Log in

09 March 2006 @ 10:32 pm
jrhda and ky, brothers intwined.  
Ok hears the start of my characters story, feel free to jump in. Oh and I just noticed the text isnt in italic like it was on the board, any idead how to do italc text hear?

OOC - In thought and speach, ordinary text denotes Jrhda's personality, Italic text denotes Ky's personality. 'Single blubs' around text denotes characters own thoughts. "Double blubs" denotes speach out loud.


A storm was brewing over the bleak mounatins on which kneeled the panting form of a night clad elvish being. The rumbeling of the aproaching storm echoed the growling breaths that they rasped in and out. The blood of the bastards scatted around them looked so rank and dark in encroaching stormy murk, liken to filth. Not that there was anyone around to care that the ashy wastland of the old volcano was now strewn with a gory paste of blood, bone and black feathers.

They had got them all, every one of the slimy little bastards. Raising there head they sniffed the rank air now charged with the storms emerging power, opening there eyes as the first bolt of bile yellow lance cracked the sky with electric fire. They smiled grimly at the answering flash of light from there drawn daggers, dull and thick to the hilts with congealing blood.

'The storm aproches brother. [I] Yes, yes, yes! And it will be the cherry on our little bloody slice of cake, can we fly J, can we can we can we! [/I] I don't know brother, I grow weary of this. [I] I WANT TO FLY YOU SAID WE WOULD I KILLED FOR YOU SO WE COULD I WANT TO FLY I WANT TO FLY!!! [/I] Ky, you fool, shut up your blubbering pie hole or we'll do nothing at all. So silent brother..... you truly wish to fly then? [I] yes. [/I] Gods know why.

They rose, wipeing the dark blood from the blades before they sheathed them. Another bailful flash pearched the moment, and they turned to the crumbled side wall of the old volcano, judging the drop of the shear cliff.

'You fling and i'll catch brother, how does that sound?' The low purring growl would have been heard, if there was anyone to hear its supressed revelry. [I] 'oh yes brother, fine by me, as long as i get the rest of the ride too, it no fair if you get all the fun.' [/I]

And so the elvish being dashed in a headlong mad rush to meet the enraged air or the bottomless cragy raveen. They leaped just as they hit the edge, sumasulting and then swan diveing into the boiling turbulence.

[I] "YAAAAAAAHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAA!!" [/I] there wildly shouted challenged was ripped away from there throat as they droped like a stone and a were viciously spun by the treacherous winds. Buffeted and bulled by the storm they dropped further and further, gaining speed. Then, when fully shouded in the storm cloud they were passing though, Jrhda waited until the moment the largest storm strike yet was to birth and howled in unison with it as he changed there form from elvish to Dragon.

The great black wings beat out and were wrenched by the wind they battled against, while masive halos of electric gouted from the toothy maw that spiraled downwards out of the rageing clouds. They spun madly as they flew the ever changeing riptides of the thunderheads, whipping up great deluges of wicked quicksliver fire with there own lightening.

The artificialy intencified storm ploughed onwards, out of the dead mountain passes and aproached the forests and lush vallies beyond. Niether of them cared in there blood driven frenzy, that the bolts of fire were now starting to rain down on forest and farmstead. They just screached in wild hyteria, meserised, and reveling in the new stench of burning that began to choak the sky.

'....the forest is burning love... we must hurry....' that desperate heart wrending plea from the past struck them to the core and they could do naught but fall from the sky as best they could.

"AMARANTHEA!" the heart rent howl of rememberace crashed into the air, just as they did the deap lake.

The storm quieted, and the rain poured down on the burning flora. The last waves from the great wyrms fall pushed the mindless, battered elvish form to the rocky shore, breathing, but barely.