[center][h1][color=crimson]ƊЄƧMƠƝƊ[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=crimson][i]It hurts...[/i][/color]

The black flame that encased his body and had saved his life...was now killing him. It felt as though his flesh was being seared off at the bone at the moment and he could do nothing.

[color=crimson][i]It hurts..[/i][/color]

[color=bc8dbf]"Don't make this hard on yourself kid, just surrender and we'll make it end."[/color] The voice of a fallen angel, the one who currently had him trapped along with two of his minions, offered a pointless pity.

[color=crimson][i]It hurts.[/i][/color]

Desmond stared blankly at the trio. He had just fought the hardest battle of his life and still lost. Death was coming, this Desmond knew. The wounds he suffered from his father weren't healing quick enough and this forsaken flame was tearing him apart from the inside out. They wanted a sacred gear from him but he did not possess such a thing, if he had maybe he would have won against his father. A vicious, beast-like glare erupted as his black flame's aura exploded

[color=crimson][i]"IT FUCKING HURTS YOU PRICKS![/i][/color] He screamed at the top of his lungs ready to attack, only to be silenced immediately as a dark blade pierced his back. A terrified look shown in Desmond's face as he look back to see the bloodied face of his father, grinning smugly as the blade was pushed deeper in.

================

Desmond lurched forwards from his bed, sweat beating down the sides of his temple as he breathed heavily. A nightmare. One that had been real not too long ago except for his father stabbing him in the back...at least literally. Both hands moved down the center of his face, stretching skin in a hopes to get rid of some of the grogginess. Sleeping made him feel vulnerable and was the one feeling he hated the most, however at least here he had allies. This hatred...this fear of sleep shown in the dark pits of his eyes, giving him an already unfriendly look atop of his near expressionless face.

The water simply rushed over the top of his head as he stood in the shower, the intense heat removing any remaining fatigue. Desmond took a good look in the mirror at his bare, scarred chest and scowled. He hated it so he quickly got changed into his signature look. A long black trench-coat, black military pants, and a plain black T-shirt underneath. Despite Alice being aware of his scars, he still didn't like them being on display for people to see. Desmond walked into the main room of the Student Government building, where members of his household were congregating. Alphonse, Alice's queen and personal butler it seemed. A kind man most of the time and downright terrifying any other. Baradiel, Alice's bishop and adopted uncle/advisor. His relaxed attitude got on Desmond's nerves sometimes but he otherwise respected the man. Finally and not least of all, Alice. The one who gave him a new purpose [color=crimson]"Good Morning, my lady."[/color] He spoke with a clear tone of respect that faded slightly as he addressed the two others [color=crimson]"Baradiel. Alphonse."[/color] The gift of small talk was not one he possessed being that friendship was a privilege he had never known. Regardless of what path Alice went down, as her knight he would follow her to the end.

The smell of coffee immediately grabbed his attention, he could certainly use a cup with the night he had.