"The storm is coming, and there is no escape."

[ permission by woody on the territory destruction, grey's given permission for his char to die in the destruction - im let grey decide if they wanna post that or me first however. ]

the sunlight wanes above and the night slips in.

dead air and eerie silence as the shadows lengthen across the sand and the hidden forest within.

the world holds it's breath.

far off in the distance - something moves

a red glow, distant but moving fast,

it bleeds into the black - like the cracks along fine china - but, wrong

this red is like fissures in the sky - bleeding the wrong light and it /hurts/ to look at - the way the mind screams should not be! and yet it clearly is.

it warps and twists the closer it grows - mapping out across a foreboding form.

this close even from below you can see the creature - a dragon, but...not, there are seams here where the fabric doesn't fit, mismatched, like a facsimile of the real thing even as the red red red bleeds scars across it.

you see a glimpse of monstrous teeth - so very very red, bright and burning, rictus grinning - you think you should see it's eyes,

but there are only deep black pits - but you could swear it looks right at you

this impossibility - a shadow chained in red out of sync with the universe - opens those grinning jaws and-

the noise, the noise

it's indescribable - and even that does it injutsice.

it rings in your head - even when you cover your ears - like the birth-death screams of a universe entire, shrieking as it bleeds out,

starlight scattering across a black tableu under uncaring claws that rend through the string-fabric of existence like the slow blossom of blood from a slow dying carcass.

it's an agony in itself.

and then the world rocks beneath your small paws and you eyes unscrew to witness what the noise drove you to miss past the blinding flash behind closed lids-

a section of the canyon wall - obliterated - rocks and dust and debris collapsing down, down, down.

you scrabble away - even as the jungle catches light around you - these flames are wrong like the lightning striking above you,

red, bright and unusual - this is no natural fire and it eats all it touches.

so you run,

and run - and run,

past the screaming and the dying - you can see charred bodies even when you close your eyes - the worst is when a carcass crashes down before you from above,

half of it is eaten

you leap back - it hurts to breathe past the thudding drumbeat of your heart trying desperately to escape your very ribcage - the terror clogs your throat and stops your legs, where can you go? the fire rages around you and the screams tear into your mind

the awful noise runs a staccato undertow to the sounds of agony and sheer fear - the endless eddy of the dying to a malicious god

a chorus of despair to it's dark conductor,

you wonder if you will be mourned - you wonder if there will be anyone left to mourn

a shadow falls across you.

look up

you know what you see.

bright red and - staring staring [i]staring - a grin where stars, dead and dying, glimpsed between crimson teeth.[/i]

this is the last thing you see.

you are perhaps then,

luckier than most

(reply short due to limited wifi)

He had seen a couple of strange things here and there since he had arrived in this world. One of them being himself as he just knew that he was sort of big dog that was around in the world. Vagabond was technically a Hellhound, but he would neither believe or understand someone when they would try to explain him as being as such. It was understandable as there was no such thing as Hellhounds when he was a human. Although, it wouldn't surprise him if there was a gang with the name Hellhounds because it would certainly make for a good name. It was another boring night for the sleep-deprived male as he made his way back toward Roseblood territory. Vagabond had no connection when it came to this place, and the only people he cared about were the crew that was struggling to survive in this area. The massive beast flicked one of his ears as he neared the edge of the canyon, but he wasn't going toward the entrance of the canyon and was moving toward one of the ridges of the canyon instead. It was in the middle of the night, and he found it more productive for him to go out and do something instead of remaining in his cave and waiting for something to happen.

It was while he was walking across the desert that Vagabond heard something massive moving above him. At first, without looking up, he thought it was some sort of plane and tried to ignore it. It was only when the thing got within his eyesight that it realized it wasn't a plane. Vagabond raised his head and looked at a winged creature in the sky. Wait a minute. Vagabond immediately stopped in his tracks as he looked at the beast, only to see it start breathing fire in the distance. That had to be some Game of Thrones shit if he had ever seen that before. There was no way that was real in any means of the word. The Hellhound began to trot a little bit faster as he wanted to look at the damage of the place. There was no way a dragon was real, and no one would be able to tell him either. He blinked his vivid blue eyes as he stopped at the edge of the canyon and noticed a good amount of trees on fire. Well, that kind of sucked. Vagabond was becoming more and more confused on figuring out what was real and what was fake in this life. Right now dealing with hallucinations, he didn't believe that the fire was real and instead remained standing at the edge of the canyon, no reaction on his masked face.

"You hesitate Shadow, but remember your despair.
This is your only chance to make it end."

it was not wise to temper with something clearly dangerous - and clearly not in a right state of mind.

never mind the sparks that danced and flew in all directions from where they connected like a charging current between spines and visceral red seething cracks.

another - another noise of damnation as what sounded like the noise reality would make in a tearing motion brought the black - crimson infected - beast twirling out of reach of the assault.

and those great massive wings beat him back into a smooth dive - twice the bolts of lurid red springing from the unstable red red red and smashed into the canon walls, collapsing another end.

and then a sudden psychic cacophony that could reach and infect near anyone in reach as the beast swooped overhead spewing flames again at the flammable scenery.




S̷̛͈̖̞̝̩̯̼̟͚̲̘̻͈̱͎̦̟̈́̈̏̅͑̉͆͐͋̋̂̽͌̌̚͘͜ͅl̸̨̨̗̞͔͖̖̜͈̣̩̰͇̙̠͉̦͒̆̿̅͌͌͑̑̐̈́̏͒̓̈́͘̕͘͠͠ͅͅą̶̧̮͔̣̜̮̲͕͚͈͓͇̯̤̹̮́͊͑͐̅͗̐̀̎͗̈̅̌̎̋̿͛̕͜͝ý̴̧̱̟͍̪̳̝͓͓̥̟͚̱̰̣̰̼͔̏̓͒̈̋̂̈̒́͛̾̋̉̂͌̎͂̚ȩ̵̡͉͈̭̙̟̳̺̙͔̭͎͔̥̰͎͕̋͊̄̽̄͐͛̑̔̐́̔͂̒̓͋̕͠ŗ̷̧̡̛̱̥̟͔̞̤̺̯̼̪̖̠̬̙̑̆̽̔͂̉͛͗͐̆̓̈́́̓̿̚͘ͅs̵̢̞̣͚̦̠͖̲̱̤̖̫̙̝͎̟͇̗͛͂̈́̊̊̒̔̓͑̉͒̈́͋͂̂̕͘͝͝ ̸̨̟͖̺̟͙͔͚̙̫͇͉̬̯̫̙̳̤̠̿̇̒͌̈́͗̓͆͆̆̓͐́͌͘̚͠͝ǫ̷̠̖̩̬̙̼̣͔͚̰̘̳̜̪̫͛͂͒̒̿̇̀̀̌͋̃̈́̆͒́͘̕͜ͅf̴̨̤̳͉̥̥͉̗̭̫͙̟̦̻̩̺͊̑̇̅̈́́́̌̾̍̌̇́̀̚͘̚͜͠ͅͅ ̶̨̢̡̧̧̦̝͎̙̟̪̬̝̲͈̣͖̹̀͋̉̂̾̿̃̆̓̈́̿͒̇̃̈̇͊͜͝͠ḿ̷̧̧̠͕͔̻̲̱̮̖̹̗̖͇̪̭̅̀͌͆̒̃́̄̂̈́̈́̿͊̽̄̇̆͋͜y̸̧̢͙̩͕̭̯͓̰͚̘͈͉͈̯̭̮̦͉̐͌̓̍̏̌̏̓̆̉̅̈́̿̎́̽̕͝ ̶̨̢̨̛̤̮̪̣͓̪͉̦̖͔̮̼͎̘͍̩̄͋́͑͑͛̅̊̓͒̇̅͑͛̓͌̔̚ć̴̨̧̧̱̠̻̺̺̬̫̹͈̥͚͈͖̤̻̌̓̋̓̃̀̎̈̇̓̔̒̒̈̈́̚͝͠h̴̢̧̛̖̠̺̮̯̘͉̦̩̝̟̣̤̺͇̓́̍̍͌̔͊́̀͆̃͂̋̏̄̕ͅͅĭ̸̢͖̺̜̫̣̙̪̙̲͉͍͔͚̭̱̤̩̿͌̈́͑̅͂̀͛͐̀̂͐̈́̆͌͝͝ͅĺ̵̨̡̬̣̲̥͔̹͍̣̪͈̝͖̪̭͖͇̃̓̔̅̉̒̾̒̔͂͒͒̐̀̽͋̚̕ḑ̶̡͈̭̞̮̞͔̹̬̳͓̦͓̮̒̌̒͌̓̽͋͋͊̓̿̉̽̆͛̑͠͝ͅͅ,̶̢̛̘̳̤͖̮̮̰͇͈̦̬̠̲͍̊̃͛̾͊͊̊̑͗͆̍́͐̌͛͘͜͜͝͠ ̵̧̛̮͕͔̗̣̰͚̞̘̬̬̹̙͍̝͍͚̭͊̍̋̄́̈́̋̔́́̐̅̌́̾́̃̚S̸̡̡̡̟̠͖̱̤̠̟͕̟̭̜̮͙͒̌̈́͌̑͋̉̎͂̊̈́̌̒̃̄̿̂̕ͅĻ̷̨̧̧̳̠̳̰̗͖̯̠͎̜̼͉̪̏̀̍̀͌̾͌̈́̐̈́͑̾̉̅͌͐͘ͅÁ̴̛̪̦̟͖̳̙̣̪̭̝̗͓̱̯̯̬̪̼̯́̽̐̓̈́̂̓̆̂̈́̊̅̉̆̊̕Y̸̨̛̘͇͍̲̘̪͚͕̘͎͕͚̖̯͔͓͎̾͗̄͌̅̾̑͆͆͛͗͗́͗̚̕͠͝ͅḚ̶͉̦͉͎̪̫̟͓̤̼̳̖͖̱͓͔͚̃͑͒͗̉̅̊̈̔̂̒͋̽́̿̕͘͘͝R̷̢̡̬̩͙͇̹̟̦͚͙̰͙̦̪̜̎͑͂̇̿͊͐̒̉̆͐̃͐̈́͆͂͂ͅͅS̷̢̙̺̪̟̜̻͕̖̙̝̞͇̗̲̮̗̋̇̈́͆̔̈̔͗̓̎͗͗͋̀͌͑͜͠͝ ̴̧̨̢̛̪̖̹̥̼͈̼̹̞͉̳̞̤̹̳̝͛̑̄̒̎͛̒̀̐̂̅̿̉̈́̕̕Ǫ̶̹̪͉͈͇͈̭̞̞͍̲̪̰͔̬͚̭̯̽̈́̋̆͆͗̏̄̅͋̉̈́̔̈́̀̚̕̕͠F̷̧̼̻̳̣̯̱͕͉̻̖̫͇͎͓̫̝̫͇̐͆͛͂̿̀̈́̐̍̒͛́͛̌͐̌̐͐ ̷̧̧̢̨̛͉̭͚̞͎͎͔̟͇̩͔̻͕̠̺̒̑̀̉̅̉̾̐̈̅̑̓́̈̌̎̚Ḿ̶͇̼͓̟̰̥̘͚̬̤͎̝̺̘̹̺̄̒͋͛̾̔̒̃̇͐̃̂͆͗̒͌̑̐͜͜Y̷̡̱̤͚̰̪͍̲̫̤̟͔̻̜̺̻͌̈́̇̆̉͐̍͑̔̂̄͛̀̃̋̎͘͜͠͠ͅ ̸̪̹̩̙̬͖̩͙̰̳͖̦̜̣̬̥̘̺͛̽̃̈́̉̐̐̉̎̈́̏̔̃́̾̕͘͠Ç̸̡̠͖̳̬̱͖̳̻͔͕͔̞̜͓̦̻͓̀̾̇́̈̊̆͋̆̏̃͑͆̚̚͘̚Ḣ̶̟͎̠͍̦̩̯͙̞͔̘̟͔̹͚̩̒̀͂͂́͑̑̎̈́̉̌̃͒̅̚̚͝ͅI̷̧̧̧̦̞͎̮̫̮̟̰̲͇̫̮͖͒́̀̏́̀͐͒̒̎̇͐͐̋̉̿̐̓̀͜ͅL̶̢̛̳͙̮͍͔͉͓̦̪̥̮͙͇̼̗̮͆̃̓̓̏̓͌̊͗́͋̓͌̏͝͝͠ͅD̴̡̨̛̛̞̳͖̞̩̖̖̬͇̦̻̗͙͙͍̑͌̅̅̈́̑͊̅̓͑͆̈́́̚̚͜,̴̨̹̯̳̲̫͇͙͇̱̗͖̙͙̦͚̗̦͛̎́̔̄́̎̂͋̀̀̍͛̈́͆̚͝͠ ̵̜̞̝̞̠̜̤̺͈̺̘̠̝̬̪̲͍̦̀̉̃̓̒̉̀͌̿̌̇̽̓̂͌͒͘͘͝P̸̢̡̢͓̞̩̭͚͔̦͓̠̀̈́͊̊̎̐̽͗̈́̎͆̈̊̎̌̋̽̕̕͜͜͜͜͜E̵̢̛͎̤̰͈̞̞̞̳͔̻̱̼̺͖̰̙͑̒̈̈́͆̈̈̀̾̈̂͌̆̕̚̚͝Ŗ̵̺̟͚̮͔͕̘̰̖͈̠̗͔͎̘͎̪̱̄̏̄̄͂̂́̋̓̔̒̈́̇͌͑͆̕͝͠I̶̡̡̨̧͔̮̤̭͔̰͈̼̻̠̭͔̻̠͌̏̇̄̀̐̍́̑̃̔̽̅̂̒̐̾͜͝S̵̡̧͎̘͇̻̺͖͔̣͔̯̠̙̜͈͙͐̊̀͑̐̐̍͌̔͒̽̈́̋͛̐͋̆̔͝H̵̨̬̲̜͉͖̞̳̜̩̰̗̝̭͇̰͖͎̍̀͊̈́̈́̄̔́̈́̏̑̽̅͛̀͋͘͝




an agony of red red red lancing across minds and the words hissed, spat and shrieked in a multitude of voices and languages.

he swooped back and the jet of pure red flame mingled with another bolt of lightning - incinerating another portion of the forest as the corpses began to pile up - one unfortunate, named Perry, to the rosebloods perished in the flames.

[ he's saying 'slayers of my child, perish' basically - also grey gave permission for Perry to die permanently, though this post is oof a lil less good bc of the bad internet here so its kinda rushed / i'll maybe do one more post then have him leave considerin my internet oof. ]