#lokitan

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-10 - Feast/Sleepless

- [ MUSIC ] -

“I’m dying, Jackary.”

The words caught the beast off guard as he strolled through the quiet forest of Teldrassil, barefoot and allowing his ever-present trail of flowers to flow in his wake. Next to the tall blond had been a far shorter elf-shaped man, armed to the teeth in weaponry and dressed in form-fitting leather. While they were a stark contrast to one another, the words alone had drawn Jackary to a standstill.

“I... What?”

It was right after a family feast, right after a great speech had been given about coming changes and freedom and how deeply the rogue appreciated the family he had built over the years. The pair had been laughing together, reminiscing about the past... And suddenly…

Suddenly it made sense.

“Don’t fuck around with me like that, Lok’,” Jack couldn’t help but awkwardly laugh as if it was some stupid joke that his cousin had decided to drop. If he, in his early life, was a sigil of life, his best friend was the sigil of death. They complimented each other, they went everywhere together. Of all things, Lokitan was the reason Jack wound up in Azeroth in the first place.

“I wish I could,” Loki hummed, slowing to a standstill where he could finally light a cigarette he’d fetched and drew in a deep inhale, calming the nerves that were rising in the conversation at hand.”I am fadin’ away and I can feel it, won’t be long now.”

Jack stood silently in disbelief, the reason they had gone walking through an Alliance claimed territory wasn’t to simply ruffle some feathers, it was because it was where their journey had begun together. It was made clear when Jack looked anywhere but at his cousin, realizing he was in the near exact spot he’d appeared in his own crash landing.

‘So, what? You brought me out here to--”

“To say goodbye, yeah.” Cutting off the emerald, Lokitan lifted a crimson eye upward, staring for a long moment. He gave a small smirk. “It’ll be alright, you’ll be fine.”

Would he?

Claws pushed through Jack's long, unruly locks of hair to pull them back and up into a ponytail, keeping the weighted tresses from his face while it gave him time to think, “So just like that, you’re… You’re gone then. When--?” As he questioned just how long Lokitan had left, when he turned to face his cousin, he could already see parts of the rogue turning brittle, fluttering away in the faint, cool breeze around them like nothing more than ash.

“We have outstayed our welcome, you and I.” Lokitan drew in another slow inhale of his cigarette, pondering over what he wanted his final words to be. “We’ve also been through a lot, ever since we were little. We always got into so much shit, heh...” The shadowed dragon smirked to himself, baring a set of fangs in amusement. Bittersweet really, that it was to be Jackary he spent his final moments with when it had also been Jack that helped bring him into the world to cause chaos.

“Do you have any regrets…?” Jack asked quietly, finding himself fidgeting with his own fingers.

“A few,” Loki replied rather abruptly, wetting his lips while his vision raised to look up at the trees above, noting the stars beyond the greenery. “I regret not coming sooner to help you that night, I regret you binding your wings to service. I regret falling in love…” He trailed off at that point, seeming less inclined to want to discuss it.

Jack frowned further, still attempting to wrap his head around what was happening, and yet there he stood, speaking casually with the man that may as well have been his own brother, they were of flesh and blood. Two princes that ran away from home and carried their heritage only by name. Chaoti meant nothing in Azeroth. Jaden and Heran meant nothing, either. They were just names, something no one even blinked at. And of all of the travels the two had been through, the endless adventures or bickering or laughter or beauty or horror, suddenly it was just… ending.

Just like that.

Everything had an ending, certainly, but…

“Don’t leave me…”

Lokitan barked out a bout of laughter at that, smiling as he glanced over to Jackary, though he could see just how much the Emerald was hurting. Such caused that smile to falter. “I can’t stay…”

“You can....” Jack furrowed, shaking his head a bit before throwing his hand out to the side. “You of all people can stay! You can’t leave me..! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” The voice echoed through the quiet trees, ruffling the feathers of a few birds that flitted away, the echo faded soon after.

“Jackary... Don’t make this harder than it is.”

“No! Fuck you! Fuck you,” Jack inhaled a bit, eyes narrowed when the unnatural sting formed in their corners. Each motion became a pacing step back and forth, his hair swayed behind him. Flowers and grass only further grew outward from his position only to die once close enough to the stand-still rogue. “You brought me here. We came here together, I came here for YOU, WITH YOU! We promised each other we’d never leave one another’s side, you fucking LIAR! You promised, Lokitan Jaden! YOU PROMISED ME!”

Watching the Emerald struggle with anything brought on the protective nature of the small Infinite. Through the beast’s rapidly increased pacing, a hand reached over to suddenly grab Jack’s arm to yank him over and downward into a tight hug.

Loki never hugged anyone.

“Jackary…” He whispered softly, fondly in the captured drake’s ear. “You have been the only one in our family, our past, or history that has ever shown me kindness and love. You’ve had endless patience, you’ve also been a complete fuckwit and you deserve that scar on your chin for what you did, but… You’re going to be okay. You’re going to move forward from this and you will find a new life, a new love, and a new family. You will find people you belong to… Beyond our name, beyond our past transgressions…. Someday you’ll forget about the horrors..”

“I don’t want to…” When had Jackary hugged back? When had he been hunching and clinging so tightly that he could hear the groaning echoes of the leather giving way to the grasp? “Please, I’ve had you with me all my life… Please… I need someone to keep me sane, to keep me in check. Please don't go.”

“You’ll find someone who will stand up to you and your bullshit. You’ll find a warm home again. I know this…” Lokitan sank faintly into the larger male’s grip, feeling the weakening sensation growing even more. “I know this because you have an air about you and people will find you addictive to be around. Keep your wings... Keep your wings and soar…”

“Don’t make me stay here alone…” Nails bit into the leathers, though with every passing second, he could feel the tension of a body between his arms begin to wilt and crumble, he couldn’t even look. He couldn’t bring himself to see Lokitan fade away. A man who had saved his life and who had saved him from the horrors of his ex-wife. His best friend.

“I love you, Jackary Heran.”

Those were the final words that escaped before arms found themselves collapsing around nothing but an ash pile of leathers and knives. The weaponry clanked when it hit the forest floor, leaving the black dust to cling to Jackary’s figure.

When had he dropped to his knees?

When had it become so dark?

When had rain gradually washed the ash from his skin?

When had Loki known he was going to die and why hadn’t he told Jackary about it?

Rock after rock, stone after stone, a small, unmarked grave was built, tucked away where no adventurer could find it unless they knew where to look. A sleepless night was spent marking the spot where the rogue had finally fallen.

When had this happened?

When did the memory of it start to fade?

A grave that would be of importance later, but that was for another story.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[oldizabeau]

felt like drawing Lokitan~~

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-15 - Memory/Chase

TW: Blood | Body Horror | Disturbing Images

-[ MUSIC ] -

Insanity.

In Azeroth, it was known as The Madness, The Darkening, the Dragon’s Sickness... The Nightmare. In many worlds, in millions of languages, it had endless names but it always meant the same thing. A corruption, often brought on by nightmarish feelings or situations, that ate the being alive, twisting it into something else entirely. Dragons fell particularly hard to such a toxic curse, especially.

This was no exception.

“DO NOT LET HIM GET INTO THE FOREST, WE’LL FUCKING LOSE HIM FOREVER!!”

Lokitan screamed as a mere handful of the Heran army raced upon war-bred Granondo, a clove-hooved type horse with coiled horns, best used to ram incoming enemies. Terrifyingly fast creatures that feared nothing in the heat of battle and yet they could not quite keep up with the terror streaking through the rotting fields of a dying wasteland and seemed even less inclined to get anywhere near it.

The target they hunted was a slithering creature running on all fours, bones twisted and inhuman with long tendrils of muddied hair, making the thing look even more sickly in the way that it hung over the face. Now and then, piercing silver eyes would dart back to see just how much closer its pursuers had come in the wild hunt, noting the way the warriors had begun to flank it. If only it could reach the edge of the forest, the beast would have a far better tactical advantage and a speed increase, let alone an easier time to attack those that hunted it.

“Loki!” A voice called out and soon a female rider pushed her steed up to the Dread Prince himself, eyes narrowed, glancing over in his direction. Fire blazed all around her, the snowy locks of her hair wild and free as a hellish set of crimson eyes flitted to the dark-haired rogue. “What do we do if it gets to the forest before we can reach him?!”

“You pray to your mother that we take him down before that.”

Chaos.

It was absolute chaos and he had just told her to pray to the deity that created it.

Inch after inch, Lokitan pressed forward, signaling the General’s finest men to continue flanking the beast, heels dug in harder into his skeletal Granondo to push onward and finally close in the distance of the skittering cretin running on all fours. Once close enough, the agile Prince pushed himself to crouch atop the saddle; he lunged, flickering through the very shadows to reappear right on top of the nightmarish beast. He dared not draw a weapon.

Not against this one.

The clashing form was greeted by the muddied, anemic animal twisting itself to bite hard at its would-be attacker, using the momentum to kick Lokitan right off and send him flying. That mere few seconds to protect itself was costing its safety to get into the forest. A loud shrieking cry pierced through the veil of carnage, knowing the chase was quickly coming to an end. Claws grabbed at the deep red mud below, years of war and corpses all around, the thick blood of countless soldiers meshed together with protected soils and painful, bitter rain. The slick surface had the creature try another attempt to break free, slipping the first few steps.

It was so close… The forest was but a hundred yards away.

Lokitan rolled through the slimy fighting ground, catching himself to snag at the beast’s ankle, yanking it back to throw it in the other direction. He was doing all he could to buy the warriors more time to position themselves and close in on the fighting pair.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Jack.”

Melted silver raised from under the long strands of hair while the beast hunched itself further, a deep snarl and razored fangs revealed themselves in a warning. The aggressive display had Loki push himself to stand and raise his clawed hands, exposing that he was as unarmed as he could possibly be. He stared down at the nightmare-fueled version of his cousin, his best friend who he knew was in so much pain that he had allowed the darkness to consume his heart.

“Look at me, Jackary… I don’t want to hurt you, hn..?”

There was a brief pause and for a moment, the world stood still. Even the droplets of sweat and foul mud froze in place for a fraction of a second while the thing Lokitan referred to as ‘Jackary’ mulled over its choices. Heavy breaths of air pushed out, bellowed in smoke pouring from its twisted jaw that was filled with acidic drool that flopped to the ground in large globs - a clear sign of the beast’s stress.

“Let’s get you home… Let’s get cleaned up…” A leather-clad hand dared to reach for the unholy creation but within a blink of an eye, time sped back up. Teeth snapped at the grasp, claws raised to full-on attack the one being that kept the beast from the forest it was trying to get to.

“FUCKING--!” Loki found himself head to head with the writhing mass of acid-spitting, half-transformed wyrm, a Beast of Insanity that wore a Prince’s crown and who was upsetting the balance of life and death. Without one, there couldn’t truly be another. Every snap of the jowls and swipe of talons was blocked or barely dodged, up until Lokitan lost his footing.

Slipping, he found himself under those wild jaws, hands clasped the wide-open maw above him that threatened to clamp down on his face and bite his skull clean in half. Muscles ached, his posture shook from trying to push what was once his peaceful, loving cousin off him. It wasn’t until another bubbling mixture of acid was seen dripping from under the beast’s tongue that the rogue knew he was in deep trouble… He was going to have to hurt the beast or die.

One hand released the mouth and in a split-second decision, the palm shoved up hard to strike at the creature’s jawline, his intensely sharp claws sliced the beast’s right jaw, stunning and pushing it away, jarred in surprise. It left Lokitan with just the smallest leeway to raise his hand up in the air, giving a hidden signal.

The Insanity-addled creature hissed loudly but before it could turn to lunge the last few steps to disappear into the forest and become a haunting ghost, a slough of chains and ropes fell atop it, blanketing the wild creature. The engineered nets implanted themselves into the dirt below, radiating pulsations of electrical charges to stun the captured beast into a horrifying submission. The haunting screams of agony, half-human, half-dragon rang out in a near ear-shattering volume.

Only when it stopped struggling to even stand did the shocking currents of energy cease their barbaric, but effective, handling.

“Are you hurt?” The woman from earlier charged forward, sliding down from her fiery warsteed to help Lokitan up from the wet earth.

“No,” Lokitan spat out, snagging the hand to be hoisted up, wincing when it indeed hurt to put any sort of weight on one of his legs. Glancing down at it, he was sure there was likely a fracture somewhere... But now wasn’t the time to dawdle.

“Well, you’re not dead, dear brother, so…” Musing, she helped at least support the Dark Prince, glancing down at the wheezing, now bleeding beast. “This isn’t curable, you know. When someone falls to the Insanity, they don’t come back.”

“Untrue,” Loki quipped, hobbling over with his sister’s help until he was able to ease down and sit next to the captured animal. A gloved hand reached forward, pushing the black hair from its face to indeed reveal a half transformed Jackary, the silver spiral of his eyes a dead giveaway at the corruption. “There was a Priest once who fought it and contained it. Rumour has it he wanders around with a single spiral eye, hn? Fucked up shit.”

The woman sighed, almost huffing while a hand motioned down to what remained of Jack. “Look at him, Lokitan. Half transformed, his brain isn’t fucking in there anymore. Put the thing out of its misery and let the avatar of Life be passed down elsewhere. It’ll rebirth by tomorrow, save your own ass.”

“No.” Lokitan took a moment to grip the skull before him, pinning the dragon further as a small crimson glow overtook his eyes. “He was never meant to hurt anyone, it was her that drove him to this.”

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty fucking dead, now isn’t she?”

A hand waved the antsy woman off, freeing Lokitan to simply focus on the inner workings of the beast before him. It was a rare trick the Rogue had up his sleeve and normally it was used to delve into someone’s memories, to unlock what terrifies them the most to use it against them… But what if, he thought, what if he could use it in reverse?

Time ticked by, allowing the dark, shadowy tendrils of his own essence to seep into Jackary’s form, filtering through and plucking every little bit of the corruption to neatly gather it within. A simple box was made at first, deep inside the dragon’s brain. Soon it was locked away and chained relentlessly to his psyche. A personality that he could never escape from, one that in time, would briefly show a fraction of itself and be referred to as…

Naga.

“M’sorry…” Loki whispered while he worked, remolding and melding Jackary’s very essence and memories to pull him from an otherwise impossible return. It was an attempt to do this or be forced to kill him and Lokitan wasn’t sure he inwardly had the power to do that. “You were designed to never forget.. But if you always remember, there is no saving you from the corruption that has been planted within you.”

Lokitan frowned, rubbing his thumb slowly, sweetly along Jackary’s forehead, the beast had long since stopped trying to fight back. It was lethargic.

“I am taking this from you, Jackary. This thing that turned you into something you aren’t.” Lokitan cooed, almost fondly at his twisted cousin as each memory leading up to a certain event was plucked and stolen away and yet what Lokitan hadn’t realized was that in making such a small hole in Jack’s memory, it served as an endless void. A slow-drip leak that would cause him to forever forget things after a while. A blessing and a curse in the future, but at that moment, when Lokitan gazed down and saw the beginnings of Peridot return to those eyes, he knew it was the best decision he could have made.

---

Darnath quietly clamped the journal closed with a small squeeze to the spine, the entry had been written in a far different font and form which made him think that perhaps Lokitan had written it instead. But... Where the memory that had been stolen was placed was beyond the Dragonsworn.

Stormy grey pools glanced at the snoozing blond curled against his side. Jack, in an elven form, had been cozying up for a small nap while his Knight read, blissfully unaware of what haunting stories Darnath had been refamiliarizing himself with once more. The Champion glanced to the spine of the journal, noting the number upon it, and raised his vision upward. The book he was really looking for must have been the one right before this… Maybe that one held the answer he was looking for.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-12 Ball/Gravestone

- [ MUSIC ] -

Year after year it was the same thing.

What had once been an unmarked grave had been decorated with a simple gravestone, the only words etched across it had been LOKITAN CHAOTI. A plain-looking decoration, nothing truly fancy, certainly nothing that would garner the attention of anyone who would desecrate it. It was in a peaceful part of Teldrassil, a place that had a beginning, a middle, and an end in several parts of a fated story.

Before it stood Jack and Darnath, hand in hand.

It had become a tradition, something that Jack once first dragged Darnath with and rambled on for an entire evening about Lokitan, lost in alcohol and memories of laughter and tears and the Dragonsworn had smiled through it all each time he got to witness such a frail side of his dragon. It was such a bonding moment each and every time and it had become a simple habit. Once a year, it was a date marked off that they went to the forest to mark several anniversaries in one but it always started with visiting the Infinite’s resting place.

Year after year, yes. But it had become increasingly darker each and every time they went there, the blips of memories that Jack reminisced about were fading until one day… That one fateful day.

“I don’t even know who this is,” Jack admitted quietly under his breath after having been silent for quite some time; he furrowed a bit. “But they have my last name, so… Gotta be important to visit them, right?”

Such words drove a small pang into Darnath’s heart, the steady realization that one day, he and Azurick would suffer the same fate. He, too, would be the most important person in the world - the one Lokitan foretold Jackary of - and still be nothing but a faded memory if time marched on long enough.

“I just feel the need to come here… For someone, I don’t know.” Don’t remember? No, Jack had stopped trying to face his memory loss long ago, the thought was too painful but in his quiet lament, he hadn’t even realized one thing.

Darnath knew and he remembered.

While Jack was asleep, the Knight had poured over the countless diaries and journals the dragon kept, such a vast, extensive, and meticulous library of Jackary’s life story, his knowledge and memories were written in those pages, ones that Jack would never read himself. How could he read something in his own penmanship that he wouldn’t have remembered? It was far too upsetting.

The only thing the Dragonsworn could do was squeeze the hand firmly within his own, turning his attention toward the blond. Jack glanced back in return and smiled, blissful in his ignorance. The dragon even leaned over to nuzzle his cheek at Darnath’s, transferring his scent to his Knight, contentedly so.

“Still, thank you for coming with me, it means a lot.” A soft voice chirped, nearly silenced by a thieving kiss from the demon’s lips.

“Always.” A simple answer, an answer that Darnath often used and Jack took for granted. Though in the gloom realization, the Dragonsworn took the time to think it over - he had recalled reading something about Lokitan, many-a-thing in a particular book. Musing the thought over, Darnath made a mental note to find it later and skim back over the pages. If Jackary couldn’t remember the most pivotal moments of his life, Darnath would remember them for him. That would be his ball and chain.

It had been two weeks before the wedding and it was to be the last time Jackary and Darnath would ever see that grave again.

Just like Jack’s memories, so too would the Tree and grave burn and fade from life.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - @darnath - |

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-17 Spellbinding/Disappointment

TW: Blood | Burns | Mild Body Mutilation

- [ MUSIC ] -

Once upon a time…

That’s how all great fantasy stories started, wasn’t it?

Once upon a time in a land far, far away at some indiscernible time. It was a time that Jackary had still been home, when he was young, barely reaching his first century of age. Wild and free and the most carefree of hearts. Trailing behind him wherever his feet touched left blooming flowers in his wake and in the air, his wings were the fastest in all of the land.

Beautiful. Powerful. Agile.

When the Emerald took to the sky there was none faster, none happier to soar. He was in a league all of his own. Dragons were greedy creatures with their own prized possessions that he held above life itself, and his were the translucent wings that gave him true freedom from responsibilities of being heir to a Kingdom he didn’t want to be a part of.

He and Lokitan were young and reckless, they wanted adventure, not the slavery that came with being princes or royalty or even avatars. Two teenagers wanting to play outside, dreaming through their imaginations until they were forced to return home. It was when they grew older that Jack flying through the air was a symbol of hope, a turning tide through battles of war. A beacon of peace and happiness.

Of joy.

“I want you to be my Soulsworn,” Lokitan spoke one night, out upon the balcony of his father’s black castle, forged from the embers of a volcanic mountain in ages past. He had been in on his second glass of wine, his own coronation of becoming a Prince of age and he was spending it with Jackary at his side, both happy and joyous through such a high caliber celebration.

“What? Really?” Jack mused and yet he puffed his chest, beaming with a sense of growing pride. To be a Soulsworn, a trusted Knight, a Kingsglaive, a Dragonsworn and protector… It was the highest rank and honour one of the Military could obtain. Jack should have had his own and yet he never bothered to bond. No one was worthy. Dragons weren’t meant to be Oathsworn to others of their kind but the pair didn’t care.

“Yeah, really,” Lokitan replied, turning to face the blond-haired elven form, staring up at the towering male with a curious gaze. There was but a single problem that came with taking on such a position… “But what would you put up as a sacrifice?”

“Easy, my wings,” Jackary beamed with confidence, glancing out across the breathtaking view of the valleys below, glittering with stardust from the chilled evening air. His attention drifted back to his cousin, fangs bared in his ever-charming, bright grin. “Why not?”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Loki couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You know that you lose whatever you give your oath on if you break it, right?”

“Are you saying that I would break my oath to you and forsake my wings? Never.”

“Alright then, your wings it is.”

That night, that happy, carefree night was so long ago.

Now, within the bowels of Blackrock Spire, upon one of the chained pillars dangling above the ever-churning lava, Jackary was hunched over and covered in sweat and ash. Blood dribbled down from a head wound, his body ached from the scratches and scuffs bleeding all over his form. Lokitan’s wish before he took Jackary to the tree and simply faded away was but one thing… He asked the Oath be upheld.

Protect them.

Guard them for me, as you did me.

You are my Soulsworn, even in death.

Standing before Jackary had been a Black Drake who had taken one of Lokitan’s so-called adopted family members hostage after he’d been mistreated. They were only in this position because the one who abused the power knew he could smugly get away with it. Jackary would always be there in a blink of an eye, summoned like a fighter into the ring to protect the snobby little brat. It was abuse.

It nearly cost Jack his life, but more importantly, the tiny wretch nearly cost someone else theirs to bail them out yet again. It had been that way for months, every other day the Sindorei cried wolf, picked fights where he simply summoned a dragon to bully those he did wrong into submission.

Pointless.

Jack was exhausted, pushed to the edge of madness, and without Lokitan there, he had begun to wonder just why he was still putting up with this. To stop would mean to lose what he so desperately cherished and yet…

“Help Jack... I’m uh... I’m hurt! This guy is going to kill me!”

The familiar voice, right on cue, echoed through the dragon’s brain, derailing the thoughts that he had been trying to keep to himself. The sound of disappointment, truly one person carried that entire weight. His very soul had given up, he was defeated, delirious, nothing was worth this sort of torture.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

“I revoke my oath…” He whispered, his voice barely carried over the link all that carried the mark of Chaoti shared, the pained words pushed through dried, cracked lips. He had barely had time to clean himself up from the battle the night before.

“What..?”

“I revoke my oath…” He said it again a bit louder, tilting his head up to the sky slowly as tears pushed out of the corners of his eyes, falling with little warning or care. “I revoke my Oath to Lokitan Chaoti, to the Chaoti Clan. I revoke my name and right to the crest.”

A sudden burning sensation erupted from his shoulder blades, causing Jackary to cry out from the sharp pain, lurching forward to try and brace himself for what was about to happen. This agony would be temporary, he had to tell himself that.

“I forsake my collateral…” In the final words, the hellfire skittered up those wonderful wings that flared out in an attempt to get away from the heat, burning through the membrane and skin, incinerating the bones, ligaments, and joints that carried the beast to any and all freedom he ever wanted. The pain was supposed to be temporary and even the fire that engulfed and destroyed part of himself cauterized the wounds on his back, leaving horrific scars down either side of his spine. The spellbinding chains that had once bound him to a fallen prince now released him without mercy.

The flame swallowed him whole.

His life flashed before his eyes, what few memories he retained, including the night he took the Oath. They melted away as too did his wings.

When the unbinding of his wings had been completed, the shadowy tendrils that made up his Chaoti sigil tattooed into his left forearm erupted, ripping right from the skin as if the skin were simply yanked free, causing another pained scream to rupture from his throat.

Everything went silent.

There, Jackary laid on his side, staring at his bloodied forearm where his family crest had been for thousands of years, covered in the ashes of what once made him the happiest beast to ever roam any galaxy. Everything hurt. His body, his soul, his pride, the guilt was so thick that he couldn’t even swallow to ease his dry throat.

The pain would only be temporary…

The pain would be temporary…

The pain…

Eyes closed in the silence, letting his entire body shut down out of shock until only soft breaths could be heard in the darkness he’d found himself in. Maybe he could have slept through this nightmare and awoken, maybe he could have rested…

Maybe it would have been temporary.

In the end, it never even mattered.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - |

[jackarychaoti]

DWC2021-27 Delicious/Blood.

Note: I have become super busy and was not able to finish DWC but I had this one mostly written, as it was an anticipated read to a question that's plagued Jack's circle of friends for years. I felt I should at least finish it and post it late.

- [MUSIC] -

TW: Domestic Violence | Abuse | Blood | Gore | Murder | Body Dismemberment | Body Horror | Graphic Violence | Torture | Blood Play | Raging Jealousy | Rape | Disassociation

As Jackary had snoozed in a mid-fall nap as per agreements he and his Knight had begun to work out in their attempts to rebuild their relationship, Darnath took it upon himself to pluck up the journal he had been searching for answers in. There had been something peculiar that he vaguely recalled being hinted at but now with mild curiosity to learn more about a person with who Jack once boasted Darnath would have gotten along with, what he found was possibly more than he bargained for.

Flipping the page, the demon settled down next to his sleeping dragon. It would be at least another few hours before Jack would awaken, a trick they had both learned that if the Emerald took ‘cat naps’, the travesty of his two-year sleep wouldn’t befall them again. It was during the naptime that Darnath poured over the words in the book until he turned the page and once more the writing had changed exponentially.

War.

War was a terrible thing, led by terrible people who sacrificed the many for a cause. Not always a great cause. In a world of four Kingdoms, the Heran army was the most powerful but not because of the devastation they could bring upon any land they descended, but because the General of the Army never harmed anyone.

Battles were won where both sides were healed at the end. Soldiers that died were left to sink into the ground and build a better world, a greener world. Their bodies would be soil and fertilizer, growing the vast forests that brought further life. Sacrifices were pure and made only when necessary and he who was in charge would never attack... Only heal his troops. Their survival rate was immaculate. He was never designed to bring harm, he never could.

Until her.

Weddings were often on purpose. There was love, sure, but we only truly mate once in our lives. When we find the one we choose, it may not be the one we married for profit or peace, but that bond eats us alive. Loyalties know no end. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he thought he had been mated to her.

They were joined for a political standpoint, uniting two of the four kingdoms in what was thinly veiled as a position of bringing peace and a joined sanction in case the powers of Chaos herself ever raised to where my father and Jackary’s mother could not contain her. Three kingdoms run by three siblings, the fourth merely existed, desiring to be within the sacred trinity of balance.

In truth, she married Jackary, not for his looks or ideals or any inkling of peace. She wanted the Heran army for herself, for what better to conquer the trinity than with the one faction that could not be stopped, nor slowed, nor denied? He did everything she demanded of him. It was a brutal marriage.

Oft my cousin would come to me, bruised or scratched but he was never apt to speak of it. She was a jealous wife, if his eyes so much lingered to any female for more than but a moment, her rage was undeniable. It didn’t help that his second in command was a woman. How he did it, I don’t know. I stopped asking questions though perhaps I should have continued to. Maybe if I had stepped up then that night wouldn’t have happened. That horrific evening. A night that will live on with me forever, a turning point where it all changed. Where something pure and wholesome twisted into something dark and frightened.

May her name never be written so she may be forgotten.

The words within the journal seemed to change ever so slightly as if a memory was etched into the pages, a spell of some sort… And then that was when Darnath realized where the lost memory had gone. What Lokitan had stolen away from Jackary to create the endless memory drip… It was hidden away in pages that Jack would never touch, Right in plain sight. The Demon paused briefly, fingers trailed down the page to grab the edge, and with hesitation… He turned it.

It was so vivid of a memory. She wanted him to put a rivaling land within its place, begging him with a story that they had insulted her and were unruly. As headstrong as Jackary was, she was his queen and he could never deny her. It was the morning after the treacherous woman had his second-in-command executed for merely being a woman, her ire and jealousy that Jackary should look at no one else but she had been made clear. It was hateful.

The war had gone smoothly, far more so than planned and with a victory under his belt, Jackary had rushed home, wanting to surprise the wretch with the news and a bouquet of her favourite lilles. What was more romantic than such a gift? Surely it would have pleased her to know he came home right away with the land she wanted, with the news she wanted. Every step through their castle fluttered Jackary’s heart in excitement. He wanted her approval, her attention. He lived to serve, as his species was meant for. An avatar of Life.

Slipping up to the door, a hand reached to coil around the knob and yet a soft sound came from behind it, causing his ears to raise. The audible echo paused his motions as again it sounded, a gentle, muffled moan of a woman purred from within. Jackary furrowed in confusion and knelt down silently, setting the flowers down to brace himself on hands and knees and so a bright peridot eye could peek in through the keyhole. Surely she wasn’t…

And there it was.

His wife, the woman who had slain his second-in-command and childhood friend for merely looking at Jackary in a sea of bodies, a writhing mass of male suitors, some even from the lands he’d conquered in her name. His mouth felt dry, his tongue unable to wet his lips as something hitched and got stuck in his throat. What was going on? Was he asleep? A particularly loud cry of pleasure caused the dragon to turn and sit next to the door, his back pressed against the wall as hands cupped his mouth. Eyes wide, tears wanted to fall. They couldn't.

‘Loki.’

He called silently for his cousin through their shared, bonded markings, a sort of communication device and while they were often good for long-distance speaking, the downfall had been that they could transmit their own emotions to one another.

It was a disturbance like nothing Lokitan had ever felt.

‘Jack? What’s--’

No, he didn’t have to even ask, he could feel Jackary’s chest on fire. The swelling anger and disbelief, the stages of grief hitting him all at once in a whirlwind of emotions and panic. Lokitan knew he needed to choose his words very carefully, for he’d never felt such a powerful, shaking ire come from his cousin ever before.

It was as if the Shadows transferred Lokitan within a blink of an eye to stand before Jackary who he found coiled up and gripping his head. The noises of the suitors and the wife made Lokitan pause for a moment. He, too, had his own boiling anger. All of the abuse she’d delivered to Jackary, strike after strike, the screaming, the verbal abuse, the mental torture, the killing of someone close to him. There he stood. The avatar of Death.

“What do you want me to do?”

‘I want…’

Jack heaved silently, his thoughts the only thing that could come through.

“Jack, I can’t do anything unless you tell me what you want…”

‘I want you to…’

“You need to say it, verbally…”

‘I want you to hurt her.’

“Jack…”

‘I want… I want you to hurt her.’

“Look at me… tell me what you want.’

‘I want…’

“I want to hurt her.”

Lokitan’s eyes widened at the confession and though he knew it was something a long time coming, his brows furrowed. Jackary’s breed was never meant to bring harm, they couldn't, it was a sacred rule. Such was the balance, Loki had wanted Jackary to give him the command, to serve as his right hand, and yet before he could do anything, twisting vines slithered free from under Jackary’s sitting position. The peaceful creature had made the first move, impatient and unwilling to swallow back his need any longer.

Loki backed up in surprise when the thorned tendrils slid under the door like snakes, the wide-eyed gaze Jackary held was hollow, lifeless. His mind had gone blank. For the first time in his life, it was Loki who felt a twinge of fear. The balance was shifting and not for the better.

“Jack…”

The sudden rupture of screams put something into motion that should have never done so. Lokitan should have stopped everything right then and there but he didn’t. Instead, fingers coiled around the discarded flowers to raise them and took a breath, opening the door wide open with a charming grin plastered on his face, eyes red as blood. “HONEY, we’re home!”

He should have stopped Jack. Why hadn't he?

Within the twisted ocean of bodies, he saw them all bound in the vines in a panic, unsure of what was going on and in the center of it all, naked as the day she was born, had been the woman behind all of it, crown still atop her head. Behind the short Shadow Dragon, Jackary raised to stand and though Loki couldn’t see the gaze they must have shared, by the look on her face, he could only imagine she was seeing a very horrifying reality.

Insanity was a corruption no one wished on anyone, but right then? Lokitan wanted it on her, not the wounded drake behind him.

“Well isn’t THIS a fine mess, planning sleepovers without us. Well, we wanted to drop by and surprise you with the good news that the North Kingdom is under your boot now, but ah…” Loki paused to glance over at a few familiar faces, indeed royalty of the land recently ravaged that morning. “It seems they already are."

“This… This isn’t what it looks like…” Stammering in her own surprise, she inhaled and soon her shocked demeanor changed. “They were trying to rape me! Wh-Where were you when I needed you to protect me!”

“One lie begets another…” Lokitan clicked his tongue, even if he could feel the coldness creeping up his spine from the twisted dragon being torn apart with every word that came out of her mouth. Fingers raised to silence Jackary who had inhaled to try and speak, the scent of the tears from his cousin overtook Lokitan’s senses.

“It seems that we are at an impasse here. Now that we’re here to save you, clearly, we have to consider several things. We could certainly chop the snake up, or we can slice the head off and end it in one quick blow.”

“Loki...” Jack swallowed, his head cloudy and uncertain what his cousin was planning. He wanted her to hurt and suffer but these people - did they deserve that? “If we harm her, the alliances and treaties…”

“What about them? Seems all of them are in here, allegedly raping your wife while you were out conquering their lands for her. We just kill them all, take the lands and end the petty squabbles.” Loki rolled a shoulder, glancing back at his cousin briefly until his gaze drifted towards the bound gathering.

“Don’t be ridiculous… Jadens don’t stick their noses in Heran affairs..!”

“Clearly, that’s why I’m standing on this side of the door and not in there with you. Now… Again... I ask you, what do you want me to do?” His vision flitted up to the taller elf-shaped avatar who seemed lost, hurt, and more importantly, turning darker by the second.

“I want her to suffer. I want her to hurt where she hurt me.”

Lokitan gave a nod, turning his attention back to the group. With a slowly creeping smile, jagged fangs revealed themselves, far more than he should have in a near Cheshire smirk. Arms raised upward in a shrug, finally breaching the threshold of the room to step in, flowers still in hand. “Then let’s start with emotionally, shall we?”

Tendrils of inky black darkness writhed out from Lokitan’s form, coiling around and yanking every man within the room there, one by one shredding limbs that were caught in the thorny vines, vines that were ironically from her favourite flower Jackary had brought home. Lokitan strolled through the gathering rain of blood, carrying each one in a single file, no matter how much they struggled to get free.

There was a well-known fear through the lands, the very world shook and trembled at the ire of a scorned dragon of Jade, for the Jaden beasts were bred for nothing but torture and war in the most brutal of manners. Lokitan certainly lived up to his father’s reputation.

One by one, above the large porcelain bathtub, the shadows decapitated every man that had laid their hand upon the queen still bound in the other room. Drained like cattle, the process was grueling, each scream muffled by a thump of heads hitting the tile floors. The process was agonizing to listen to, how each and every one fell to the same torture. Beheaded, blood drained into the gathering crimson bath below, each scream was another that drove tears to the wife’s eyes.

Jackary stood in the doorway, eyes still locked with the woman he’d sworn himself to. Once more, ears were back, bruises still visible from where her hand had touched him and not out of love. Flickers of silver brushed through the wounded peridot as he inwardly struggled and yet silently counted just how many heads he heard hitting the ground. Nearly a hundred. She smelled of them all.

“Jackary, please… We can talk this over..!” Her words pleaded in a sickenly sweet tone, fake and shallow in emotions beyond self-preservation.

“Shut up…” Jack sniffled but he wouldn’t continue to cry. He couldn’t. Not anymore “You killed Marle for looking at me while I was briefing her on your war and then you brought in all of them behind my back, into my bed while I was off claiming their lands for you.” It sounded even more ridiculous when he finally managed to say it out loud.

That was when the last thud was heard and Lokitan stepped back out to the pair, soaked in the splatter but the deep crimson on his body was nothing compared to the fiery glow within his eyes. “If you’re done trying to tell my cousin your final sob story, I’ve drawn you a bath.”

Out of respect, he did turn to Jack to look the taller figure over, waiting for him to give the word. In the midst of the beginnings of her pleas, Jackary swallowed hard, feeling something deep within his heart go numb. He was still in disbelief, mixing somewhere between shock and anger, bargaining with himself that this couldn’t be happening.

And yet he wanted her to hurt.

“I want her to suffer as she has made me suffer…” Jack repeated again, clarifying the ill-will intent that none of his species had ever given into before him… Save one. Nothing was known about Jackary’s father, he had been erased from history, snuffed out as if never existed and it would only be too soon before Lokitan would ever know why.

“Well then, let’s start with where she’s put her hands on you.” Again, the shadows yanked her from the thorny vines as the others had suffered but not without assuring that the spikes wouldn’t scratch up her skin. No, Loki wanted her whole. Turning, he stepped back into the bathroom, his own shadows dragged the woman in with him until she was held next to the tub of still steaming hot blood. The floors were slick with the mess, entrails and body parts were strewn around carelessly as if the beast had taken his time in assuring that nothing was pleasant in anyone’s death.

That was when he turned to the beauty of the beast before him, smiling in a toothy smirk. “Delicious is a word I would use for this moment… I’ve wanted to do this for so long. You see, every place that you have touched and harmed him, I’m going to do the same to you… And this is how.” Speaking with a calm, collected voice, his sharpened claw raised to drag her cheek, skinning down to the muscle and yet the touch radiated so much heat that it cauterized the missing flesh to stop any sort of bleeding from happening.

Her screams were simply music to his ears.

Painstaking was the task of slowly carving every layer of skin free from the woman’s entire body, not a single inch of dignity left on her, scalped and all. Every tear she cried, every scream of agony delighted Lokitan further and yet he couldn’t realize at that moment that sitting in the doorway, watching his cousin work was the shaken emerald beast, falling more and more hollow with each passing second. The darkness was brewing.

Jackary felt sick, not because of the view of Loki skinning his wife alive, but because he was enjoying it. He was watching her suffer in all the ways she’d made him feel for nearly a thousand years of marriage. One thousand years of torture and abuse, every inch of his body marred by her hand in some form of another and there it was, being paid back in the most horrific manner one could possibly think of.

“There, now that you’re all undressed, let’s get you in the bath.” By now, the mixture of blood had lost its heat and had cooled, chilled from the frigid air around them. Everything hurt to be touched, so Lokitan made sure to snag the bare tendons and muscles, even the bones with ferocity in order to sit the woman down into the bathtub, a literal bloodbath of her crimes.

“There, see? Nice and relaxing,” Lokitan’s tone had grown dark over the course of the hours it had taken to exact every inch of flesh and the worst part had been he did so in order to assure she wouldn’t bleed out. Oh no, she deserved a far larger fate.

“Do you remember when you got angry, oh… I’d say a good eighty some odd years or so ago and you struck him so hard with your scepter it nearly ruptured his eye?” Lokitan cooed sweetly, glancing over at Jackary who simply looked numb. Content.

His claw trailed along her seared cheek to her left eye socket, ignoring her plights to stop and when she tried to lash out, those tendrils only tightened further, binding her to stay in the tub and unable to pull away. The tip danced against the bloodshot orb resting so neatly in its socket until the curve of his nail followed the sphere, applying pressure, mindful not to rupture the rather stable and sturdy organ.

“No! NONONO! PLEASE DON’T!” It was the last thing she said before the pressure in her socket was enough to bulge the eye free, finally popping it out of place to dangle just outside of the protective skull. His finger pulled back, assuring the optic nerves remained intact and after a moment, her screams muffled into sounds of being sick.

Vertigo and inability to fix her vision had begun to make her sick, the dry heaving noises were enough to allow Lokitan to finally stand up, wiping his finger upon his dress slacks absently. The psychotic creature even took a moment to fish out a bloodied pack of cigarettes to light one for himself, stepping over to stand near Jackary and admire the massacre masterpiece he had created.

The retching noise echoed again and soon the vomit flooded from her lips, that instant acidity of her stomach contents on the open wounds like daggers. While it was initially slightly shocking, there was a horror that was coming out of it when the bile drizzled down her chest.

“According to studies, it takes roughly two days for stomach bile and acid to digest meat… So luckily in two days' time, you’ll either be dead or have an acidic hole in your chest where your heart should be.” Lokitan glanced at his cigarette a moment, taking in a drag. “Your little eye problem will assure that you’ll stay nice and sick until then.”

The shrill of her cries fell upon deaf ears as Lokitan turned his attention down to Jackary who had curled up against the wall, covered in the blood on the ground and where he had smeared it on himself by trying to hide his face. Arms hugged his knees close, hollowed eyes still wide. A shocked expression, one that was a suffering man attempting to come to terms with what had just happened. He’d harmed someone for the first time with thorns, but not just any thorns.

“If it makes you feel better, the men didn’t suffer. The barbs you cut them with had already made them numb to the pain…” Lokitan whispered in an attempt to soothe his cousin from the horrors of life that he was facing. But it was too late, the damage was done. The small spiral of silver had started to overtake those pretty eyes, the cigarette dropped to the floor once it was seen.

“Hey… Stay with me, Jack. Look at me… Stay with me -- you didn’t hurt--”

But that was where the entry cut off and the memory ended, ripped and torn away from the pages as it had been yanked from the dragon’s mind. Darnath took a moment to close the journal, staring at the cover to mull over what he had just witnessed and read. His attention turned to the dragon who remained blissfully unaware that the plug to stop his memory loss was right there... And yet how could anyone in their right mind want to put that awful tragedy back into his skull? To what? Allow him to keep his memories at such a cost?

A hand moved to brush along the dragon’s snout, tracing up the scarred nose and to a cracked horn, doting on it until that bell was rung. A familiar alarm clock that soon stirred the beast from his comfortable dream with a yawn and a lazy sigh of comfort, content to wake again. A happy purr sounded, truly a wonderful, sweet noise.

| - @daily-writing-challenge - @darnath - |

[jackarychaoti]

Home: A Family In Need.

“I can smell that candy on your breath from over here.” 

The voice chimed in from the shadows out of nowhere, seemingly surrounding what had been the pudged up blond who had still been licking a bit of taffy that was stubbornly stuck within a fang. Jack paused the futile attempts to wedge the gooey treat free and glanced around, ears perked in alert.

As a mystical feline of a far off book would have done, shadows evaporated from a figure that had rested himself within the doorway, arms folded over tight leathers and adorned weaponry. The crimson hue peered at Jack with a collected gaze, his face still forever hidden behind long bangs and a damaged mask.

“Kit!” Jack all but squeaked in excitement, dropping the bucket of candy that had been resting on his lap, wrappers everywhere around him. He hadn’t even taken Darnath’s warnings in not eating too much candy and inwardly he knew he would regret it -- but not for the moment!

Upon the nickname used, Lokitan nodded his head lightly in greeting, letting dark lashes fall over the reddened eye. “You must have been out Trick or Treating, hn?”

“Dar took me! It was a lot of fun, stole a lot of candy, some people even turned us into little cursed creatures while we were trying to run away. Care for some?”

“You know I don’t eat sweets...” The Rogue ever so subtly shifted his frame, but it was enough to keep the Mage’s attention completely. “Still a kid at heart, you’ll never grow up, hn?”

“Well... Not on Halloween or Christmas, no. If you keep being this serious all the time, you’re going to die before you even hit four.”

“Three is enough... I can barely stomach the idea of nine.” The shadowed dragon that still continued to watch smirked faintly and shook his head -- the hand that was nothing more than infinite-coloured claws waved Jackary off in a teasing fashion. “Eternity is simply not my thing anymore.”

Jackary stared for a long moment, the words allowed his decorated audits to fall back in thought. Lips parted, wanting to say something, but he pursed his lips instead, wetting them to stall. “Something’s on your mind.... You don’t ever venture out of your War Table unless you’re on an issued mission or something is wrong.”

Caught red-handed, Lokitan blinked briefly, lofting his pierced brow before a soft sigh escaped. His body even slouched against the door frame. “Never could keep anything from you, hn?”

“Is this about your ex?” Straight to the point, the Mage shifted almost uncomfortably at the topic, for what good as he at relationship advice? “I saw him in Silvermoon.. I mean I know you got my letter, but have you, like... y’know... Seen him?”

“Mm....” Loki’s attention lowered to the floor a moment to gather his thoughts, even daring to chew absently at the scar along his hidden lip.The smaller male found himself doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with the Emerald across the room.

Jack wilted further upon watching the quiet male, daring to finally take a few steps towards him. “Oh, Kit...” What else was he to do? What else could he say? The dragon stopped near his cousin, refusing to touch him just yet as hands rubbed together, fidgeting at the awkward tension suddenly filling his home.

Lokitan was quick to shake his head, refusing to lift his gaze in quiet fear that the hurt feeling that twisted his stomach would show in the thin-slitted hues. “It’s fine.”

“Not if you’re showing up at my house at three in the morning.”

“It’s different now, Jack. We’re both different... Not the same foolish drakes we used to be. He’s got his own concerns, I have my own damned army to--”

“Stop.” Jack narrowed his eye and reached over, finally snagging the tiny Rogue firmly into his arms. Nuzzling at his family, more so atop the dark locks of hair, a faint whimper dared to escape. “Have you told him?”

“No,” came the soft answer from the normally stoic man. Arms finally lifted to hug firmly onto the taller dragon, allowing Loki to simply hide against Jack’s chest. “I’m not sure I can...”

Jack frowned a bit more, nodding lightly before hands began to soothe along the familiar leather of his cousin. “I understand... Well uh! We have a guest bedroom, if you like? I’m sure Dar ‘n Az wouldn’t mind you staying the night?”

There was no answer for the moment, instead all Loki could give was a small nod. It had been along time since Jack had babied his younger cousin or taken care of him and it had likely been a sight to see him coddle a male over a foot shorter than he was.

“Mm! I can force-feed you candy!”

“That’s disgusting.”

[jackarychaoti]

Dear Jack,

You never came to get your dumb bird from the Garrison, so I’m taking it to places it shouldn’t be.

- Loki.

[jackarychaoti]

Dear Jack,

You left your dumb bird in the Garrison again. Retrieve it.

- Loki

[jackarychaoti]

*_* Wyndmeer

Camping was always something that Jack enjoyed and going with friends and family was even more exciting because it meant a lot of good memories to be had. Somehow, he’d managed to convince his cousins and the pup of the family onto a camping expedition into Draenor, if only for the weekend. Two small tents and four people, Jack knew that Aeli would have fought tooth and nail to be able to stay close to Loki for the weekend and Jackary happily obliged, having always been very fond of Wynd since the first time they met.

The evening hour was late and Jack hadn’t paid attention when he was cuddled up under the blankets, the cold rain outside dropped the temperatures considerably, in which all three dragons were simply not having the best of time with. The burst of cold air caused his eyes to slowly open when the covers were lifted, but when a warm frame pressed to his own, the body heat of the two males was quick to rewarm the blankets they shared with. Bare flesh against his own didn’t phase the elder dragon whatsoever. he’d helped heal and baby the younger male before, scales and skin weren’t much different in some aspects.

[jackarychaoti]

The Captain.

Staring out into the void darkness of the sky, the Mage sat alone with a bottle of wine and a half pack of cigarettes. He hadn’t smoked in a while, yet tonight seemed needy of the toxins to soothe his mind. It had been nerve-wracking enough to approach Gentil and explain to him that Jack’s life was about to change drastically, but shortly after explaining to the Priest that Azurick and Darnath seemed standoffish and not wanting anything to do with the dragon anymore, Dar had whispered their typical notions of what they considered ‘love’ to each other. Not something anyone else would take correctly, but when Azurick also spoke to him for a brief amount of time, Jack became conflicted.

He was confused, baffled that so many things had changed so drastically and he couldn’t seem to grasp ahold of anything anymore. He didn’t understand mortals, it was clear as day.

“Copper for your thoughts...” a deep voice rumbled from the surrounding night, causing Jackary to come back to life and flick his cigarette, ashing away the burned remains.

“Just lost in them, as usual.” Jack admitted, pulling the cigarette to his mouth to take a slow, steady drag. “What brings the great and powerful Lokitan to my humble presence?” he teased, flitting his vision to finally face the Rogue within the doorway.

“Antulien came into the Garrison screaming like a madman about you sailing off through the seas with a blind pirate.”

“Captain,” Jack corrected, exhaling the rest of the smoke. “Blind Captain.”

“... Even worse.” A sigh escaped the masked lips while the lithe frame leaned against the doorway, one leg crossed over the other in a casual stance, comfortable in his own positioning. “Is something wrong, Jack? I know you’re spontaneous, but even this is left field.”

“I wanted a new aspect of my life, tired of being a city pet. I missed the adventures of being outside, the excitement of going into the unknown with a team.”

“Why did you pick him, then? Why a man who cannot see the sea?”

Jackary thought about the question for a long moment, wetting his lips smoothly until a sip of the wine was taken from the short glass clasped within his fingertips. “Do you honestly want to know why I chose him out of all of the Pirate Captains I met in a single night?”

“Entertain me with the answer, hn..?”

“You see, Kit...” Jackary sat up slowly, setting the wine down only to ash his cigarette again. “When they were all having their squabbles  instead of working together, I watched how all of them acted and reacted towards each other. This guy walked away from the bullshit, he didn’t want the drama of getting himself or his crew involved in a sudden trial.”

The cigarette was put to his lips again before it was delicately placed between them, allowing it to bounce with each word he spoke after. “They took several cheap shots at the man. His vision, or lack thereof... his crew, his boat, his debt... And do you know what he did?”

“Kill them all and won a dragon over out of awkward chivalry?”

“He didn’t do shit.” came an exhale that bellowed with a breath of smoke. “He brushed it off as if it was nothing, as if they were nothing. When the others insulted each other, it riled them up but this Captain? He wouldn’t take it. All things considering, you’d think he’d be at a handicap, especially his situation with his odd vision... But he can still see, he can still sense it. He didn’t fall into a greedy, petty fight because a bunch of others of his same rank took a few cheap shots at his expense.”

Staring at Jack for a long moment, Loki allowed himself to process the logic that was filling his head and with a sigh, his head shook slowly. “That’s it? Really? A man gets insulted and walks away, winning a dragon because of it?”

“Who better of a Captain deserves something like you and me on his crew than the man who can’t see what I am and who isn’t petty enough to be dragged into worthless fights? What better gift does the sea give than a dragon to the Captain that deserves such a seeing eye dog? I thought he handled himself beautifully, so I spoke to him and now here we are. He had a vague idea of what I am thanks to his lil’ bag-o-bones Kurtis and he didn’t turn me away. Neither of them did... I’m sure they likely have their reservations, it’s only to be expected.”

“... You’re honestly going to defend a Pirate Captain.”

“The ship’s mine,” Jack teased, only half-assed jokingly considering the down payment that was placed to start the crew at an even amount. “In all reality, maybe I just miss serving someone... Or maybe I’ve found someone who may be worth it. Time will tell.” finally relinquishing the cigarette, it was pushed down into the ground firmly, snuffing out the last of the burning embers.

“Time, hn?”

“You see a man’s true colours during the worst of a situation. He may think that I have to prove myself, my usefulness and my loyalties to him, but I don’t think he realizes that day after tomorrow? He proves that he deserves an Emerald under his command.”

| - kurel-andiel - |

[jackarychaoti]

The house had been quiet, but within the night, the lights had been aglow, lighting up the nest Gentil had created for Jackary. Within it there had been four figures sitting around, guitars in hand of two, another was toying with the piano that had made it’s way into the beautiful surroundings. 

Fireflies were swirling around, crickets chirping ever so sweetly and as the laughter of four males escaped, they all began to quiet down, lowering their voices. It was a perfect evening, warm and sweet in the scent of spring.

“Okay, okay.” Aeredyn grinned, motioning. “Let’s hear the new damn song, Jack.” he chirped.

“I’m not singing this one,” Lokitan remarked lazily, leaning back against a pillow while he continued to idly strum the guitar that was within his lap. “Especially if it’s a love song. I never signed up to be a lead singer of this weird boy band.”

“Buh... I mean what... I didn’t write a new song,” Jack huffed, cheeks puffed while he continued to tune his own guitar carelessly.

“Don’t fuck with me man, I saw the sheet music near the piano.”

“Just because you prefer drums doesn’t mean we haven’t heard you sing before, idiot.” Zaer replied smoothly, sitting at the bench of the piano. For such a threatening Warrior, to see him at an elegant instrument almost seemed quite off.

“Seriously, bro,” Aero coaxed again, grinning while he slouched further. “Come on, you should do it. Just once. Sing one song, I want to hear.”

“But I---” Jack stammered, cheeks reddening.

“Aero hasn’t heard you sing, hn?” Loki questioned, lofting his pierced eyebrow at the others, strumming a single chord to assure the guitar was set before it was returned to it’s rightful owner. Even as Aeredyn took it, the Paladin shook his head in confirmation towards the Rogue.

Jackary puffed his cheeks and glanced down at the guitar in his own hands, idly strumming a few chords ever so gracefully. The blush formed over his face, but he wet his lips, swallowing hard. With a slow inhale, Jack’s eyes closed to calm himself, the voice that escaped seemed to almost echo sweetly.

“Heart beats fast, colors and promises...”

Falling quiet, Loki, Aero and Zaer watched in disbelief and for as long as Zaer and Loki had known Jackary, even they seemed breathless, speechless from the tune. They watched the Mage sway in the beat he was strumming, the song carried out and into the house.

He was unaware if his full blown voice and volume could have been heard from the windows so close to his nest and the tree he often climbed into, if only to wave to Gentil once in a great while. He had been quite passionate about music and when singing, Jack always lost himself to the rhythm. It was enough to raise the hairs along the occupant’s skin, for it had become obvious just who it was written for.

| - gentilwebb - |

[jackarychaoti]

The Duo.

Sunlight glimmered through the pines, casting the rays within the morning beauty of the world. The storm from the previous evening was long since gone and the birds chirped, welcoming the dew droplets that fell from the leaves and blades of grass. The warmth of the sun glistened over Jackary's face, fluttering lashes to finally respond from the deadened slumber he had fallen into. When those optics opened, peridot stared up at the clouds above, hazy as to where he was and how he had come to be.

"Looks like the little champ's awake," came a voice, laced with a chuckle.

"Funny, I assure you. At least he's not dead, the boss would have our head." came the second voice, followed by the ruffling noise of approaching figures.

When Jackary winced from the silhouettes of two elvish creatures looking over him, he warily began to register just who it could have been. A hand attempted to lift itself, but the Mage's gaze was drawn to the bandage wrapped along the knuckles.

"Damn, look at him, dude. He's all sorts of fucked up! Heeeeeey Jackalope, ya dead, bro?" one called out again, grinning when the Emerald seemed to finally come around.

"Give him some damned space, idiot." the second voice replied again, however the figures finally came into view from the angle both males stood in over the groggy Mage.

"Come on, Zaer. You're thankful he's alive. Jaaaaaaaaaaack! Welcome back to the world of the living."

"Thankful because now Lokitan won't have our heads for not being able to find him, Aeredyn."

Pushing himself slowly to sit up, Jackary winced, gripping towards his side with a faint noise of displeasure. "Zaerathian..? Aeredyn? The hell you two doing here..?" He grumbled, slouching to ease the tension along his frame.

"Saving your sorry ass, it seems." Zaer remarked smoothly, well sculpted arms folded in the process, taking on his ever cold demeanor.

"Loki told us to come find you, must have been something serious if he made both of us look, dude." Aero grinned, resting a hand on his plated hip. "Found ya out here by your lonesome, all conked out and everything. We weren't sure if you were dead or not from all that blood, honestly."

Jackary gazed himself over carefully, each wound cleaned to the best of a Paladin and a Warrior's abilities, especially considering the Light user was fairly shoddy at using any type of healing spell whatsoever. Each cut was sewn shut, his leg wrapped with fresh bandages and upon his face came to rest the stitched cut against his cheek.

"Sorry about your face, man. We tried our hardest to make sure all the wounds were closed." Aero admitted, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

"Indeed," Zaerathian interjected, showing no hint of emotion or sign of wonder. "You should be alright now, though. At least you're awake."

"Right?" Jack murmured, barely brushing his fingertips over the stitched cheek in a curious way. "Saved my scaly ass... Thanks guys."

"No problem!"

"You're welcome."

[jackarychaoti]

The Heat.

The night had been long and hard, one event lead to another until Jack found himself within familiar, desired company. The air was cool around the two figures while he gazed down at the smaller form... Their eyes met. Jackary's ear twitched when his companion spoke, a soft 'please' left their lips, which dilated the dragon's eyes from such a heated command.

Hours had gone by and with little foreplay, Jackary was hunched over, struggling for any type of breath his burning chest would accept in offering. Lips stayed parted, igniting the cold air into heat the moment it was pulled in by strained lungs. Each panting groan of frustration exhaled lingered in the cold air of the Ridge around them.

"Harder, Jack..."

Fangs bared at the voice in which he pushed forward even more, his muscles writhed and flexed in perfect rhythm, the flawless design of any person's male fantasy. The toned frame rocked, driving forward with slow, hard presses of his form. The tanned, bare skin glistened within the night's moon-touched light, small beads of sweat trickled down every curve of his body. He could barely control his sore, heated soul anymore.

"That's it! Harder, Jack! Harder!"

The voice forced Jackary's eyes to tightly close from the sting of salty sweat gathering upon his brow, a droplet slid down the very bridge of his nose and fell upon the flesh below. His hair was soaked, naturally spiked with sweat of being grabbed and pushed back; tendrils of it still stuck to the frame of his face.

"I can't... Hold on much longer..!" The Mage's voice strained through failing vocals, arching his body to buck his lower pelvis further, delving all of his hidden weight into it. Skin reddened from the clash of working heat and the frozen snow that drifted down upon the nude skin, the most muffled of groans finally escaped through clenched, bared fangs.

"Almost there!"

A whine of defiance escaped Jackary's throat, the guttural noise drove him to push even harder. The blond tilted his head back slightly with a loud yell, the near roar echoed along the snow-laced rocks, sounding out his struggles. "Come on.... Come on come on baby, just a bit more..." He hissed under his breath, offering another rough buck of his entire frame forward. The friction of resistance was almost too much to handle.

"YES! RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!"

With a sigh of wilted relief, Jack sank down from his hunched position and slumped into the snow below, his back pressed hard to the mass of rock he had just helped push half way across the damned Garrison. His scarred forearm lifted to wipe along his brow, the sweat gathered further and puddled down his skin, muscles pulsed in a quiet appreciation for no longer being forced to be used, welcoming the relaxation.

A small figure hopped down from the perch he had been on and soon sat next to the Mage, Lokitan glanced up at his cousin with a hidden smirk. "Thanks." He remarked, resting himself against the jagged mass behind him.

"You called me... All the way... To fuckin' Frostfire.... To move a rock?!" He panted, whining at his cousin in the most pathetic of manners. The silver-clasped ear wilted in disbelief, however once he looked around the Garrison a moment to assure how much more room the boulder gave them and all the new protection of the dragon's lair had, he could somewhat understand.

"Yeah, you've got the most muscle of the family, Jackalope." Loki admitted, lifting a set of talons to pat them ever so sweetly on a bare shoulder, assuring not to touch anywhere near the blazing scars that remained littered against the Emerald's back. "You seem like you got a lot on your mind, though. Unless you're just gettin' flabby from all those cupcakes you've been puttin' away, hn?"

"I'm not getting fat, you dick." Jack mumbled again, finally swaying a hand up with little effort to highfive the Rogue in a half-assed, limp manner.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Sure."

[jackarychaoti]

LOKITAN HAS A FACECLAIM???

[OFFS.]

[jackarychaoti]

"Jackary? He was married once. If I recall, they did quite a bit of exotic things together before she gave into Insanity. Like hell if he'd ever admit what really got him off." - Lokitan Chaoti