Fallen Prince

“Those who disagree become my next meal.”

[Please do not use these, they are mine.]

:// Before and after Disaster, Color, 2019

The feeling of heat hits him - were Malcore anything but essentially fireproof, he’d be concerned. But this was a man that had been repeatedly seen dipping into the lava pools to enjoy a relaxing few moments to himself.His eyes remain locked on the other, calm as his rage intensifies. “Again - creature - the invitation is present. I do not fear that which I know is below me.” Mal returns, his smooth accent rolling from a honey-dipped tongue. “That would require you to be able to lay a hand on me, and you will be unable to. How are you even aware I’m presently speaking to you? I wasn’t simply raised to be my father’s right hand… My mother held a great deal of magical prowess.” He says. “I do, however, dare you to attempt to lay a single hand on me. Perhaps then I’ll entertain the thought of my organs being forcibly ripped out as you suggested.”

He snarls - lips curled back like an alpha displaying his sharp teeth. Malcore glares back at the other, only seeking to intimidate him. “I predate you, childish creature.” The infernal hisses, a growl rumbling in his throat. “Not only that, but fire cannot kill me. I’d sooner throw you into the sea than deal with a petulant ember of a thing.” He says back.“You can land the first blow, if you’re able. I don’t have time to waste on something that could be easily snuffed out with a stiff breeze.” Mal adds, flames licking at his tongue.

Malcore would otherwise be unbothered - however this creature begged to be fought. He holds his ire, fingers juggling a ball of flame across and through his fingertips like a magician performing an idle coin trick. “You’re one to speak – King Vulcan intrudes where he was not welcome in the first place, creature.” Malcore replies. He drops his guise, hands dragging over his head to sprout his usual horns as his tail flicks in agitation. “I eat sparks of flame like you – hold your tongue, and perhaps we won’t need to bargain over your fate any further.” The infernal hisses, tongue spitting sparks as he speaks.

He slowly puts his hands up, fixing the smaller with a dull stare.“Ahhhh.” He groans out, heavily exaggerating a bored scream. “You’ve scared me, I’m shaking in my shoes.” Malcore grunts.

Big beefy warlock, posing seductively against tower railing @ Merrick,

Malcore hisses slightly - arms pinned to his body while he glowers down at the anonymous. “I would prefer you don’t touch me.” The infernal grunts, clearly displeased at the contact.

:// His favorite place to be is Mercury - it’s warmest there, and if he can slip away long enough he’ll try and fly close to the Sun out in open space (hopefully undetected by any Vanguard operations). 

:// Dawnblade. He only typically fights with swords and hand cannons, and with his preference of solar he’s a total Dawnblade main forever.

:// He’s named his Ghost Ra - and she’s very sassy. The name doesn’t really have a meaning to him aside from it being easy to say. Her shell is the Sanctified Vigilance Shell.