PAINT THE SKY — return

[Luca]

he hadn't had a break in a long time. 221 years, to be exact. ever since his first death his life had been a constant cycle of death and rebirth, death and rebirth. pain, darkness, light. the cycle was easy enough to get used to after the thousandth time, but getting used to something was different from enjoying it. as much as he loved the typhoon and his supposed family (he could never believe that he'd made one, despite goldenluxury's insistence), the thing he wanted most in the world was a little rest. that's it, just a break from death and loss and the burning sensation that never stopped its assault on his sensitive skin. at least while he was 'dead', in that limbo state his soul resided in while his body was deemed unfit for return, he could feel nothing at all. no flames licking at his legs, no boiling of his blood. just a calm, cool nothing.

but nothing lasts forever. ironically enough, that included nothing itself. it was only a matter of time before warmth began to creep into the center of his body. gentle at first, then growing into the violence he was used to. phantom flesh smoked and charred, and luca grit still-forming teeth to bite back an anguished growl. he hated this part the most, the slow return of his nerves and all that torment that they brought with them. soon he would grow used to it, the touch of his companions would sooth the flames, and the energy he gathered from their affections would extinguish it completely. but now, while he was starving and completely drained of energy, there was nothing he could put towards lessening the pain.

from the outside perspective of the pirates, it would start about now. a stray ember glittering among the sands before erupting spontaneously into flame. larger and larger did this flame grow, center glowing white and the edges stained a familiar shade of pink. only when it found itself the size of your average wolf would it change again, slowly taking shape into a form many would recognize without trouble. even when made of nothing but fire, those unusually shaped wings and long spaded tail were once seen often around the golden sands of the typhoon. a form had been finalized, and only then did the flames begin to die. behind them they left ruddy brown fur and sleek enhancements; two wax-like wings, still wet and melting at the tips, and a glossy pink tail.

luca collapsed as he finally found himself solid and alive once more, the brightness of the typhoon blinding after months of nothing but darkness. he lay on the ground, paws over his eyes and claws digging deep into his muzzle, trying to gather himself before bringing his hellfire-ridden body to move. — burn with me, heaven's on fire