11-07-2020, 12:19 PM
Peace, was such a vague concept. Quiet mornings with the sun rising in the distance, the warmth of it radiating off of their scales, the sound of the water's edge, washing against the tide of the ocean. Argus craved peace once. Found peace, cherished it even. There were times for peace and times for war. When the static in their heads was nothing more than noise to the screams and shrills of battle cries. Argus was a two sided coin, as any other animal, creature: they craved peace and war in equal measure, craved the ability to unleash their buildup of power before it crested into something uncontrollable.
They were made for war, built from an early age with scars marring their pelt, now they hung around their form like the trophies they were meant to be: flashed like beacons of a warning sign: I have won, beyond what life had demanded me to cower. Argus wanted to roar into the swamp that night that the Coalition had taken the Tanglewood. Yet there were promises to be made, kept. Argus had told their kingpin that they would ruin the Tanglewood. That the bunkers would be scant but ruin, and Argus planned to do just that.
Their blood, their loyalty demanded nothing less.
It was a shame, that a distraction would crest over the horizon that day.
The cry of aururm's voice called to them, the very sense of awareness they felt a stirring. Something woke up, at the edges of their mind, and it was known as a different name, but here it bore the mask of Argus with a grin. Crooked fangs gleaming white, war cresting against the horizon. Argus shook their own half burned frame, ten glittering eyes watching the small lion shift, morph into the barest tinge of a challenge for them. A shutter, excitement rutted through their scaled form, monstrous and grotesque, they rose to their full height and let loose a roar of challenge.
War was another beast entirely, it called for blood it demanded a sacrifice. Innocence for power, Trust and loyalty for awareness. Blood for blood, so long as the rule of beasts reign there would always be a demand for blood. For the ruin and havoc. Argus was born to war, eons ago. When this island lay undiscovered to them beyond the great span of the sea, the very place they had hailed from was nothing but ruin now.
In the night Argus rose like a ghost to the challenge. Argus was battle weary, tired in ways that could not be explained when something else took hold. In the center of their chest bore a mark of shadow ink void. A crater within flesh where a hole punched through them entirely.
Like a tide, a wave descending of furywraithinsanity they lunged for the throat of of [member=6881]aurum.[/member] within their sights as their translucent fangs aimed to lock around. With the force Argus aimed to rip the other down onto the ground. Wings to grasp at the ground to keep both of them locked in the trance, while their claws came to rend at the expense of the rest of their throat.
Any contact made down on the wyrm had the beast's body natural response as Argus' mind sent forth a torrent of fury. A shirking siren call of static loud and potent enough akin to a dog whistle. Let it linger in the mind until the battle was over, till they were still under their claws and their mind was truly and fully dead.
[table][tr][td]They were made for war, built from an early age with scars marring their pelt, now they hung around their form like the trophies they were meant to be: flashed like beacons of a warning sign: I have won, beyond what life had demanded me to cower. Argus wanted to roar into the swamp that night that the Coalition had taken the Tanglewood. Yet there were promises to be made, kept. Argus had told their kingpin that they would ruin the Tanglewood. That the bunkers would be scant but ruin, and Argus planned to do just that.
Their blood, their loyalty demanded nothing less.
It was a shame, that a distraction would crest over the horizon that day.
The cry of aururm's voice called to them, the very sense of awareness they felt a stirring. Something woke up, at the edges of their mind, and it was known as a different name, but here it bore the mask of Argus with a grin. Crooked fangs gleaming white, war cresting against the horizon. Argus shook their own half burned frame, ten glittering eyes watching the small lion shift, morph into the barest tinge of a challenge for them. A shutter, excitement rutted through their scaled form, monstrous and grotesque, they rose to their full height and let loose a roar of challenge.
War was another beast entirely, it called for blood it demanded a sacrifice. Innocence for power, Trust and loyalty for awareness. Blood for blood, so long as the rule of beasts reign there would always be a demand for blood. For the ruin and havoc. Argus was born to war, eons ago. When this island lay undiscovered to them beyond the great span of the sea, the very place they had hailed from was nothing but ruin now.
In the night Argus rose like a ghost to the challenge. Argus was battle weary, tired in ways that could not be explained when something else took hold. In the center of their chest bore a mark of shadow ink void. A crater within flesh where a hole punched through them entirely.
Like a tide, a wave descending of furywraithinsanity they lunged for the throat of of [member=6881]aurum.[/member] within their sights as their translucent fangs aimed to lock around. With the force Argus aimed to rip the other down onto the ground. Wings to grasp at the ground to keep both of them locked in the trance, while their claws came to rend at the expense of the rest of their throat.
Any contact made down on the wyrm had the beast's body natural response as Argus' mind sent forth a torrent of fury. A shirking siren call of static loud and potent enough akin to a dog whistle. Let it linger in the mind until the battle was over, till they were still under their claws and their mind was truly and fully dead.
![[Image: kbDRDDJ.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/kbDRDDJ.gif)
"Standing in the afterimage of who you used to be graceless fumbling rage, standing within the eye's of the storm and an itch from the edges of a storm. Argus is painted in mercy and her lack of action; the only thing kept their enemies out of dragons breath is care. Sonder painting the mask of a monster; does not change what they are at the core. ruthless"