in the distance, there's a bright, blinding blue light. it's like a bomb went off - explosive enough to cut through the darkness of the fog.
the shadowy hands writhe and start to multiply, grabbing onto datz's clothes, his body. one grabs across his face, claws digging into to try and pull, pull, pull. it's desperation, now, trying to yank him backwards, pull him into something.
how good is your willpower, datz are'bal?
if you fall into the shadows, if you join the darkness, you never have to worry. you can see the people you've lost all over again. you can mire into your regrets.
or, you can throw yourself forward, against the shadows, and run towards the light. the lantern in your hand flickers again.
[ if he gives up now, he's got no business showing his face in front of any of his old comrades ever again, so as far as he's concerned that's no offer at all.
so he is absolutely pulling himself forward out of the grasp of those hands, no matter how many claw marks they leave on him in the process, and he'll hack away with that dagger of his again if he needs to. ]
[ datz, you are tough, aren't you? you are unbreakable. you are unafraid, and you know who you are. you know the darkness, and the way that it creeps in, the way it harms. you know to be a revolutionary is to be a light.
as a claw rakes across your left eye, leaving a stinging, sharp scratch that will not take away your entire eyeball because i said no, you manage to hack, and slash, and stab at the hands, over, and over, and over. and with sheer determination, sheer datz are'bal energy, you shove forward, bleeding and cut up but alive.
the light in your lantern flares. white. blue. the monster shrieks, taking damage - there's a violent clash of purple shadow and blue light and then, like a bat out of hell, you break free.
THE TRUTH LIES IN THE FLAME.
in the distance, you can see the door to a temple. the air is wet and humid - this is a jungle, you've been dragged to, and the temple rises ominously in the distance. more than that, though, you can see ponta clinging onto the entrance of the temple for absolute dear life.
in your hand, you realize, you're clutching a sheet of paper. but maybe that will be relevant after you save ponta from getting his legs ripped off by an evil shadow. ]
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no subject
in the distance, there's a bright, blinding blue light. it's like a bomb went off - explosive enough to cut through the darkness of the fog.
the shadowy hands writhe and start to multiply, grabbing onto datz's clothes, his body. one grabs across his face, claws digging into to try and pull, pull, pull. it's desperation, now, trying to yank him backwards, pull him into something.
how good is your willpower, datz are'bal?
if you fall into the shadows, if you join the darkness, you never have to worry. you can see the people you've lost all over again. you can mire into your regrets.
or, you can throw yourself forward, against the shadows, and run towards the light. the lantern in your hand flickers again.
a voice - unfamiliar, this time, asks:
...Will o' the dragon? ]
no subject
so he is absolutely pulling himself forward out of the grasp of those hands, no matter how many claw marks they leave on him in the process, and he'll hack away with that dagger of his again if he needs to. ]
That's what I said! What's it to ya?
no subject
as a claw rakes across your left eye, leaving a stinging, sharp scratch that will not take away your entire eyeball because i said no, you manage to hack, and slash, and stab at the hands, over, and over, and over. and with sheer determination, sheer datz are'bal energy, you shove forward, bleeding and cut up but alive.
the light in your lantern flares. white. blue. the monster shrieks, taking damage - there's a violent clash of purple shadow and blue light and then, like a bat out of hell, you break free.
THE TRUTH LIES IN THE FLAME.
in the distance, you can see the door to a temple. the air is wet and humid - this is a jungle, you've been dragged to, and the temple rises ominously in the distance. more than that, though, you can see ponta clinging onto the entrance of the temple for absolute dear life.
in your hand, you realize, you're clutching a sheet of paper. but maybe that will be relevant after you save ponta from getting his legs ripped off by an evil shadow. ]