07-15-2018, 11:13 PM
WHO IS IN CONTROL?
CAIN PENDRAGON — For days, something had been itching at the back of his thoughts.
He couldn't say with any sort of certainty what it was or what was going on. The realm was restless, shifting in the night, curling tightly around his ankles as he walked through the city during the day; it nagged at him, pulling, withering in a way that he hadn't felt since he was a teenager and inexperienced with his abilities. It was making him restless in return, seeking something to sink his teeth into, to unleash chaotic energy on. It seemed to get worse and worse with each passing day, and he was having to fight harder to keep it under his heel, to remind it of who its master was.
He knew it was her the second she crossed his parameters, that long-lost but familiar aura pinging on his radar as something dark erupted in his chest. Malkyn. He had never really understood what it was that tied them together, had no words for the strange connection he felt to her, the pulsating energy in her presence -- he had never known what it was, and for years he'd been convinced she was dead. Dead, just like all the others. But there it was, live, screaming in his head, and he was moving before he knew it, wispy shadows rising up around his legs and twining around his body as he vanished from his meeting room.
He came striding out of frothing darkness with the same sort of set determination, his sea-green stare locked on the alpha. There was something else there, something pulling at his attention, something screaming at him to look to the left, but there was a louder voice demanding that he stare this girl down. He stepped right in front of her horse, heedless to those who had gathered, and stared up at her with darkness on his tongue as he said lowly, "Malkyn."
[size=12px][b]DREAMWALKER — HARBINGER OF CHAOS — SILVERTONGUEHe couldn't say with any sort of certainty what it was or what was going on. The realm was restless, shifting in the night, curling tightly around his ankles as he walked through the city during the day; it nagged at him, pulling, withering in a way that he hadn't felt since he was a teenager and inexperienced with his abilities. It was making him restless in return, seeking something to sink his teeth into, to unleash chaotic energy on. It seemed to get worse and worse with each passing day, and he was having to fight harder to keep it under his heel, to remind it of who its master was.
He knew it was her the second she crossed his parameters, that long-lost but familiar aura pinging on his radar as something dark erupted in his chest. Malkyn. He had never really understood what it was that tied them together, had no words for the strange connection he felt to her, the pulsating energy in her presence -- he had never known what it was, and for years he'd been convinced she was dead. Dead, just like all the others. But there it was, live, screaming in his head, and he was moving before he knew it, wispy shadows rising up around his legs and twining around his body as he vanished from his meeting room.
He came striding out of frothing darkness with the same sort of set determination, his sea-green stare locked on the alpha. There was something else there, something pulling at his attention, something screaming at him to look to the left, but there was a louder voice demanding that he stare this girl down. He stepped right in front of her horse, heedless to those who had gathered, and stared up at her with darkness on his tongue as he said lowly, "Malkyn."
© MADI
CAINSMARK PENDRAGON IS THE FORMER LEADER LIVING OUT RETIREMENT WITH HIS WIFE AND HUSBAND IN THE ROSEBLOODS UNDER THE NAME MORTEM. HE IS THE HARBINGER OF CHAOS, ENTHRALLED BY VENUS, AND KING OF THE DREAM REALM. HE MERGED SOULS WITH HOSPITALFLOWERS AND IS THE MASTER OF MALKYN. BIO.
[b]DO YOU FEEL LIKE A YOUNG GOD? [sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup]
[b]DO YOU FEEL LIKE A YOUNG GOD? [sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup]