Drakon, Seneca & @Aidoneus vs. Arishem @Neriah
Dominance/get the fuck out
1 - 3
Hits:
Dodges:
Luck:
she wakes up to absolute chaos. while it's awesome that aido is among them, diantha can't help but be miffed that her dad, rielus, and drakon also jumped in. maybe, just maybe not-mom will get gravely injured. the suddenness of the intrusive thought stops diantha in her tracks. it's an image that diantha can't sweep away so easily. a part of her is shocked at the idea, truly, but it's who she is. aidoneous's sudden ascension and pregnancy followed soon after genya's disappearance. it almost seems like dad has abandoned genya for another woman. diantha wonders if he'll abandon her and her sisters. only because they came from genya's loins. she frowns, deeply so, briefly forgetting where she is going until the scent of blood pulls her back. battles excite her and makes her want to join. but there are so many lions in the fray that diantha knows she'll do more harm than good. plus, she still has years to go before she can take part in a true fight and win. all she can do now is cheer on the men and hope they win against the intruders. |
Goodness does not dwell here. It never has. Poisoned by their own factions of religous usurpers. False gods and damning prophets, they bow unto the heel of satans heavy snare. Like rabid dogs held close to their master by mere chains. Yanked back with even the slightest hymn of pressure, yet let go with even the most pungent cell of resistance. Though, they do not bite the hand that makes them. Command and fallets their souls unto a sea of darkness. Yet - they worpship him. Worship the god that brings forth destruction and death, and martyrs for a cause that is oh so hellish than his own. Heaven was a place to dwell upon the right hand of their father. He had been told many a times before how hell would come down and dwell amongst them. Walking demons in the flesh of men - ruined to destroy a world that would only be sanctified by milk and light. If they poisoned the earth any further, would father come? Surely so.
They cannot be saved. Martyrs to their own ravenous religions. Bore unto the sanction of hellish sand. He recounts the fallow of waters upon the horizon the oasis dips. Coiling unto the land like a mine that would erupt at any given moment. Perhaps, that is where they come from. A hellish portal to release factions of men and women who had so selfishly been brain washed by a damning God. That God, being one no other than the milky fruitation of darkness that rallies their advances. He becomes quick aquantinces with the fallen angel as his inky figure blotches unto his shoulder. Forcing the priest to leverage away from the fallen Magdalene. It is a hiss of pressure that scowls through the son of creations jowls. Pulling back lips with a bloody mar. Neriah has joined, and she seems to court with the one of their own. Poor child. Taken and turned to black before baptism and salvation. Could they not see that his warnings were not of ill intentions? But rather to bring forth the salvation that everyone so desperatly needed. The world was dying. Ending befor etheir very eyes - and they were here to help.
They had not fractured their contract upon the border. So to understand why they had chosen to attack when he stood outside of their lining..Arishem could only conclude one thing. They were vile, evil things. Demons who boasted and cried in the face of an angry God sent to salve their sin. He is not sure what to focus on. The religion, the alse godhood, or the poison they seem to inject unto his skin. Their sin becomes his own. Greed, lust, anger - it all fuels the ravenous fires of hell with an uncut ease that should not come with such smoothness for a priest. He had always been better kept upon a tight leash. As he is pushed from the waters of a drowning seer (@Aidoneus) the feel of sharpened daggers pierce his unders with a pool of blood. Staunching the fray of attacks upon his head to ruffle amongst the feathers of retreating ravens within a cry of pain.
Neriah is a strong devout woman, and there is no doubt within his mind that she above all could handle herself in this mere moment. His quarrel was not with the fallen angels disciples - yet, with the man who called himself God before them. Arishem does not care of the others as they tear upon flesh and bone. Ripping cartilage from dead carcasses, they wage a war amongst themselves before they do anyone else. Yet - this is what they cannot understand. The righteous will prosper as where the fool will die. He feels the tug upon his locks, and seems to find a certain pleasure in the violence. An innate and guttural groan slipping past blood shot jowls as a sly smirk peels unto the carpal corners of the unholy's rosary. He allows Seneca to pull and prod upon his scalp as his accomplice joins to mount his hindquarters with an assailing attack. He does not know wheter or not to turn his back to the slum dog or to conceal his efforts and prose unto the inky darkness.
Arishems bottom hits the ground, and he allows it. Not within a manner to bow before the false God, but rather to give a sense of false confidence in this situation. While they may outnumber - Neriah and he held a much higher hand than what that of the devils hell hounds do. His cassock bundles beneath the force of Rielus - the fabric ripping with ease and pooling blood before his hind quarters. It is hot and violent all in one as the priest yanks himself from Seneca's grasps. Roots seperating from foundation as the white of his mane is pulled from his scalp. He does not care for the brown hellion - but rather focuses his energy all upon the tiger blazed nephilim. Coiling as a snake - Arishem attempts to swing his upper half around in an attempt to encase Seneca's face between his claws and pull. If not to grab him to atleast make a pretty lasting scar upon his features. He wants to bring him down. Pull him towards his frame and topple the trio on one another ina cluster fuck pile of which limb is which - but will settle for anything at this point. He knows deep down that today the victory may not be in there hands, but the priest refuses to back down without a fight. For The Fllowship. For his pride, for Neriah, but most of all for his selfish greed and desire to drink of the nectar of violence.
The Oasis has been marked on this day. Plastered with a titan sized red ex upon their dunes. Should the fall of man come in the days, this would b the place where death would reign. Their wickedness shall not prosper in the light of their soverign Lord.
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