draco dormiens nunquam titillandus
Jun. 16th, 2017 05:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silvermists posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
castle_perraultHe's young and small again, a little scrap of a boy drowning in a sea of sickly green light. The smell of decay fills the air, choking him.
There's. A dragon. The dragon is source of the smell, rotten all the way through. He can feel the creature, made of greying meat, hating him with all its soulless might. He can't move his body. He can't release his magic to cleanse the thing to death. It's roaring words at him in a language he doesn't know and understands perfectly. Murderer. Dragon-killer. Mankind-killer, brother-killer, Dark Messenger, destroyer of all Terra's hopes, Angel of Death.
He laughs and laughs and laughs, for imagery of this little boy's future flash through his mind and it is all pain--
He sits up with a start, going from dreams to reality in a fraction of a second. This man never sleeps all that deeply, anyway. There's a shadowy figure in the corner of his room.
It grins at him, golden eyes glowing and meeting his blue. He grins back. Little boy fears. It hardly made his nightmares worse by lurking, and all of those things were real. Not fantasy.
It's going to die anyway. Again. Too stupid to have learned from the first encounter? How tragic. In the time it takes for the Nightmare King to open its mouth and say one word, the Angel of Death has already called up a spell and flung it, filling the room with deadly white light. Goodbye, Pitch.
The Boogeyman is flung out the door shrieking, already dying of the light that's meant to kill. The door wasn't open before he made his exit. A large jagged piece is snapped off by Kuja as he follows the shadow into the hall. Garland taught him to murder with more than magic and oh, does he have pent-up tension...
He finishes the gurgling creature by plunging the stake through its chest, sending thick black blood spraying. (But not far, for it's tarry stuff.) Then he seems to come back to his senses, straightening his back and inclining his head so his hair falls over his eyes...
Well. That just happened.
There's. A dragon. The dragon is source of the smell, rotten all the way through. He can feel the creature, made of greying meat, hating him with all its soulless might. He can't move his body. He can't release his magic to cleanse the thing to death. It's roaring words at him in a language he doesn't know and understands perfectly. Murderer. Dragon-killer. Mankind-killer, brother-killer, Dark Messenger, destroyer of all Terra's hopes, Angel of Death.
He laughs and laughs and laughs, for imagery of this little boy's future flash through his mind and it is all pain--
He sits up with a start, going from dreams to reality in a fraction of a second. This man never sleeps all that deeply, anyway. There's a shadowy figure in the corner of his room.
It grins at him, golden eyes glowing and meeting his blue. He grins back. Little boy fears. It hardly made his nightmares worse by lurking, and all of those things were real. Not fantasy.
It's going to die anyway. Again. Too stupid to have learned from the first encounter? How tragic. In the time it takes for the Nightmare King to open its mouth and say one word, the Angel of Death has already called up a spell and flung it, filling the room with deadly white light. Goodbye, Pitch.
The Boogeyman is flung out the door shrieking, already dying of the light that's meant to kill. The door wasn't open before he made his exit. A large jagged piece is snapped off by Kuja as he follows the shadow into the hall. Garland taught him to murder with more than magic and oh, does he have pent-up tension...
He finishes the gurgling creature by plunging the stake through its chest, sending thick black blood spraying. (But not far, for it's tarry stuff.) Then he seems to come back to his senses, straightening his back and inclining his head so his hair falls over his eyes...
Well. That just happened.