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Argyle is gonna kiss every one of Vynathr's scars. Yes all of them.
That would take a while. And at first, Vynathr shied away, not certain how to handle such soft affection placed on every part of him. But as Argyle went, even if he remained tense and half hidden in himself, a small purr started, barely audible.
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Top ten sentences I have written: "There was no depravity he had not at least tasted, and he had found he quite liked this particular song and dance."
@purplesockson
Rarely is Pitch Black's presence a gentle thing for a child. Oh, his voice may be soft, his words may even be doting, but the feeling was the same- hairs rising on the back of the neck, a sickly feeling in the stomach, the fluttering of a frightened heart. Normally, when Pitch was present, it was him causing that feeling, because the child lacked the fear they needed to stay safe.
He'd never arrived to a child already frightened. He'd never slipped out of the shadows only to find his space under the bed occupied by the very one he'd come for. He was still hidden, luckily, ponderously watching the shaking little boy, wrapped up with his blanket over his head like a shield while he hid.
A heavy fist pounded on the bedroom door, and all at once, Pitch knew. He knew exactly why this child was afraid, and he knew exactly what he was going to do about it.
He was going to make this alright in a more... Heavy handed manner.
When the lock gave in and the door slammed open, Pitch was ready, but he waited. He waited until the large, angry man was storming towards the bed, and he surged up to meet him, atop a whinnying, rearing nightmare. The cacophonous sound of a very unhappy mare was accompanied by Pitch's angry his, and the crack of a hoof against the man's skull.
Pitch might not be believed in by the adult, but he was able to influence physical reality just enough for that little blow, though it hit less hard than a "real" hoof would have, and the man went down with a yell. Pitch was visible to him now, as irrational paranoia set in, and he snarled, gripping his reigns and leaning over to loom over the man. Wisely, the man scrambled to his feet and ran, the door slamming shut and bouncing back open behind him. Pitch sat still upon his steed, staring intensely after him, until he was out of the house and on the way down the street. Only then did Pitch slowly pull his gaze away to instead focus on the child.
@purplesocksonâÂ
   âHey. Heyheyhey. Howâs it feel that I, the human Lotor, have magic and you donât?â
Waves his spell jar in front of grape juice Lotorâs face.
@purplesocksonâ liked for a doodle!
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âYouâre not focusing. Stop letting your mind wander.â
He stood before him, both holding dummy swords. The training deck was small, but it was affective, and he knew it well. It had been decades since heâd been at the home base, and he couldnât deny that it felt like coming home.Â
He cracked a smile, stopping his own mind from wandering. It was hard, though. After all, he was back. After all these years, he was home.Â
âShow me your defensive stance.â
@purplesockson
starter for @purplesocksonâ
He was not unlike his father, and that put him on edge. He never trusted Lotor, and he didnât plan on changing his mind. Even so, he put on an accepting face and shook his hand. Even if he was silently plotting his demise.Â
âYour majesty, your intel proved correct once again.â
For now.Â
@purplesockson from x
Now that was an odd request. He raised a brow, trying to get a better look at the strangerâs face.Â
âThat depends. Just how much are we talking?â
