breaking every habit // joining(some blood)

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[color=#151B54]JERISIDIE
" eyes prettier than sin ... "

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blood dripping down jaws wrenched apart by some preternatural strength. bodies laid around his paws, his eyes closed as he reveled in the carnage and chaos of his existence. he could feel their fear running like an aphrodisiac in his blood. smiling a ruthless grin he opened rich purple eyes flecked by gold to gaze at the corpses. this? this was what he was meant to be. it had only taken a matter of time before he awakened truthfully from the deepest parts of his own mind. there was reason to lock him away, after all.

"well sh----t. don't tell me that's all you've got in you, doll-face." he drawled, thick pale claws digging into the bloodied sand beneath his paws. his pelt was covered in scars, blood matting the fur of his shoulders into spikes and showed off hidden markings. he had awoken, no longer the gentle fool he had played at being for years. having your soul-bond die a messy death in front of you tends to do that to a person. it only turned out this bad because that loss had removed the last of his foolish inhibitions and showed him once more as to why the mortals should be disregarded and enslaved.

he was one of the hell generals, granted his own title and domain bacj in his true home, his throne as a "king of hell". he was no longer the bumbling fool named jikai that he had pretended to be, a man so helpless to prevent his own lover from falling into the icy grip of death. the plant witch was gone, leaving in his stead the truthful monster that a hero had once loved in the guise of a harmless man.

jerisidie was free now, seeking a place to call his own after he had gleefully exacted his revenge on the bastards that had taken his once-lover from him. he supposed that he owed them for the strength to awaken again. it had been years since he had last enjoyed himself amidst the glories of battle. now he was free to do so, hunting down the remnants of the group of killers as they ran from him, from the demon that they had awoken.

the body below him belonged to one of those killers, mangled and close to death, his handiwork. a bloody mark had been scored into the body's back, that of a demonic ram head. jerisidie stood over the body, glaring as he brought his paw down in a cleaving gesture, killing the one beneath him. he smiled beneath his mask as ichor splashed across the cracked skull mask that he wore, eyes gleaming with a madness. he had been headed for the pitt when he had stumbled across this camp of survivors from the initial attack.