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Sugar Rocker
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A flash of annoyance passed through Frey's eyes as Asbel refused to eat it. He paused, as if he had no idea what to do, but the expression lasted less than a split second. Then, he chuckled. It wasn't the happy, light, fluttery kind of laughter he emmited when his plans were successful. No, this was a much more sinister laughter that only forewarned disaster. Whenever he laughed like that, eyes glittering with even more malice than usual, most people were smart enough to run.
"You're right." He said in a dangerously soft voice, hurling the toxic fruit behind him and putting both hands Behring his head in a relaxed position. The prince may not have the golden looks of his siblings, but he was really handsome. It was just a rebellious, evil, mischievous kind of handsome. The same way someone might find a vampire or demon attractive.
Frey seemed to be alright. Not minding at all that Asbel foiled his plan. Then, it began, first like a dribble. "Of course you wouldn't be hungry. I mean look at you. Look around you." He accused, gesturing around the amazing room to prove his point.
"I don't understand why we keep you around." He spat, rocking on his heels. Oh, how he yearned for someone to react to what he said. It was irrelevant that they would have negative emotions, and reactions.
Frey, despite being raised the same way as his siblings, had a twisted philosophy. At one point, he was a nihilist, claiming he was the only real person and everyone else was a dream. Currently, he didn't see the point in being kind. You didn't receive anything special.
"You know, you're just a-" Before he could finish speaking, the castle sorcerer burst into the room. "Ew." Frey huffed cruelly. The man took a deep breath through his nose. A lot of people did that around him, he realized.
The sorcerer was a middle-aged man with whiskers and eyes Frey didn't trust. Sometimes that prince would fantasize about being a hero, and the towering sorcerer would always be the villain. At least in his imagination. "Your highness! What do you think you are doing?"
Thinking quickly, Frey looped his arms around Asbel in a warm, touching way. It was time to act like the angel foreigners thought he was. "Just an amazing creature." He said in a most sincere way. The sorcerer's expression softened only a bit, he knew Frey was up to no good.
"You're right." He said in a dangerously soft voice, hurling the toxic fruit behind him and putting both hands Behring his head in a relaxed position. The prince may not have the golden looks of his siblings, but he was really handsome. It was just a rebellious, evil, mischievous kind of handsome. The same way someone might find a vampire or demon attractive.
Frey seemed to be alright. Not minding at all that Asbel foiled his plan. Then, it began, first like a dribble. "Of course you wouldn't be hungry. I mean look at you. Look around you." He accused, gesturing around the amazing room to prove his point.
"I don't understand why we keep you around." He spat, rocking on his heels. Oh, how he yearned for someone to react to what he said. It was irrelevant that they would have negative emotions, and reactions.
Frey, despite being raised the same way as his siblings, had a twisted philosophy. At one point, he was a nihilist, claiming he was the only real person and everyone else was a dream. Currently, he didn't see the point in being kind. You didn't receive anything special.
"You know, you're just a-" Before he could finish speaking, the castle sorcerer burst into the room. "Ew." Frey huffed cruelly. The man took a deep breath through his nose. A lot of people did that around him, he realized.
The sorcerer was a middle-aged man with whiskers and eyes Frey didn't trust. Sometimes that prince would fantasize about being a hero, and the towering sorcerer would always be the villain. At least in his imagination. "Your highness! What do you think you are doing?"
Thinking quickly, Frey looped his arms around Asbel in a warm, touching way. It was time to act like the angel foreigners thought he was. "Just an amazing creature." He said in a most sincere way. The sorcerer's expression softened only a bit, he knew Frey was up to no good.
Sorry! Schoolwork and whatnot.
Ferris nodded in an imitation of understanding. "M-hm." He murmured as grey eyes flashed and flickered with confusion. Rokea... the word had no emotions tied to it. As much as he would like to, the merman had no idea what his captor was speaking of in the slightest. From the way Runs was acting, Ferris determined the other believed that he was important. "What do you need help w- Ahh!"
Suddenly, the world around them shook and clank and felt like it would fall apart. Loud mechanical noises could be heard and an unholy wailing as well. What he didn't realize was that the oat had reached shore.
Suddenly, the world around them shook and clank and felt like it would fall apart. Loud mechanical noises could be heard and an unholy wailing as well. What he didn't realize was that the oat had reached shore.
Oh, alright then. I just wanted you to know I don't drop rps, I'm just slow sometimes.
Harp narrowed his eyes every so slightly. "That's..." Luring humans in and draining them of their life. There were so many things wrong with that, it almost made him sick. Then he reminded himself that Darri was, after all a demon. It didn't justify things, but it did make him stop and realize their morals were very different. Truthfully speaking, intoxicating someone with a love arrow was probably much more sinful than simply eating the souls of humans. Deciding it wouldn't be a good idea to retort with anything snarky or critical, Harp simply nodded a bit hastily. "I see. That's very surprising to hear."
As he was implied that he was a plaything, the pink-eyed angel nodded. He didn't want to mislead the demon, but there was no way he was admitting that he was the one pulling the strings. Underneath all the purity that sugared his features, perhaps it was possible Harp's heart was as dark as any demon's. Or maybe he lacked a heart and soul altogether, as he said to Bel once. He made a mental note to play this game with Bel later.
"Me?" The cupid asked coyly, really getting into the game. He bit his lip. This lower demon wasn't worth his salt, more than likely. But he didn't want to take any chances. For all he knew, Bel could be the incarnation of the 'one' spirit, and Darri was only slightly weaker than an archangel! This was unlikely, but to the angel, by no means impossible. "I came here to blind eyes that had spent their whole lives in darkness with bright, bright starlight." The angel said vaguely.
He then smirked. "All right. Now it's my turn. Again." He laughed, probably enjoying this more than he should have been. "About Bel. Where can I-" He paused, then rephrased the question. "Is there any way to hide from him... forever?" But before any of them could speak, the doors burst open with a loud noise. The scent of the city gusted through the small, dangerous store and Harp covered his eyes as a few dust motes flew into them. He squinted into the setting sun that shone into the store. A strange, hooded figure was standing in the doorway. Bandages were wrapped around their hands, and their face was obscured. Immediately, Harp realized what the thing was. The line between the living and the dead. Not an angel nor demon, but .... "A reaper..." Harp murmured in awe.
As he was implied that he was a plaything, the pink-eyed angel nodded. He didn't want to mislead the demon, but there was no way he was admitting that he was the one pulling the strings. Underneath all the purity that sugared his features, perhaps it was possible Harp's heart was as dark as any demon's. Or maybe he lacked a heart and soul altogether, as he said to Bel once. He made a mental note to play this game with Bel later.
"Me?" The cupid asked coyly, really getting into the game. He bit his lip. This lower demon wasn't worth his salt, more than likely. But he didn't want to take any chances. For all he knew, Bel could be the incarnation of the 'one' spirit, and Darri was only slightly weaker than an archangel! This was unlikely, but to the angel, by no means impossible. "I came here to blind eyes that had spent their whole lives in darkness with bright, bright starlight." The angel said vaguely.
He then smirked. "All right. Now it's my turn. Again." He laughed, probably enjoying this more than he should have been. "About Bel. Where can I-" He paused, then rephrased the question. "Is there any way to hide from him... forever?" But before any of them could speak, the doors burst open with a loud noise. The scent of the city gusted through the small, dangerous store and Harp covered his eyes as a few dust motes flew into them. He squinted into the setting sun that shone into the store. A strange, hooded figure was standing in the doorway. Bandages were wrapped around their hands, and their face was obscured. Immediately, Harp realized what the thing was. The line between the living and the dead. Not an angel nor demon, but .... "A reaper..." Harp murmured in awe.
Letting out a frustrated yell at failing, Cyrus paused. He looked up as the lion ascended into the air, hiding some of the bright stars that he used to find his way across the desert. A pang of fear resounded against his heart, as he saw the beast's mouth curl up in a wicked smile. Clenching his fists and tightening his jaw, the prince was smart enough to walk backwards a bit. It was hard to keep a steady gaze against Ralarulash, but he managed to somehow.
There was no way he would show any weakness. However, he couldn't help the flinch that graced his features when the lion spoke. He had been expecting an attack, or maybe a ferocious roar that would shatter his eardrums and make blood gush out. Instead he was given a sly offer. The prince's golden eyes shone in the night like twin stars. It was a captivating offer, and if he was smart, he would take it. Freedom... As a prince, he had all the freedom he wanted. He couldn't imagine how a mere animal could take that away from him. Winged lions were once hunted by sorcerers and alchemists for their pelts and feathers, but Cyrus grit his teeth in irritation as he was called an alchemist. Didn't this animal know anything?
"Power, you say?" Cyrus said, held held high, despite the situation. He then glared fiercely. "I don't care what your so-called potent and powerful feathers can do, I only care for your feathers, Mr. Leon..." He said with a huff, crouching in a fighting stance. "Deals... They are for the weak, aren't they? You should have known by now..." He said, crouching even further to scoop a bunch of sand onto a muffler, which he promptly removed. Then, in one defiant motions, he flung it at the deity, spreading the sand all over and hopefully creating a makeshift smokescreen. Then he lunged once more, determined to grab at least once feather. But he had another plan...
Whenever he saw a desert avian take off, a feather would usually break off and the bird would grow new ones. So far, he hadn't seen a feather come out of Ralarulash's down, but he was determined to try. He had no right to kill the creature, and he knew it. Having a ruler who killed the land's true kings and queens would only rub the common people the wrong way. Not to mention the spirits.
There was no way he would show any weakness. However, he couldn't help the flinch that graced his features when the lion spoke. He had been expecting an attack, or maybe a ferocious roar that would shatter his eardrums and make blood gush out. Instead he was given a sly offer. The prince's golden eyes shone in the night like twin stars. It was a captivating offer, and if he was smart, he would take it. Freedom... As a prince, he had all the freedom he wanted. He couldn't imagine how a mere animal could take that away from him. Winged lions were once hunted by sorcerers and alchemists for their pelts and feathers, but Cyrus grit his teeth in irritation as he was called an alchemist. Didn't this animal know anything?
"Power, you say?" Cyrus said, held held high, despite the situation. He then glared fiercely. "I don't care what your so-called potent and powerful feathers can do, I only care for your feathers, Mr. Leon..." He said with a huff, crouching in a fighting stance. "Deals... They are for the weak, aren't they? You should have known by now..." He said, crouching even further to scoop a bunch of sand onto a muffler, which he promptly removed. Then, in one defiant motions, he flung it at the deity, spreading the sand all over and hopefully creating a makeshift smokescreen. Then he lunged once more, determined to grab at least once feather. But he had another plan...
Whenever he saw a desert avian take off, a feather would usually break off and the bird would grow new ones. So far, he hadn't seen a feather come out of Ralarulash's down, but he was determined to try. He had no right to kill the creature, and he knew it. Having a ruler who killed the land's true kings and queens would only rub the common people the wrong way. Not to mention the spirits.
...] Insert PM session [...
Skylark said nothing as Path picked him up and carried him away, back to the bedroom. He wiggled in the furs he was clothed in. Father was radiating a sort of forlorn sadness, and the child didn't understand. The grey-haired boy thought about pointing it out, but knew Father wouldn't like him to. There was no point in upsetting him any further. Though he hadn't snapped at him or anything like that, for some reason Skylark knew that Path was irritated. Or maybe... just sad. Eyes tearing up, the baby dragon suddenly leaped at the older dragon, not caring that Path was dizzy. He nuzzled his soft face into Path's chest. "Is Father okay?" He paused, then leapt up to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Father... You'll always have me." He said sweetly in a knowing, smiling voice.
However, Edge was not so happy. He felt alone. He felt... cold. Warm tears dripped down his cheeks as he sank lower into the goop. He had probably just burned to ashes whatever chance he had of bringing back their passionate love. All because he was scared of having children. Blinking back the torrent of tears, Edge cursed himself for staying. Beelzebub had offered him a position back as their king. But he had chosen his new family over his old one. There wasn't just no reason they hadn't found him before, when he still lived on the Sky City, Starlite. But they hadn't. He found it hard to trust them because of that sole reason.
"I love Path... don't I? I have to." It struck him that they weren't even bonded. In human terms, they were just bed buddies. And it saddened him that maybe he was obligated to spend the rest of his life with someone whom he no longer loved! The thought sent shivers down his spine. There was no doubt in his mind that Edge was fond of Path, and found him very attractive, but it wasn't possible that he loved him with all his heart. Maybe he was just a stupid kid who took advantage of a god. He grunted, then shook himself of the jelly and pulled on a few furs.
There was no point, he decided, to leave. Path would protect him and he would be able to see his kids whenever he wanted to. He wasn't sure what had triggered this onslaught of negative, mature emotions, but he didn't like it. As he stumbled into the bedroom, he felt like a zombie and didn't acknowledge his family at all. Instead, he simply plopped onto the bed, face-down on a pillow and stayed perfectly still. The teenager hugged the pillow the way he used to hug Path. He breathed in deeply, imagining it was someone he loved. Someone who didn't exist.
Wait... no... Violet eyes flashing in realization, Edge suddenly sat up. Maybe he couldn't have a sexual love, but he could have a parental one. That much was certain. "Skylark... Sleipnir... Can Daddy have a hug, too?" He said with a warm smile and with outstretched arms.
Skylark noticed his Daddy, but didn't make a move to hug him. He was a little... irritated with him for upsetting Father. Turning his head the other way, he murmured in a distant tone, "Maybe later." He then continued to hug his Father lovingly with a content smile.
Smile cracking visibly, Edge hastily turned to Sleipnir. "What about you, baby? You love Daddy.... don't you...?"
Skylark said nothing as Path picked him up and carried him away, back to the bedroom. He wiggled in the furs he was clothed in. Father was radiating a sort of forlorn sadness, and the child didn't understand. The grey-haired boy thought about pointing it out, but knew Father wouldn't like him to. There was no point in upsetting him any further. Though he hadn't snapped at him or anything like that, for some reason Skylark knew that Path was irritated. Or maybe... just sad. Eyes tearing up, the baby dragon suddenly leaped at the older dragon, not caring that Path was dizzy. He nuzzled his soft face into Path's chest. "Is Father okay?" He paused, then leapt up to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Father... You'll always have me." He said sweetly in a knowing, smiling voice.
However, Edge was not so happy. He felt alone. He felt... cold. Warm tears dripped down his cheeks as he sank lower into the goop. He had probably just burned to ashes whatever chance he had of bringing back their passionate love. All because he was scared of having children. Blinking back the torrent of tears, Edge cursed himself for staying. Beelzebub had offered him a position back as their king. But he had chosen his new family over his old one. There wasn't just no reason they hadn't found him before, when he still lived on the Sky City, Starlite. But they hadn't. He found it hard to trust them because of that sole reason.
"I love Path... don't I? I have to." It struck him that they weren't even bonded. In human terms, they were just bed buddies. And it saddened him that maybe he was obligated to spend the rest of his life with someone whom he no longer loved! The thought sent shivers down his spine. There was no doubt in his mind that Edge was fond of Path, and found him very attractive, but it wasn't possible that he loved him with all his heart. Maybe he was just a stupid kid who took advantage of a god. He grunted, then shook himself of the jelly and pulled on a few furs.
There was no point, he decided, to leave. Path would protect him and he would be able to see his kids whenever he wanted to. He wasn't sure what had triggered this onslaught of negative, mature emotions, but he didn't like it. As he stumbled into the bedroom, he felt like a zombie and didn't acknowledge his family at all. Instead, he simply plopped onto the bed, face-down on a pillow and stayed perfectly still. The teenager hugged the pillow the way he used to hug Path. He breathed in deeply, imagining it was someone he loved. Someone who didn't exist.
Wait... no... Violet eyes flashing in realization, Edge suddenly sat up. Maybe he couldn't have a sexual love, but he could have a parental one. That much was certain. "Skylark... Sleipnir... Can Daddy have a hug, too?" He said with a warm smile and with outstretched arms.
Skylark noticed his Daddy, but didn't make a move to hug him. He was a little... irritated with him for upsetting Father. Turning his head the other way, he murmured in a distant tone, "Maybe later." He then continued to hug his Father lovingly with a content smile.
Smile cracking visibly, Edge hastily turned to Sleipnir. "What about you, baby? You love Daddy.... don't you...?"
. . .
Alright, fine.
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