07-16-2018, 05:41 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]Why do you run when they are in your reach?
"Because I am not strong enough, not yet."
And I will make your stronger dear boy - you will pick them out of your teeth when we are done.
Felix has much time to converse with Orthax on his way to the Typhoon. He makes the journey alone in a small boat with enough rations to make the trip but no more. It's days out on the sea, watching the waves go by as he talks to the voice in his head as it was real. Orthax does not like to be ignored after all, burrowing his way underneath the lone heir's skin until he can no longer claw it out.
The two are linked, inseparable. Felix Fredrick Tarqin de Borel, the last surviving son of the Lord of Whitestone, is now adrift at sea with only a demon for company. One that sings a song sweet to a man driven mad by the promise of revenge. To hurt what once hurt you, my boy. is what he promises, something to give the man power back over something in his life since that day.
Orthax found him in the pits of his despair, languishing in prison with no hope of escape. It was either break, submit, come to heel like a dog before the Briarwoods like they had done to Carrine or die. Either way, they would have fun with him, they promised. He remembers Delilah's face, smiling in joy as she scarred him. It is her that he hates most of all, her husband was horrible but nowhere near as capricious as her. She took pleasure in hurting him, showing him Carrine calling her mother.
When he thinks of it, Orthax is all to happy to remind him that if he wanted to give into the demon, none of them would stand a chance. Felix can topple head first into the violence and tear them all apart limb from limb with Orthax's aid. But no - he wants to do it personally. No mad rage, no mindless carnage, no. He wants to take them apart piece by piece, play with them like they played with him.
The thoughts play on repeat for the days whilst he is at sea. The two bicker and agree, one out of anger and one out of hunger. No matter what Felix chooses, the demon will get his due. He will always get his due - and if Felix strays too far away from his path, he will be there to encourage him back to what drove him to improve in the first place. After all, Orthax has one bargaining chip that nothing can replace.
Orthax can make Felix mortal again. Not a vampire, not a blood sucking monster, but a normal wolf once again. But it is not in his nature to give that for free.
When he finally arrives on the shores of the Typhoon, he is waiting for someone to come and find him. He chooses not to wear his mask, the plague doctor mask might give an impression of him which is all too accurate. Felix wants to be accepted, not turned away as a madman.
As a madman. The idea made him chuckle. Had he truly gone mad? Perhaps the darkness that spoke to him wasn't real after all. Perhaps he had gone completely mad, completely hysteric. That is what trauma did to certain people, and he had endured enough to break. He doesn't dwell on it for very long though, and goes walking along the beach to try and find another soul.
"Because I am not strong enough, not yet."
And I will make your stronger dear boy - you will pick them out of your teeth when we are done.
Felix has much time to converse with Orthax on his way to the Typhoon. He makes the journey alone in a small boat with enough rations to make the trip but no more. It's days out on the sea, watching the waves go by as he talks to the voice in his head as it was real. Orthax does not like to be ignored after all, burrowing his way underneath the lone heir's skin until he can no longer claw it out.
The two are linked, inseparable. Felix Fredrick Tarqin de Borel, the last surviving son of the Lord of Whitestone, is now adrift at sea with only a demon for company. One that sings a song sweet to a man driven mad by the promise of revenge. To hurt what once hurt you, my boy. is what he promises, something to give the man power back over something in his life since that day.
Orthax found him in the pits of his despair, languishing in prison with no hope of escape. It was either break, submit, come to heel like a dog before the Briarwoods like they had done to Carrine or die. Either way, they would have fun with him, they promised. He remembers Delilah's face, smiling in joy as she scarred him. It is her that he hates most of all, her husband was horrible but nowhere near as capricious as her. She took pleasure in hurting him, showing him Carrine calling her mother.
When he thinks of it, Orthax is all to happy to remind him that if he wanted to give into the demon, none of them would stand a chance. Felix can topple head first into the violence and tear them all apart limb from limb with Orthax's aid. But no - he wants to do it personally. No mad rage, no mindless carnage, no. He wants to take them apart piece by piece, play with them like they played with him.
The thoughts play on repeat for the days whilst he is at sea. The two bicker and agree, one out of anger and one out of hunger. No matter what Felix chooses, the demon will get his due. He will always get his due - and if Felix strays too far away from his path, he will be there to encourage him back to what drove him to improve in the first place. After all, Orthax has one bargaining chip that nothing can replace.
Orthax can make Felix mortal again. Not a vampire, not a blood sucking monster, but a normal wolf once again. But it is not in his nature to give that for free.
When he finally arrives on the shores of the Typhoon, he is waiting for someone to come and find him. He chooses not to wear his mask, the plague doctor mask might give an impression of him which is all too accurate. Felix wants to be accepted, not turned away as a madman.
As a madman. The idea made him chuckle. Had he truly gone mad? Perhaps the darkness that spoke to him wasn't real after all. Perhaps he had gone completely mad, completely hysteric. That is what trauma did to certain people, and he had endured enough to break. He doesn't dwell on it for very long though, and goes walking along the beach to try and find another soul.
[b]IT'S EASIER TO BURY MY HEAD IN THE SAND SOMETIMES. AND I KNOW IT'S NOT THE RIGHT WAY TO GO BUT I PRAY THE GROUND WOULD SWALLOW ME WHOLE. — lucia & alisaie / inactive / playing ff14