#etykraks ic ;; all of us; some of us; love you

[thvndersnow]

@mantleoflight says ;;

Thin claws click against soft stone as a slim, robed figure made his way through the sand stone pathways of the Cosmodrome. It wasn’t easy staying unseen or at least unnoticed by guardians, but it did help having a few ghosts to keep an eye out and cover for him when he played dead. Fortunately, the blind vandal had managed to stay away from the Guardians’ attention. But the familiar sound of Eliksni footsteps has him waving away his little friends to hide. Turning to the sound, Kesivik leaned against his seeing staff and bowed his head. “Valask,” he said politely if not a bit skittishly. “I hope I am not trespassing. If I am, I will leave.”

etykraks is moving through the cosmodrome attempting to avoid both other eliksni and other guardians, the hood of his headscarf pulled to block the noontime sun from the two sensitive eyes on his right side. he has had a hard time, as of late, being in and around the city -- a harder time looking either zavala or misraaks in the eye. some time alone, just him and his ghost, will do him good, he thinks, and as he does, he leans his head against the little light nestled on his shoulder.

of course, it is while he's distracted that he stumbles upon someone else.

shakespeare is quick to decompile, tucking herself away into etykraks's neural net. the eliksni blinks down at his fellow in surprise, processing what has happened, before lowering his shoulders and clicking his mandibles.

"valask," he says, carefully. his voice carries the accent of devils -- though etykraks himself does not know it. "no, friend, my apologies. it seems that i am trespassing on you."

the titan glances from side to side. it is rare to find a vandal on their own, so he looks for this one's crew. the fact that he cannot see any crew is not much of a reassurance. he clicks again, this time to himself.

"i have to admit, i... was not expecting to find someone here."

[thvndersnow]

etykraks does not move. he does not dare. he is more than just the wall – he is a mountain, smaller, perhaps, than the abomination he stands before, but a mountain nonetheless. the snarl that rips through him is the first warning of an eruption, a warning taniks should heed. a warning, he knows, taniks will not heed.

if he is not having this conversation, then that is enough talking. taniks grabs etykraks’s wrist, and the eliksni lightbearer, quick as an asp, whips his head to bite down on the metal arm. were he a normal eliksni, this would have gotten him nothing save some broken teeth - but his solar light has been pooling as manifested magma in his throat and mouth this entire argument. when he bites, he lets that lava flow free.

"i am not having this conversation right now!"

electrical sparks and roaring mingle to spew forth in a violent roar. cogs and gears shriek in unholy protest as taniks turns to run, to pursue— only to have his pathway blocked. the shriek that bursts forth this time tears itself from beneath his own helmet. his head whips to the side. arc-blue optics pin his fellow eliksni.

“get out of my way.”

it is less a plea and more a snarled demand, an order given by an abomination barely holding himself together. its form trembles and twitches. crossed wires and twisted tubing causes its limbs to spasm. his head jerks to one side. but those eyes never once leave etykraks. they wouldn't dare.

“claim you are similar all you want, but i will not allow your lie to stop my hunt.” taniks' hand lashes out, to grab at etykraks' wrist. “they are my prey. they are nothing but prey. creatures unfit to weild the power they stole from us. bugs to be squashed for daring to walk with the so-called great machine.”

a growl rumbles in his chest, “they are things and nothing more.”

[thvndersnow]

@ahkein (x) ;;

"You're one of us," She murmurs, eyes locked onto one of the few scant momentos of her kin, of the Sunbreakers that no longer walked the sun-scorched sands of Mercury. The once mighty Sunbreakers' Order stood now as a mere trio of Guardians, two of whom had never seen the Order in its glory, had never witnessed the sheer unadulterated might of the Sunbreakers. Their history, their heritage, had been stolen from them by the Red Legion and now... Now it was up to Liu Feng alone to inspire them. To lead them, if they so wished it. She so hoped they did.

"You're one of us," She repeats, raising from her seated position to fix Etykraks with her eyes aflame, "A Sunbreaker. Though you wield not the hammer, you wield the flame. And as far as I'm concerned, that makes you a Sunbreaker. "And, as a Sunbreaker, that makes you exactly the person I want. Because all Sunbreakers are my kin. Thank you for being here. Thank you." Her voice cracks at the last minute.

he does not think, other than his ghost, a single person has wanted him from the moment of his rez.

that isn't to say etykraks has never known kindness. the vanguard has been kind to him, hospitable, but he sees the weariness in their eyes when his existence causes them consternation. other risen have been kind to him, but most tiptoe around him, unsure how to reconcile his presence with their preconceived notions of their place beneath the great machine. he has known kindness, yes; but only his ghost has ever shown him care.

that is, until now.

the eliksni clicks his mandibles thrice, soaking in liu feng's words. there is a swelling in his chest he cannot quite describe, a feeling not unlike the heat that rises up within him when his temper gets the better of him -- but this feeling warms like a hearth, rather than incinerating like magma. etykraks lowers his head and his eyes in respect, kneels down before the other sunbreaker.

(he is too tall, perhaps, for this to make much of a difference)

"i only hope, then, that i can give that title the honor it deserves."

[thvndersnow]

@fiirecracker says ;;

“Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.” // Leah @ Etykraks

the eliksni blinks at the hunter next to him. for a moment, he looks down at his own claws, contemplating them, before turning his eyes towards her hands. he tilts his head.

"...i do not think your nails would be very efficient at inflicting damage."

[thvndersnow]

@mantleoflight says ;;

Kesivik canted his head at Etykraks, listening for the movements of the other. ❝  you can’t be very wounded if you can stand for so long.  ❞ he remarked, noting that he hadn’t heard the other sit or fall. ❝  But… I do not know how wounds are for others. Perhaps you are tougher than most? ❞

etykraks only grunts in response at first, staring down at the hand that clutches the wound in his abdomen. most guardians become desensitized to this, he’s been told, but this has yet to happen for him – every fatal wound he receives feels like it will be the last. he counts himself lucky he had managed to evade the other eliksni to make his way back before bleeding out. he counts them lucky that his temper had not gotten the better of him.

he raises his hand, palm up, and shakespeare compiles on top of it. it doesn’t take long for her to begin to heal him, chitin and flesh knitting together beneath his palm. etykraks breathes a sigh of relief.

“i have been told some titans are known to keep going after receiving fatal injuries,” he finally responds, now that the pain is not so overwhelming. “i do not know if i am quite so strong, but… perhaps i have some of that tenacity in me.”

[thvndersnow]

etykraks nods at the explanation, unable to help the way his expression softens. he knows those feelings. if he was telling the truth, which he always is, he does not believe he was a warrior in his last life, either -- fighting always feels brutal and instinctual, less honed and calculated than he would like himself to be. since his rez, he has trained in the ways required of him, but his base is always the brutal violence of a mother protecting their brood.

on zavala's insistence, he has never sought out his own history, but that violent protective instinct has made him wonder. etykraks knows himself to be calm, reserved. this self image conflicts with his place on the battlefield, and with the volcanic eruption that is his light.

"yes," he affirms, gentle. "yes, you will learn."

another wheezing laugh. "yes, the silence is... well, it is the reason i prefer a sword, or my own light abilities. the terran guns i have been given do not often feel suited for my hands.

"but i think you are improving already. perhaps if you adjusted it for your own needs, rather than trying to hold it exactly as terrans do, you might see more success?" he tips his head. "you could try a heavier draw, using all four arms."

@oceanssecond

Kyklyks had been surprised and Rizlis was not sure if she had been thrilled when she rezzed them for the first time. The only example of Eliksni guardians was standing in front of them now. Kyklyks had been searching for so long, finding the little shine in a frozen corpse ages old. It was natural for both ghost and guardian to look to Etykraks for example on how to exist.

Rizlis is glad to be out with Etykraks over any other guardian, knowing they felt similar. They knew how eliksni moved, what their clicks meant, and Rizlis felt no shame when fumbling with their light around one of their kin.

The smaller of the two tries not to shrink back, they felt too nervous to be a guardian at times. Shy around the humanfolk in the tower as well as those of their own kin. "It is alright, alright. You do your best, best. Kyklyks thinks was not warrior in last life." That is to explain that Rizlis was learning on the fly how to handle being swarmed with enemies and fighting.

"We will learn, learn, yes." A new light, still learning to understand how the light flows through them. How to call upon the void to aid them. Smoke bombs were still taking them longer to create and use on the fly, if they could have vanished out of sight in the blink of an eye, one of their arms would not have been lost.

Two happy chirps are given, head nodding up as they did, "We like it, quite a bit, a bit. Sound is not so loud." The bow was much quieter than other weapons of choice, it's why they had been drawn to it when presented the arsenal. "Limbs are awkward. Not as fluid as humans yet, yet."

[thvndersnow]

TAG DUMP 2 ;;

eliksni time

ETYKRAKS TAGS:

etykraks tag ;; the cracks of my skin can prove as the years will testify

etykraks hc ;; as I breathe into our silence there's a voice that comforts me

etykraks aes ;; there's a beautiful sadness that runs through him

etykraks ic ;; all of us; some of us; love you

--

IIKSIIKS TAGS:

iiksiiks tag ;; time and again boys are raised to be men

iiksiiks hc ;; we'll press and press 'til you can't take it anymore

iiksiiks aes ;; may your ashes feed the river in the morning rays

iiksiiks ic ;; you must fix your heart

--

MIILAK TAGS:

miilak tag ;; sycophants on velvet sofas; lavish mansions; vintage wine

miilak hc ;; all of your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine

miilak aes ;; if it feels good tastes good it must be mine

miilak ic ;; this old world is a new world and a bold world for met

[thvndersnow]

@fiirecracker says ;;

❝ i am here because i believe that we will win. i am staying until the end. ❞ // leah @ etykraks

the eliksni titan’s expression softens, in so much an eliksni’s expression can. his mandibles relax on his jaw, and he bends down and leans over, bunting his skull plate gently against the side of her head. after the arrival of house light in the city’s walls, he’d hoped he might feel more at peace here; all he’d found, however, is more questions, more uncertainty. he cannot express in words what it means to him that leah has stayed by his side. he cannot express in words the cooling salve she has been on his heart.

“thank you.” the words are simple, but it is all he can say to communicate these feelings. all he can say is thank you.

[thvndersnow]

the warm reception from the other ghosts has etykraks purring his approval, expression softening as he watches the way crystal interacts with shakespeare. shakespeare twists her shell this way and that, seemingly nervous — it is not often that they recieve this sort of greeting, but she is trying to find it encouraging, nonetheless.

shakespeare's shell is simple — the generalist, a plain cream-white with no special adornments. the only thing that really makes her stand out is her optic, a crimson that matches the eyes on one side of etykraks's face.

”it is good to meet you, crysal, quarry, reeves.” etykraks speaks each name like he is testing it on his mandibles, trying to make them fit on his tongue. he nods to each ghost in turn, reverant.

“i am… glad to hear you say that, kesivik,” etykraks continues, voice soft. “there are few eliksni i have met who have felt that way about me. it is good to know you do.

“i… feel empathy, for some of them. i understand their pain. but i hope my being risen can mean something for us, as a people. i hope to be a bridge.”

he hesitates at crystal's questioning, chuckles at her eagerness.

“i-i f-found him in the EDZ.“ shakespeare speaks with a slight stutter, not out of nerves -- just a glitch of her vocalizer. ”i kn-kn-knew he was mine, the moment i scanned his b-body. he was my guardian. i-i didn't know him before.“

“i wanted her to keep her name because i thought it sounded, ah… fierce. a warrior's name.” etykraks rubs the back of his neck, embarassed. “…i found out later the actual meaning behind it. but a poet's name suits just as well.”

The ghost hovering in Kesivik's hand looked up at Etykraks and his ghost, her gaze flicking at the two in both wonder and surprise.

"Wait, so, he's your guardian?" she asked Shakespear, a hint of excitement in her stern voice. "You were able to choose him?" She turned to Kesivik and her companion that hovered by his head. They weren't alone - another ghost has picked an Eliksni partner - more than that, now they knew they could!

"I'm Crystal," the ghost said, looking up at the eliksni titan and his ghost. "The one hovering by Kesivik's head is Quarry and the one hiding under his cloak is Reeves."

"Hello..." Reeves called, his voice small and timid. He floated forward a bit so as to be seen before drifting back to hide. The feeling of "please don't perceive me" radiated from the little ghost as Kesivilk gave him a gentle pat with his secondaries.

"He's the nervous one, but he's quick to notice danger and get you out in a pinch," Crystal said, glancing back at Reeves before looking up at Shakespear. "Glad to hear your chosen's a good one. Most others outside the crew Kesivik's aunt leads look at us as target practice."

Kesivik gave a nod and looked in the direction of his new friend. "Crystal speaks truth," he said unhappily. "Our people seek the great machine, not to receive its blessings as humans have, but to take them as the Hive and Cabal take..." He sighed and shook his head. "Many are angry and wish to take vengeance too. But the Great Machine gives and gives to all who turn to it and receive without anger in their hearts.”

He lifted his head, feeling the light of little Shakespear, and smiled. "I am glad to know that some of us are still chosen of the Great Machine, even if only through its children."

Crystal looked from Kesivik back to the other two. "So, question, Shakespear was named before she found you. Did you two not want to change the name or was it just too good to pass up? Also, second question, did you two know each other before you were risen? Or was it like choosing any other guardian? Asking as reference.”

[thvndersnow]

etykraks raises his eyes to look upon her face, tips his head upwards as he does. he has never been a confident eliksni, at least not since he had been risen; always on too unsure a footing, always acquiescing and holding back for other people’s benefit. etykraks is used to folding himself up and away for the appeasement of those around him. but the way liu feng speaks to him has given him a spark of that confidence he knows a titan, a true titan, should embody.

etykraks is a volcano. he is dormant magma, a planet’s most base elements rendered molten, hidden just beneath the surface of a mighty mountain. should he erupt, nothing would be left of his opponents – not even bone. liu feng makes him remember this. his mandibles flex, nostrils flaring as he gives her a nod.

“etykraks,” he responds. when he reaches up to take her hand, there is an air of awkwardness to the motion – not because he shies away, but because it is not a movement he has practiced, one he has seen in action, but never done himself. his three fingers wrap around her smaller hand, and he gives it a squeeze as he shakes it. “i am etykraks. and it is an honor to meet you, liu feng. truly.”

Tears unwanted evaporate the moment they drop from her eyelashes. She won't permit them fall. Grief is her permanent companion but she will dispense of its eternal song not through tears but through tearing, the armour and flesh of those that had desecrated the Burning Shrine, that had slain her family.

But even that must be shelved. There are new flames to kindle, a brother to guide in the ways of the Sunbreakers.

"I have every confidence in you."

I only wish I had the same confidence in myself, it goes unspoken. If Ouros were here... But, she's not. Nor Aodh. Perhaps, had they not stuck so rigidly to the old ways, they... So much swirling in her head that she could barely make sense of. She closes her eyes and breathes deep of the air, the smell of char and steel.

"... I am Liu Feng, the Fourth Empyreal Magistrate of the Sunbreakers Order. Wherever I am, you have a sister. Wherever I am, you have an ally. Wherever I am... You have a home."

Her eyes linger on the knelt form of the Eliksni before her. And then she reaches out to clap him on the shoulder once, twice. Her brave face wavers in this new and strange world, but she wears a smile just for him.

"Tell me your name, brother," She holds out her hand, "And shake my hand while you do it."

[thvndersnow]

etykraks cannot help the awe that overtakes him, the way he lowers himself to be more at eye-level with the three ghosts. there is something holy here, he thinks, a sacredness in the way these little lights trust this vandal. it is the same as the bond he shares with his ghost, without the exchange of light – and perhaps, in that way, it is transcendent. shakespeare, perhaps recognizing this religious fervor in her guardian (there is a sense that she is used to this sort of behavior), bops herself against his head to snap him back to reality. etykraks blinks, clears his throat apologetically.

“i am etykraks, little light. and she is shakespeare. she was, ah… named before she found me.” he is almost sheepish about this – misraaks’s house has questioned the very terran name of his ghost before.

“i do not blame you for your wariness. i have not met many fellow eliksni who consider the great machine’s brood with kindness – none outside of the city’s walls, at least. but i can assure you i am friend as well. i… well.” his hands fidget. shakespeare bops him again. “shakespeare chose me. i would not harm her fellows.”

In the moment of silence between them, Kesivik's hands clenched and he felt his heart begin to race. Had he said something wrong? Had he spoken too much again? He remembered the last time he'd spoken too boldly about the Light. The baron had nearly killed him for his blasphemy and it was only by the rank of his teacher as Archon--or one of them.

Kesivik shifted nervously, turning his head as if to glance around before lifting it as the captain spoke. He hadn't offended him. The vandal stifled a sigh of relief, instead putting that energy into committing the name to memory.

"Etykraks," he repeated, his mandibles clicking softly as he listened to the other. Then he felt it - the pulse of light and the soft, radiant presence of the other's ghost. Slowly, carefully, Kesivik extended his hand, not to touch but merely feel the Ghost's presence as one would feel a fire's warmth.

"You have a Servitor of the Great Machine…” he said in quiet surprise. If he was honest, he hadn’t expected the Ghost to reveal itself so quickly and not at the beckoning of another. Did it belong to this unusual captain?

Hearing Etykraks’ question, the vandal withdrew his hand back and hummed pensively. “I shall show you,” he said and turned to the sandstone wall. He made a series of five clicks, waited, and then clicked his mandibles again. Slowly, the light of three tiny optics glinted in the sandstone crags as three ghosts drifted down toward the vandal.

Holding his staff im one hand, Kesivik held out his hands to the three. The first opted to hover near his head, a firm, stalwart air about him. The second drifted down towards his free primary hand, her eye locked on the other two, while the third hid in his secondary hand under the protection of Kesivik’s tattered cloak.

He smiled behind his ether mask. “I am also a friend of the Great Machine and the Light Servitors. But I do not bring them out when others are near.”

“For good reason,” the second ghost said and narrowed her optic at the pair. “Now, who’re you guys?”

[thvndersnow]

“i am not different just because you want it to be so!” droplets of magma fly from etykraks’s mouth, sizzling and popping as they land and rapidly cool on the ground in front of him. instinctively, he moves to block his fellow lightbearer’s exit. his throat his glowing a dangerous shade of red, the light welling up within it threatening to pour out.

“my ghost did not revive me any differently. being eliksni has changed nothing for me compared to them. i think my own thoughts, i choose my own path, and so do they. just because you want them to be puppets, just because you would like something thoughtless and brainless to take out all your anger on, it does does not make them so!”

magma drips from between his mandibles. he spreads them and bares his teeth, every inch of the normally reserved titan screaming for taniks to dare to try and fight him.

“you cannot change the truth by willing it. i am the same as them.”

"you are different!"

smoke and exhaust pour from the creature's twisted mouth. the machinery in his chest roars in defiance, in indignation. how dare etykraks believe himself to be like those creatures? like those horrid, disgusting dead things that wholesale slaughter their people. it's laughable.

"the great machine was always meant to be ours." those blades he calls fingers curl close to his chest, tapping where his fuel pump struggles. "it fled in fear. it left us to die. you were always meant to exist, little mother, but they..."

he points now, to where the lightbearer fled.

"they are but hollow puppets. they are the accidents that came from its cowardice. and i intend to show this so-called great machine they were just another of its mistakes."

[thvndersnow]

though etykraks has trouble reading the terrans he often finds himself amongst, it is almost a relief that it is not so with other eliksni – even when the eliksni he is reading is showing clear signs of tension at his presence. he understands that outside of house light this is often the case, when two eliksni meet; he understands that eliksni in the field without a shared house find it hard to trust one another. instinctively, he ducks his posture, turns inwards on himself to become less imposing -- he does not even realize that he's doing it.

"kesivik," he repeats, clicking softly as he does. he returns the bow. "you are traveling... without company? that seems dangerous. though... i suppose i am not one to talk. i am etykraks."

etykraks is taken aback by kesivik's statement, as well as the boldness with which it is said. he blinks slowly, opens his mouth. closes it. opens it again.

"...a friend. yes. that could be said of me." his mandibles flex. his fingers twitch uncomfortably. "but forgive me, i am... surprised you could tell such things. most i've met would not know how to."

after a moment's hesitation, etykraks holds a hand in front of himself. shakespeare compiles in his palm, her white shell twisting as she turns her optic towards him.

"how did you know?"

Kesivik leaned forward on his staff, holding it with his primary claws as he listened. The other eliksni sounded large with heavy steps. Possibly a captain, though their armor sounded… odd. Like guardian make. Perhaps a Light hunter? A guardian trophy collector? Or were they of the new House Light he’d heard of?

His head perked up as he felt a soft pulse of Light a little ways ahead. A Ghost? A lightbearer? It sure felt like one of his little friends, but they were all hiding now, and it was gone in a moment. Was it hiding too? Watching to see if it was safe to come out? If it was a Ghost—to know a light was with a fellow Eliksni was thrilling! Perhaps he wasn’t alone!

Then he heard the captain’s voice and tensed at subtle accent of House Devils. He took a strap back, his grip tightening against his staff. A Devil’s captain… a young one by the sound of it. He’d have to tread carefully… yet the pulse of light…

Focusing his sightless gaze in the direction of the voice, the vandal gave a small bow. “No apologies needed,” he said reassuringly. “We all must find our place somewhere on this rock. Though I did not expect anyone else here either.”

He felt a soft pulse from Quarry and Crystal, the two ghosts no doubt hidden in the small reassesses if the sandstone wall. It made him curious. He wanted to ask outright, but wasn’t sure if he should. Was it another ghost he felt? If it was, were they friends with this captain like his were with him? Or was it something else? So many questions…

“I am Kesivik,” he said, hunching in a respectful bow, “I was seeking shelter from the violence abroad. Blindness is not a boon for those on the battlefield, yet I have survived.”

He paused and canted his head as if considering the other. “Forgive me, I cannot see you, but you feel touched by Light. Are you a friend to the Great Machine? Or perhaps to the little Servitors it’s made?”

[thvndersnow]

etykraks's eyes are gentle as he regards the marauder-sized eliksni. he has to admit that it is nice to have another like him, to have someone he can speak to in his own tongue, an eliksni who does not shy away from his abilities or his ghost. after his rez, the vanguard had held him secret until the incident with eramis - and after the incident with eramis, his own people had come to regard him with fear. now that rizlis is here, some of those wounds have been soothed. he is not an anomaly.

"it is alright," he assures, a purr rising up in his throat. he clicks his mandibles, lowers himself to be more at-level with rizlis to examine the now-healed wound. "i am simply glad it was not worse. my apologies, for not keeping their attention."

etykraks wheezes out a bemused laugh -- the eliksni equivalent of one, anyways -- nodding at his eager fellow's questions.

"i am sure they will be. you did very well." he pulls himself back up to his full height, holsters his rifle on his back. shakespeare compiles at his shoulder, begins to knit his own scrapes back together.

"how did you find that bow treating you?"

@thvndersnow ❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜  - from Etykraks, for Rizlis

The oddest thing about being a lightbearer was the little machine that whirled around their head and would bring their corpse like from the dead over and over. Rizlis was always grateful for Kyklyks, for she was their first friend. The first to come memory, even as much older memories started to creep their way back, cold and starving.

A chirp is made as their kin comes to them, as Kyklyks finishes up repairing their forth arm. Their eye dips, all eyes blinking and they lower their bow down. Learning to use a bow with four arm was a feat for their teachers were only human, but they were determined to match the cool of the older hunter guardians. Piercing armor shells with a perfectly sent arrow.

"Sorry, sorry." They chirp almost like a child, they felt in comparison that Etykraks was a better guardian. An example to follow as they were kin, like them but Rizlis was still newly awake and understanding how their paracausal gifts worked was still a process.

"We got them, right, right? Cleared out of this area good. The vanguard will be pleased with us, yes, yes?" Hopeful clicks for the work that was completed. Rizlis managed themselves fine in combat, but they fared much better staying out of sight, missions where getting in the fray were not as necessary.

[thvndersnow]

etykraks startles at the claws, but as he blinks down at them, he has to admit, he is impressed. the eliksni chirps and clicks, taking one of her hands in his to turn it over and examine the newly formed weapons. there is a hint of unease in his stomach, as there always is when he thinks of violence, but he is not naive – he knows the world leah comes from. he knows the world his own people live in.

“i do not think it is your job to protect me, leah,” he rumbles. he is a titan, after all, and as far as he has been made aware, the hunter should be under his protection. “...but i appreciate the sentiment, and your commitment to it.”

"you vastly underestimate my abilities," grins the revenant, and elbows the eliksni. "i'm not so foolish as to allow myself helplessness."

as it to demonstrate, leah offers out her hand, fingers splayed. there are no mods on her gloved hands; no ugly metal or circuitry to interrupt her pink aesthetic. it is untouched and pure. that is, until stasis crystals form at the tip of each finger. sharp and jagged, curved and thin; a shrike's beak, ready to rend and tear at the first taste of blood.

"don't worry. if anything happens, i'll protect you."

[thvndersnow]

“if they are dead things, then so am i.” etykraks’s hackles are raised, mismatched eyes fixed on the monster in front of him. taniks is larger, but still the titan bows up to him, puffing out his chest and clenching his fists. every part of him is an eliksni mother ready to defend.

“both things must be true, taniks. i cannot be any more alive than they are. i can not be any more a person than they are. i am the same. so if they are deserving of wholesale slaughter, of torture, then i must be as well.”

❝ you have killed them and taken your vengeance. it is enough. ❞ — from etykraks to taniks | @thvndersnow

“it is never enough!” 

the monster’s voice roars from deep within, gravel grating against grinding gears. it is not terran, the sound he makes; it is not even organic. it is machine and hate and flayed nerved endings. it is raw and vile. it is taniks, the abomination, pure and simple. 

heavy shoulders rise and fall. the machinery in his chest screams. he does not raise his voice this time, and instead emphasizes, “they are already dead, little mother. i am simply… relieving them of their continued burden. i am saving our people, one dead thing at a time.” 

and if he earns a good enough living from it, then so be it. man or monster, they all need glimmer in the end.