Victory [Rp Story]

[ChainedDragons 1374]

Spoiler

 

Please remember not to meta the information below - enjoy the content

Victory

+=={:::::::::::::::::> Aut Viam Inveniam Aut Faciam <:::::::::::::::::}==+

He had been found. The entity that could have acted like a grandfather stood before him. A bulwark of everything that went wrong within Nickolai's family history. All that pain. All that misery stemmed from one man. A man who was unsatisfied with the bounty life gave him and yet sought to take more. In Nickolai's youth, only fear  existed for the blue tyrant. Along with rules that followed the serpents waking presence. But Nickolai was no longer a child. He was a man. Now the lavender omen sat mounted before the demon king that blocked his path. There was only one course of action to subdue the fear that held Nickolai by the throat all these years. 

Surpass it.

 

Nickolai had managed to hold his own. The omen had delivered hits with his aurum shamshir to the tyrants Prussian blue scales. He had even evaded devastating blows. Yet the man did not remain unscathed. His horse was slaughtered. He was dragged through undergrowth. He was thrown back by the devastating shock-wave of volatile high density steel cracking the road beside him. Nickolai could barely prop himself up, stabbing pains riddled within his chest. 

"You lasted longer than most. You don't have to fight me anymore. You'll never have to worry about anything anymore. For as long as eternity lasts you will exist."

Nickolai could hear the shifting of scales as the blue tyrant bent to his level.

"Watch your children grow to have miserable little lives. I can grant this to you, with a wave of my hand..."

Black blood ran down the omens face as he managed to force out a chuckle.

"Ea do niet need anything from vy... ea have all ea need. Ea have earned all ea need. Vy squandered vyr chance in life.."

Nickolai felt a pressured grasp wrap around his head, forcing him to look up and look Kroza in the eyes. 

"...all your life, you have lived as a composite of what others have told you to be. I am offering you freedom. Freedom from a doomed, wasted existence."

The serpentine head inclined closer to Nickolai's face, the omen making out the details of those unnatural yellow eyes.

"Join Us."

There was a pained hitch in Nickolai's breath as he felt the demon kings grip readjust around his skull. 

"Ea choose eam own way.. eam never  going to make the same mistake vy made... That papaej made.. so.."

 

His voice lowered.

 

"Kiss eam lavender ass."

Nickolai flicked his amatii wrist, the hidden blade emerging as he thrust it into the blue tyrants face. Nickolai felt his head be shoved back as Kroza stumbled back screaming and clawing at his face. The omens black pearls became blurry as his body slumped down into Aldunns leaf littered road. 

Special thanks to @SethWolf for such a cool rp experience and helping further Nicky's character development.
Be sure to read his POV 

Spoiler

 

 

Edited January 22 by ChainedDragons

[Frostdrop1 1843]

A darkened claw skimmed the rim of a tumbler over and over and over again. Travel and isolation had become his means to wade through the scratching chaos of his mind. Glowing marks made themselves known, as did their sting, upon his clench of the glass. He sipped.

Even so, he remained teetering on the edge - always teetering. He was ever-downing under the weight of the sturdy figments his mind had carefully jailed him in and the existential threat that pressed on his mind, ever-growing. Personable desire drove some flicker in him to try again, again. Just one more time, try again. And yet, he wasn't ready. Always was he too ready to dig his claws beneath his skin and tear it off, in hopes to peel away the nightmare with it. He chased every shred of evidence that he wasn't a monster and deserved to be loved, when all he could fixate on what the damage he did and how he didn't fit. What he wished would give him clarity, the inkling of grander, larger hope came with its own fog of enquiry and paining hurdles. Enormous things, that screamed at him to break the things he still loved.

Because they were wrong. Because their meaning was imagined.

His mind still warred to reconcile it all.

The smallest things hit him so heavily, overwhelmed by everything as it was. So, he kept chasing the echo of happiness at the bottom of the glass, hoped his closest would forgive the transgression, prayed to bolster his conviction.


Yet, the boy buried somewhere in him just grieved the father he lost, though he remembered nothing but a whisper of warm fuzz, and the mother he couldn't save and wished they would ease the dread of the path he had set himself. And he hoped his son - who he had not expected, who he had trained in the snow, and who he had laughed and cried with, who he has struggled relentlessly to piece a life together for, who had changed his life in all the best and worst ways, and for who he battled on and on to be the husk of a good father for - was a stronger person than he had proved to be.