#tyriannical

On his way out, he found himself looking forward to more time to himself, and decided perhaps he would stop and do some quiet meditation. The smallest of self indulgent smiles crossed his features, and he ducked his head as he walked through the crowded street. As people became more few and far between, Ren gave a quick little glance over his shoulder. Paranoia still followed him everywhere, it seemed. His senses had not yet given off any sort of indication that something was wrong, but he kept an eye out nonetheless.

@tyriannical​: "does it feel liberating to finally kill?" 

“I didn’t kill ANYONE! You started all of this, manipulating me into getting Clover out of the way, just so you can stab him in the back! I wanted him out of our way so I could end YOU!” Heart strings snap, the control he had over his rage was slipping moment by moment. Blood boils, if this is how he fell, so be it. Qrow’s mind was made up, if he became unwanted by his nieces, by their friends and by Atlas for choosing this path of vengeance, then he’ll let it happen. 

          atlas might as well have been a foreign city. the streets felt unreal to whitley as she stumbled down them, cloak she stole from an empty ( and still open ) shoppe wrapped tightly around the blood - stained dress lee wore. her aura left her with fresh scars, though worked enough to get her up and moving again. there was still a plan in place, despite the chaos unraveling around them. 

        ‘  pick up -- why aren’t you picking up ?  ‘  she huffed, once again met by continuous ringing whenever she tried contacting arthur or tyrian. she had no idea what happened to either of them, or . . . if they both finally decided whitley wasn’t worth keeping.  she glanced around at the panicked and confused citizens --- all presumably worried about what happened in mantle happening here too. 

         “you know, having your tail cut off is quite the mess, little brother.” his voice snarls, fury lacing every syllable. the new tail glints in the light of mantle’s full moon as it flicks behind him in annoyance. “do you truly wish to see it without its protection, or are you simply trying to trick me? that’s not a very nice thing to do to family, you know.” tyrian giggles. “your little friend nearly  p a r a l y z e d  me, little lie. do you feel no sympathy for your brother? do you feel no animosity toward your leader for such cruelty?”

      tyrian is suddenly very close to ren’s face, gold meeting pink as he grins, his expression twisted like barbed wire. “SHALL I CUT OFF YOUR HAND TO MAKE THINGS EVEN?”

     Ren’s face remained calm despite the erratic way his heart beat inside his chest. Facing Tyrian now, alone, was like seeing a ghost in the mirror. The sister - no, brother? - he once knew stood before him, and there were so many similarities to the person he remembered but there were so, so many differences as well. Fear and confusion welled up in Ren’s stomach as the shine of the scorpion’s new tail caught his eye. Little Lie made him feel sick, it sounded wrong on this man’s tongue. It was nothing like the caring tone from the sibling he remembered.

lets make chaotic children hoursfirst off, pure chaos bc someone is a bad influence- take that how you please. second just pretend they’re a reptilian faunus - specifically a tuatara with their neck and chest being heavily affected with rough, scaled skin, and other patches across their arms, face and legs i spent half an hour searching okay fvbnedgk\jv

Sephia Callows 

       She was brutal.

       Not that Arthur had any doubts of that; he’d seen the remnants of her work before.  Helped Tyrian heal after particularly nasty sparring sessions, and heard some of them, through the walls.  Quiet was not a thing their training sessions could often be called.

       A certain level of pain was unavoidable, of course, and the doctor watched the session with that in mind.  There was no use in growing troubled at most of the actions therein; Tyrian’s aura would heal most of the blows so far within a few moments...a few hours, at most, for the worst ones, he thought.

       But there's an edge to her movements, this time.  A smugness to her gaze that has the doctor darting forward to intercept.  It’s a foolish plan, and a voice in the back of his mind screams at him that it’s not worth what will happen next...but he manages to put himself between his grimm mistress and the boy.  Unfortunately, there was nothing between her, and him.

       The doctor let out a sharp breath as the pain seared through his middle...but that was all he let out.  He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of anything more.  If only he could stop the way his knees buckle as she withdraws the bone-white hand from his middle, the sensation of shock starting to cloud his mind.  It isn’t the pain - that, he could handle - it's...the detachment, he thinks.  The way she can punch a hole through him and not even blink.

       A brief flicker of electric yellow crackles against gloved hands, even as Salem’s orders draw him from the shock.  If she hadn’t...Tyrian’s would have.  Pleading with him to stand...

       The doctor let out a hiss, and swallowed back the wave of agony as he half-stumbled to his feet, one hand resting on Tyrian’s shoulder as he drew in a sharp breath.

       “Of course, darling,” he manages, in a tone that normally might have been gentle, but comes out with an edge of agony.  But it’s steady, and it’s soft, at least...and he doesn’t fall to his knees immediately. “Tyrian, darling...if you’d...give me a hand.”

@tyriannical​   >   "how does it feel?" his voice cuts through the air like a knife, never echoing. a giggle. "knowing he's one of us now?" heels click against the pavement as he slowly, surely comes closer, eyes glowing in the low light. he reeks of death. "knowing the next time you see your little knight, one of you will have to die? failure isn't an option, i'm sure you know." he wipes a splatter of blood from his cheek. "does it hurt to know he misses you so badly that his screams fill our home nightly?"   unscripted.

they were burning through their aura at the most alarming rate. they had been for half an hour just trying to locate the source of malevolent intent. in all honesty, ren should have recognised it sooner. hadn’t they sensed tyrian before all those months ago ? back then, they’d managed to save jaune from the first hit. the next, ren had managed nothing. jaune was taken, spirited away with nothing but pyrrha’s red sash and a pool of blood to show for it. the truth to tyrian’s question was that it was bearable, but in a way that would eventually chip and carve at ren’s insanity until they were nothing but an empty shell. the very thought of jaune in enough turmoil to give. himself. up. even after the way they’d argued, and cried, and yelled at each other to never sacrifice themselves for each other was horrifying. and ren was a realist, they could have been doing all manner of experiments on him, torturing him for information. when next ren saw jaune, they didn’t even know if they’d have the means to bring him home, and that was what killed them the most.

ren felt so much in the few careful breaths they took to answer such a cruel question, most of them the apex of ren’s destructive tendencies. they felt misery to the point of drowning themselves in the ice cold atlesian waters, they felt enough malevolent fury to kill themselves so long as they could take tyrian with them to an early grave, but that was the beauty, and the curse of their semblance. where ren felt like dying, when they wished to commit so much atrocity in the name of emotions they could not handle, they still seemed calm and collected on the surface. their emotionless expression gave no rise to the way hardened magenta hue became glassy, and red. their weapons raised defensively, dragon smoke wisping from their mouth when ren finally spoke. at the bare minimum, ren knew jaune was alive. they had no reason to trust in anything tyrian had to say, but their instincts, the ones that had sensed such a malevolent and bloodthirsty force, were normally right about liars too.   ‘   ... what do you want ?   ’   ren tried to keep their tone measured, but the last words came out as a barely restrained snarl.

‘   wh ... why are you here ?   ’