parents as if they were MERE puppets.

Something has to give.

And just like that little boy trapped in an blinded enragement, his wings pierces through more of Aurelius flesh when he's brought in closer. Aurelius is relentless in aiming for Darkhol. And although Aurelius asks his question, the seraph speaks not. Instead, he answers Aurelius attack toward Dar'khol with his own attack. As their surroundings shake and tremble, crumble due to Solara's attack, the veil that shields the outside from inside begins to slip. Those outside only witnessing glimpses and shards of what is transpiring within.

Klaus feels the gravity pull them down. Aurelius free falls as he holds Klaus, but the seraph still attacks, piercing through flesh.

Uriel doesn't attack and instead, follows up where the spear is high above. The sword pulsates a radiating blue that stretches as far as the eyes can see. Bright lights scatter, mixing in with the dark clouds above. In every darkness there was light. Where there was judgement, there was understanding, compassion, and empathy. Dar'khol, the demon would not be judged nor banished. Not even smited for exisitng. He had done no wrong as a demon. Instead, with the power of purification, he would be ridded the reason FOR being hunted.

If darkhol was purified in a sense, aurelius would have no reason to continue his attack on the other. Klaus wouldn't let another fall victim to Aurelius' wrath.

Howver, the one who would be punished....

As holy angels float above the clouds, they too, raise their weapons high. Bright holy lights shones through, once more negating Aurelius and ithuriel's attack. Golden, white, and blue lights stretches. They move like chains to wrap around Aurelius' legs. It's when Klaus breaks free from Aurelius' grips with the use of his wings that the chains will then stretch and wrap around wrists and arms.

The angels above begins to sing in a hymn. The sounds of holy Orchestra plays behind them as more of those lights beams through, piercing the back of Aurelius.

The wings that threatened Dar'khol's life will turn their trajectory back to Aurelius and be the new target.

@innerbeast & @hollowfaith

[innerbeast]

be honest, have you ever kept your mouth shut when it matters?

send me "be honest..." with a question your muse has been dying to ask mine and they'll answer truthfully. ( tumblr ate my reblog pretend it's there )

"aye, i have. believe me or not, it doesn't matter regardin' you."

[innerbeast]

be honest…did you forget about Yuri while you were having fun fighting…..

send me "be honest..." with a question your muse has been dying to ask mine and they'll answer truthfully. ( tumblr ate my reblog pretend it's there )

"...no, i didn't forget about 'im."

"more like i stopped thinkin' all together. ridin' on impulse and allowin' myself to be lost in the high of the moment, it's--" addicting, "... a habit. that's all." a bad one, at that. yuri had been on his mind throughout the majority of that conflict; worrying about what he'd think, what he might say. dar'khol merely had a moment of tuning that all out. shoving aside his worries, as he's won't to do.

[innerbeast]

he's left playing in glass. prey shattering within his grasp, beneath his teeth; torn apart and scattered along the floor to be smothered under his heel. nothing like the real thing, the rhythm playing behind his ribs never finding a means to skip, or quicken. not as it had, as he wanted it to.

there was no victory for the beast to revel in, either. no break in the angels attempt at his life, no matter what level of focus was given to the seraph. to klaus.

dar'khol remained with the broken pieces of his enemy, forced to deal with their unrelenting assault even in the form of strewn shards. plenty of golden slivers met what was left of his barrier, pieces thrown against pieces. it left room to weave through the cracks, shards darting against exposed skin -- along arms and abdomen, against his collarbone and face. even his ears fell victim to a few stray pieces, nicked along their edge with the rest cutting through tufts of fur.

a snarl's emitted amongst dar's discomfort, twisting and turning to avoid what fragments he could. all while his inner timer ticked away, approaching his last seconds. he'd make use of them, yet.

with a deep inhale the demon's head is thrown back, belting out a roar to shake the air around him. a means to disrupt what fragments of hardened feathers remained, while his body erupts in hellfire. they crackle and consume, burning white hot as they build in intensity, the flames expanding from his silhouette.

as his roar grows in pitch, the flames are released in an explosive frenzy. heated burst enveloping dar, himself, and the brittle shards swarming around him. burning his problem away along with that final second in which his bestial form remained.

by the time hellfire dies away, dar'khol retakes his standard form. body, once again, conflicted with that familiar haze of exhaustion that threatened him with every transformation.

"come on, klaus..." heavy breaths carry his words, quietly urging the other. "something... has to give."

( @hollowfaith > @anghexescu )

Where barriers were destroyed, new ones are made from existing ones to continue their job. They move with lightning speed to catch up to the attacks that aimed to take down Dar'khol.

Klaus always did have a bleeding heart for the mortals, but perhaps that was why he was in touch with his emotions as he's always been. As a younger child, emotions weren't something he grasped easily and it wasn't until his father's passing that he learned exactly what it was.

Klaus has always been that being, and to hear his mother's singing, that changed nothing. To be in this form did nothing to silence those emotions. The raging fierce only grows and eventually---, eventually His force cuts through. Uriel succeeds and it allows for Klaus to slash The angel with ease. The seraph's own wings largens and at close proximity as Aurelius reaches to grab at its face, the seraphs mixture of color wings of black and white shoots out to stab through the angel in multiple places.

[innerbeast]

it's pleasant, having her laugh. a completely different atmosphere set into play compared to the first impressions they had given one another. dar'khol's smile is able to set with ease as the tension in them both ebbs away, slowly; allowing a means to relax a little in their shared moment.

fiyero's response aids in accentuating the miqo'te's already slanted smile, pushing up a corner with uplifted amusement. "got yourself a talent through 'nd through, managin' on 'nd off the field." his shoulders are set rolling in the waves of a light-hearted chuckle, mouth silenced with another meeting of his glass. "sounds like ya've got your work cut out for ya back home, but from what ya say 'nd what i've seen -- you're pretty damn capable. to hells' with what people may think o' tieflin's, i've got one already settin' my standards high for 'em."

as his glass is lowered, dar follows suit in achieving more comfort. his back joins against that of the booth seat, an arm brought up to rest along its width while a leg hooked over his other; ankle cast over a knee.

her next question earns the sight of a fang, confidence leading his grin as his tail is left to beat against crimson seating. hit the nail on the head, he couldn't deny it if he wanted to. " 'tis a good way o' gettin' the blood pumpin', makes ya feel alive. not a bad way of gettin' to know someone, either. can witness a lot that words can't convey." an airy snort escapes him, amused, before offering a quick bob of the head; a lazy means of a shrug.

"bloody good fun, too, if i'm to answer simply."

he cuts himself short with another mouthful, a drained glass propped upon the table soon after. with a lean, he's reaching for the wine bottle, stopping only once it was in hand with a quick, "may i?" and refilling once given permission. then he's seat bound again before long.

"though i believe i've had my fill for the time bein'." glass is swirled in hand again before downing another gulp, ears folding and rising -- perking at cheers and a thud from his ring. turning his head, he casts his attention towards his club; towards hollering patrons and the pair fighting within the cage. "...well, mostly, but yuri'd prob'ly kill me if i got into another mess like before, and so soon."

the unpleasant reminder of guilt not only had his ears folding back, but set a shudder along his spine. perfect excuse to bury his tongue under more wine.

a soft shrug when dar'khol mentions that he wouldn't have a reason for demanding he leave the second he saw the tiefling. pursing his lips, he swirls his own glass. ' you never know how amicable someone's willing to be after you sliced them up. i wouldn't have thought worse of you for it. ' briefly, fiyero thinks back to that human adventurer he had punched mere minutes after meeting him. though perhaps that's not a fair example. the man had started throwing slurs around so fast that he almost couldn't think before fiyero stood over his crumpled body with an aching fist.

   it does sting a bit that not even this guy wants fiyero's apology. it had seemed like the easiest option out of all of them, somebody entirely unrelated to him that he tried to cut down without question. he hadn't considered that dar'khol could be the type of person who shows dissatisfaction when the apology leaves his lips, waving a hand as if to chase it away. that's how unnecessary it is to him.

   because he's not bothered by the fight fiyero started— he enjoyed it. what a realization, one that leaves him a little baffled at first, and then entirely pleased, eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. a laugh startles out of him with his last comment, body relaxing into the seat behind him. now this, this is a song and dance he can do.

   ' that i do. ' get people hot and bothered. ' though usually outside of the battlefield. don't get me wrong, i'm far from a pacifist. the party that i lead back home is in a bit of a precarious situation and people don't look kindly upon tieflings. the past few weeks at home, i've done more killing than i would have liked. '

   an admission that seems alright, considering dar's entire demeanor about this. fiyero watches, amused, as the other downs his drink without much preamble. he can hear zevran in his mind complaining about that, how delicate a quality the wine is, but fiyero himself has never been one for the fancier food and drink. still, he takes his time, knowing his own tolerance, takes another small sip.

   crossing one leg over the other, he makes himself more comfortable. ' but you like the violence of it, hm? ' gesturing his glass towards dar'khol teasingly. ' i should have figured as much from your reactions. and the fact that you work here, of all places. there's a thrill in it, certainly, but i like to keep it to people that i think deserve it. and to the occasional training session, of course. '

[innerbeast]

he shouldn't be here.

a fact known to him from the start -- since first witnessing those memories the angel kept under lock and key. they should have never been his burden to bear, his secrets to pass along, but he had done so, anyway. damn, bleeding heart that he carries, crying out where it doesn't need to.

when would klaus have been made aware? 'i'll tell him when i'm ready', a response spoken within the demon's own voice, but they were words of the angels choosing. dar'khol didn't believe them then, and he sure as hell doesn't believe them now. it may have been never, or too late. klaus didn't deserve the darkened veil he'd been forced to wear.

now look at them. exposed to one another in their truest of forms; locked together to combat their differences -- with dar'khol strapped along for the ride.

off on the sidelines avoiding eradication by anything, and everything, aurelius deemed necessary to throw his way. from that accursed mesh he'd spiraled from to this new creation cobbled together. if not for klaus' consistently placed barriers, the demon would have no doubt been left with another limb to miss. or a fear to face all over again.

its assassination repelled, dar sets upon his feathered opponent, meeting holy fire with his own seething flames; dancing embers spilling from heaved breaths, splashing passed parted fangs. sharpened tips are met with ferocity's edge, the space between their clashes filled with rising heat; the beast expelling hellfire in abrupt bursts. like fireballs speeding off his tongue, their trailing smoke left billowing from dar'khol's throat.

even once his movements slow, his retaliation continues. regardless of if the angels puppet out speeds him -- this was nothing new, a premise upon the battlefield he was all but used to. great strength came with a cost, after all., but he utilized it well.

stray beads of his barrier aiding his slowed state.

where hardened feather would strike, protective pearls would shatter. holy fire combated by that of hellish creation; a means to cancel out what came his way right up to the point he could curl his claws around golden limbs. if the speed of his actions was to remain altered, then he'd take his time picking this thing apart. regardless of its bite, of its burn.

never did get to finish what he'd started before.

( @hollowfaith , @anghexescu )

As the now humanoid enemy makes way to stab Dar'khol from behind, the barrier that moves in direction, focusing its protection to shield Dar'khol from harm. Part of the barrier splits and shards scatter about, only making smaller barrier bubbles in its stead. The smaller barriers circles around Dar'khol in his largen form.

If Aurelius was working to distract Klaus, it had worked the moment the voice echoed. It worked for a moment, but that moment was enough for Aurelius. Words are not spoken, only the many eyes focuses on Aurelius after. Pupils of those eyes dilate and once more the mouths open and an overlapping high pitch noise leaves the mouths. This time the barriers shifts, moving quickly before the sound surrounds them to guard Dar'khol from the heavenly cacophony. Klaus Cries through the scream and does not relent when his sword CLANGS against Aurelius' blade. Uriel pulsate, only growing bigger in turn, almost as if the sword communicated with Ithuriel.

There are tears in the many eyes scattered across the seraph's form and as the seraph's emotions grow, uriel replies in kind. As the two weapons touch, Uriel beckons Ithuriel.

@innerbeast & @hollowfaith