ᴄʜᴀᴏs / sᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ.

❝ I was hoping to COOPERATE, actually.  I know better than to loop you in with the ARKHAM crew. ❞ @ofthychaos / sc !

            “oh, i hope so, batman.”  there’s a twitch to his features, a barely passed uptick of his upper lip; the beginnings of a reasonably contemplative sneer. wouldn’t that be a show, and for a moment klarion absolutely wonders what ins and outs arkham held beneath its stoney facade. would it hold him? ----  as his attention drifts to the middle distance over the bat’s shoulders, he muses that the possibility of it was quite high, all considering that devil woman's involvement and just the thought of one amanda waller leaves a rather bitter taste in his mouth. so, fingers thread into the silken orange plush of teekl’s fur, and that smile quirks just a little too sharply on the inhuman side. ----  oh, just the idea of getting his claws into that woman ignited a primal sense of joviality in him. eyes alighting in the cold red of brimstone he hums.  

random asks    /  @roikhoi

            something UGLY curls his maw. crown listing ever so slowly backwards at the call of her voice until he’s just able to make out the jaded green of her garb. the ANNOYANCE littered across her sharp features. shame, and here  he’d thought she’d at least find SOME AMUSEMENT at being tethered to one of gotham’s former birds. 

           even now, he can see the delicate, interwoven strands of their shared soul waver. the azure TREMBLING as it takes damage. “ooh, i bet you felt that one, huh?” a SNEER has warped his garish mug, what was once human slipping into something born of BRIMSTONE and malintent. a demon’s visage. it clings to his glamour for but a fraction before settling back into something impassive. —- bored — INDIFFERENT. 

      “impress  me,  was  that  what  you’ve  been  trying  to  do  all  this  time?”  a  SMIRK  streaks  across  the  witchboy’s  features.  the  arch  of  his  chin  brushing  over  the  escrima  stick’s  polished  line. &  when  the  weight  lessons,  klarion  PRESSES  foward.  following  the  retreating  weapon  with  a  hint  of  brimstone  awakening  within  the  onyx  of  his  eyes. / wicked  mischief  coursing  through  his  veins.  “but ---- why  indeed.  it’s  almost  as  if  i  were  distracting  you!”  painted  nails  clip  into  the  baton,  sinking  into  the  grooves  as  he  trails  a  finger  down its  girth. ----- if  only  he  had  taken  a  moment  &  used  his  head,  he would  have  realized  that  his  anchor  was  nowhere  in  sight. 

TEEKL + OUTSIDERS.           the demon does not particularly like nor care for others. in fact she is quick to distrust when it comes to anyone besides that of her master. her main job is to keep klarion level & sure-footed in his trek into chaos. she provides him with intel & surveillance as well as keeping him from taking any form of harm.  she’s not above soul-gazing into another affronting being to get a bead on their true intentions & if deemed unworthy or that of a threat she DISPOSES of them by borrowing klarion’s power.  

            “now  that’s  a  face ----- “  the  very  air  between  them  CRACKLES  with  his  energy ---  the  magic  dissipating  with  a  few  lingering  licks  of  waning  red.  a  wicked  smile  morphing  the  edges  of  his  maw.   “what’s  wrong --- not  what  you  were  expecting?” 

      “this  is  growing  rather  tedious,  don’t  you  think?”  a  pitiful  game  of  cat  &  mouse.  ----- a  hero  pressing  his  luck  against  a  bit  of  HARMLESS  fun.  klarion  rolls  his  shoulders  in  a  shrug  &  quirks  his  lips  unamusedly.  “why  don’t  you  just  run  off  and  leave  me  to  my  biddings.” 

        “well,  aren’t  you  the  spitting  image  of  one,  pre-humanized  superboy.”  lips  crack  &  teeth  gleam  against  the  failing  light  of  day.  klarion  leans  back,  comfortable  &  calculating.  “hows  the  whole  ‘rage’  thing  going  for  you?” 

         bristled  FUZZ  brushes  up  against  the  female’s  legs  as  teekl  makes  another  slow  pass.  evaluating  chesire’s  dwindling  progress.   ‹  this  one  smells  deceit  &  betrayal. ›  klarion  shifts  upon  his  perch,  head  cocked  to  the  side  as  his  gaze  narrows  upon  his  familar.  “hush  teekl -----  and  let  her  work.  though ----  it  would  be  much  faster  if  you  just  let  me  materialize  us  inside  already.” 

          "YOU  DARE -------- ?!”   cryptic  hellfire  doused  in  magic  lashes  out  at  the  rodent /  peeling  the  bark  off  his  petty  branches.  klarion  snarls,  flingers  twitching  &  curling  as  they  accept  the  power  that  sparks  within  his  palms  /  ready  to  cleave  the  bat  in  twain.  “-----what  sort  of  HERO  strikes  a  boy?   where.  are.  your.  manners?”  &  just  like  that,  klarion  reaches  out.  manifesting  one  large  energized  demonic  arm,  with  razor  sharp  claws  aimed  &  ready  to  sink  into  the  vigilante's  core. 

              ebony  crown  tilts  at  the  call  of  his  familiar’s  voice,  &  eyes  of  dormant  brimstone  flash  in  muted  interest.  “why  ----  if  it  isn’t  the  atlantean.”  there’s  a  bit  of  CHEEK  in  the  greeting.  a  spark  of  decaying  amusement  &  soon  enough  klarion’s  attention  swivels  away  from  the  leaguer  &  back  onto  the  craft  playing  out  between  his  fingers. 

          “i  doubt  you’ve  come  to  aid  me  -----  not  that  i’d  ever  accepted  help  from  such  a  primitive  mastery  of  the  mystics.  so ,  why  don’t  you  do  us  both  a  favor  and  cut  to  the  quick,  hmm? -----  why  are  you  here?”