#syred

Rosemarri’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the threats, his lean and his expression. The hands that held the book dropped to hang lifelessly at her side and shortly after the movement, the book plunked to the ground. Whoever stood before her... was not Ithildir. If her chin had not already been lifted it would have jerked upwards in a show of arrogance. “Do not speak to me that way, I do not deserve that from you. I have done nothing but help you since the moment I met you, despite every voice saying you were dangerous to me. And now, because I sat in that saferoom with you and tried to help you save your soul and life.. -I- am the bad one? “ Her loud whispers maintained, she refused the scene. “How dare you.. how dare you sit with me and my people and mock friendship.”

"I see. I am sorry someone did this to you. But come. We will end it." Totally unaware that her accidental cohort were in the process of fleeing. She looses her greataxe with one hand and the weapon alights with bright energy. She raises the weapon to the sky and a low blast heralds shadowed tendrils as they erupt and flare out from its pike, falling upon the earth and groping along for purchase. Where they find the legs of a ghoul they travel upward, attempting to wrench free their control and turn it over to a new master...

Familiarity had rapidly returned, but her grasp on its control remained distant. Unmoored. It had been a long, long time since she had wielded such powers and the tumult of tethering so many to her will had backfired somewhat. Many simply winnowed away from her purchase on their minds. Their bodies, however, might yet be stilled. She twists in place to avoid the huge weapon, windrush rustling the cloth bits of her garb. The Terror? No. The blade does not scream… In the periphery she finds herself alone again. Were the others ever there? A globule of shadow forms along her armor and gathers in size until it coalesces at her free hand. With a splayed palm she sends it to the ground. It pools, increasing in length and breadth by the instant, faster and wider the more who got caught within its mire. Tacky like glue, it would serve to keep some in their place or otherwise slow their advance. @sinsofaconfessor​

Baking cupcakes with Syred... expectations: 

Reality: 

A guest bedroom, or so it should have been. There, laid a demon of deep red flesh, wings, legs, arms, all tended to with splints, bandages, salves. It was so primitive Syred would have complained the entire time had he the energy or vocal nature to. Now his azure stare just watched from the pillows of the bed as he was fed a violet orb, a soul from a jar filled with them.

Silitharius was bloodied, dirtied, and covered in what was only age old ash and soot from an abandoned house. His hands found a basin, cleaning the filth from him now as he turned to look over Syred. A sigh escaped him. He'd asked for the story, for what happened. He'd gathered what he could from the bare rasps of the demons recollection. Their conversation a quiet mumble. Once he was cleaned, robes dusted and clothes set to right once more, he took to his hair, righting what was dishevelled in an effort to present himself less as a haggard creature he was more notably known for.

" Xyn'rael."

A void imp spawned from darkness, stunned, alarmed. " What?...What?" The imp spied Syred.

" He doesn't know I'm alive I can't let him see m-"

"Stow the Secrecy, Xyn'rael...You're needed. This isn't a time for hiding." The Void elf had a...presence, something assertive that made the imp grow progressively nervous. The imp looked over Syreds form. " What the -fuck- happened to him?...Was it Dregg?"

"Worse."

Xyn'rael shuddered. " Was it the --...You know what...I don't want to know...What do y'need me to do?"

Silitharius looked down to the imp. " Guard him, keep the girls out of here for now. I don't want them to see him like this." " You realize they can -all- take me in a fight, right?" The imp snorted.

"Get creative...I know you can."

The imp groaned, rubbing clawed fingers over his face and whined. " Why do you guys make me do hard shit."

Silitharius' stare watched him. " I had to watch my demon -birth- you out of my body half consumed....I'm practically your father." The elf got more stern, leaning down and locking his eyes. " Help me and keep guard. It's for the girls...You don't need to tend to him..I'll return shortly. No one in...No one out."

Xyn'rael groaned again, peeking through his clawed fingers with one yellow eye. " Fine...I'll...fuckin' think of something....-You- Owe me."

" If it gets you to act...then I will owe you." Silitharius turned to the door, simple pale fingers brushing over the fine wood. " I'm to meet with someone and talk with them." " Is the one who beat crankies ass over here?"

Two demons, locked inside a broken house, enclosed by magic. One had ghostly pale skin, the other dark red.

To those that knew the two, they might have expected something more grand, two creatures of dark magic locked in great combat. It was nothing of the sort, the pale had overwhelmed the red in ease. Broken limbs, bruised.skin, blood -smeared- over shattered wood. soaking an already haunted place with the lifesblood of a monster.

During the brutality, the carnage and blood, clawed fingers skewering one demon in what was an utterly relentless series of horrific carnage.

The Pale was the only one who seem to speak, barely giving the other a chance to breath before bringing more wrath upon him.

“ Why are mortals using my name?...Why?” “ You know this is terribly inconvenient. For me. -How- am I to go about my business when I’m being summoned every which way?” Another clawed finger rammed through the flesh of the red, another howl of pain. “Every time I’ve been summoned on -your- behalf.. I’ve made it a rule of mine to take something from you..First? it was small. A little bit of mail...Then...Bigger...Silitharius.” Carapace could be heard cracking, bones shattering, another howl of pain. “I’m sick of you, my little mistake.”

The pale watched him, a clawed hand clutching the Reds face. A brief skim of memories. “ Who are they, my little bastard?” Flashes, memories, faces one after another, settled so lightly at the front of the reds short term memory, easily plucked. “ Oh?...Quite a few...Some... I recall..The others..” He chuckled. “We will see if they can’t be tracked down.”

The pale ran the back of the reds skull into the brick fireplace, repeated,mercilessly slamming him against the brick. “ You’ve used your last strike..Your novelty has worn off....Duality no longer has its appeal. It’s quite alright, I’ll take in all your possessions, fear not.” “Your weapons, your home.” “Your family.” There it was, a glint of fire, resistance from the red.Shadow magic surged from the broken and mangled demon, the reds will forced the pales back, slamming against the barrier, tendrils lashed out, resistance. The magic snapped over the pales limbs, yet..melted under the lack of concentration in a moment of weakness. The pale rose again, laughing as he sauntered closer.

The beating went on for hours.Bones continued to be shattered, broken carapace at every possible opportunity. Large wings bent in the wrong direction and shredded.  Every so often the red put up resistance, fought back with some small spurt of energy and will, but it was quickly and forcefully wrung from his body.

As the hours passed, as blood soaked every inch of the floor. The pale grew progressively more irritated. “Go -BACK- to the nether little bastard....Go writhe in nothingness for Eons like the slime you are...Maybe grow a backbone and LEARN what you are!” “Go Back!” Another broken bone,  rent flesh providing new blood. “-GO BACK-!” wood piercing flesh, bricks ground against the red demons face. He didn’t slip into the nether, though he’d long since passed the threshold of needing to. The Demon refused, putting it’s essence at risk. Why? Who could say. “ GO...B-”

In an instant, the remains of the room were destroyed, leveled. A hand, no, a fist had broken through the entire room, gargantuan in size. Black hand had essentially rammed itself through. The force was otherwordly, sending both the pale and the red flying, landing in a daze in the dirt and grass. There, in the dirt and rain stood a ren’dorei, violet robes. Eyes glinting with pure energy of the void. He’d stepped closer, mumbling one word, an incantation, a spell. -POOF-. The pale had evaporated, shunted into the ether at a simple spell to banish him. Silitharius stepped closer, sifting quietly through debris to find the mangled body of the red. The elf settled down. Setting a hand to the broken demons form. The Red spat out the second garbled words he’d uttered. “I said to protect Ceri.” Silitharius nudged the demons chin, looking over the shattered  form. He frowned down at him. “ We need to tend to you.”

“ I told you...to..protect...Ceri.” The red growled out, even now a broken mess on the muddy ground.

“ Daddy!” There, a red-headed girl sprinted across the expanse of a stone hall. Shadows had billowed up into the path of a home designed of tiny hands grasped at the shadows form seeking to hug the writhing mass of shadows, but found no purchase once the form had coalesced. Corporeal in appearance only. Syred stood there, adorning a violet silk shirt and pants, spying Amarah once his figure had formed. “ Spawnling what are you doing up? I’m certain it’s past your bedtime.” “ Silly said we could!  We were good and he said so.” She nodded, pointing a tiny digit at a single doorway in the hall. Syred turned to look back at the door, then back to Amarah. “ I see... you -and- Ari have been behaving?” Quick insistent shakes of her head, causing red curls to sway. “ Uhuh. Why are you ghost Dad? “ Syreds azure sight turned to lock on Amarah. “ I’m still doing business, Amarah. I can’t come home yet.” “ That’s too much business!” She insisted, frowning at her. “Come home.” Amarahs stare showed worry, trepidation. “ Soon, Amarah. It’s very important business.” “ Promise?” Her words held an upward incline, eyes wide. She’d gone into puppy-dog defcon 4. Deliberately looking as downtrodden as possible. Fuck, this con artist right here. Syred had a thing with promises, Amarah knew it.” A slow exhale escaped him before he nodded. “ I promise I will return the very instant my important business is done.”

“ Okay...” Amarah turned to step away, racing back to an unattended coloring book. Syred turned to head into a solitary bedroom, almost dusty from lack of use. Inside, sat Silitharius sitting along the floor, legs crossed, runes glowing over his flesh in an ornate green and violet glow. The elf had taken some time to himself it seemed, all the while seated at the foot of the bed like a guard dog.

True to the analogy, in the bed lay what he guarded, Ari settled on the mattress with a coloring book settled next to the unconscious form that was now known as Ceri. Ari turned her gaze up to Syred for a moment, frowning at him, her small facial features down-turned into a scowl before she returned to coloring on the bed.

Good. Hatred would benefit her in later years Syred explained in his own thoughts, dismissing her Ire to spare a glance at Ceri, and then to Silitharius. “ A word?” Silitharius nodded, rising from the ground and his meditation, kilt dusting the stone ground as he padded barefoot across the room to follow Syred. Both wandered down the halls, finding a decorative table selected by Syred as was much of the home. The building held a number of aesthetics of an old manor, stone walls and flooring, Elven furnishings and paintings supplemented with a number of magical enchantments to sustain the building, a few specters bound to anchors for maintaining candles. Syred and Silitharius settled to talk in private.

Syred told Silitharius of his plan in its entirety, every detail, every contingency. The end of Syreds words had Silitharius frowning, deeply. “ I do not like it.” “ Nor do I, but the risk and collateral damage is reduced is it not?” “ No, it’s transformed into mental damage. They won’t understand this, the same way they didn’t understand before.” “ Should I risk the physical?...put them in more mortal danger? This plan works.” “ This plan gets you killed.” Syred slammed his hand on the table. “ I MADE A DEAL.” The yelling echoed through the stone. a moment passed before his voice became a hissed whisper. “ I don’t want to do -any- of this. But I do not break my deals.I -hate- this..All of this, but I can’t go back to the way we lived. I won’t lie to myself and hope for something like that.”

Silitharius’ expression seemed calm, knowing. “ You lie to yourself everyday when you say this is only about the promises you made to her.” “ Fuck you.” Syred sneered.The words almost comically cut short by Silitharius’ next words. “ How many times have we stepped across the border and pain of death?...How many times has that world spat us back out? We are too sour for the other side.” He teased. “Is this, the Syred I’ve met? Just one plan with no backups..No plan B, no plan C. No ace in the hole?”

heat swelled over the farmland, wide eyes watched as a large dark cloud in the sky had dumped a body with a hefty pained grunt, smoldering and broken. One leg and arm violently shattered. The vagabond male crept from behind the tree, looking down. “ Are you alive?” He looked over the body, seeing the dark red flesh and cracked green veins over hefty bruises, carapace and claws, horns and wings.

Oh. Oh.

Realization came late as his question was answered in a fateful twist of shadow magic. Azure eyes opened, whispers graced the dying grass of the farmland as the demons gaze found the man, shadows birthed from the tree, grasping at him and holding him down. Whispers beckoning, calling out and asking the ragged male questions.

There was barely enough time to scream, magic fueled by rage and wrath captive.

A bloody carcass devoid of flesh and cloth was hurled, a death scream echoed across the farmland as a skinless transients body melted into slagged rock.

The last act of wrath before the demons azure gaze closed was the demons illusion finding his form, a demons figure replaced by that of a broken elf. Syred had passed out from the pain of his injuries, will lost to a dream.

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