Angel Boy
Beaux
Caught up inside, both happy and lonely
Job: B-Rank Exam
Post Word Count: 520
Exam Word Count: 520/1,000
Muse: 12/10
Music: Circles
Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)
Post Word Count: 520
Exam Word Count: 520/1,000
Muse: 12/10
Music: Circles
Items Used IC/OOC: Item 1, Item 2
Active Spells: Spell 1 (Duration: x/x)
Sunlight began to peek into the city of Era. The rays illuminated the tops of the tallest buildings, slowly making its way down into the streets as dawn progressed. With the light came people. Cityfolk began to stir, waking to start their days. The city slowly came to life. Cool night air was whisked away by the heat of the sun. The nocturnal creatures stowed away in their dens, awaiting darkness once more. The light brought beginnings to the city, drumming up life in a formerly quiet establishment.
Yet, not everything in Era was as bright and peaceful in the morning light. Despair and sinisterity lurked. A figure hung limply from the front of the Rune Knight headquarters. Light highlighted the edge of hundreds of feathers, formerly a pristine white. Drip, drip. Crimson streaks marred the pure color into a dappled canvas of brown, red, and white. The large wings from which a man hung were pinned into the wall with bone spurs that protruded like gnarly nails. Through the rips in his clothing, bruises were visible. The marks had become a dark purple and black after having time to deteriorate. This angel, just recently so lively and healthy, hung like a limp ragdoll. Tear stains wove down his pale cheeks, creating a stark path against the blood and grime on his face. He was a gruesome sight that greeted whomever may approach, an omen of warning. The symbol carved into the stone below him was a calling card. Its intent was to tease and taunt, proudly claiming ownership to the broken body above.
Beaux had been unconscious for a while. The pain was constant, pulsing through his torso and wings with each beat of his heart. Even in his comatose state, his nerves felt every movement, every kiss of the breeze against open wound and sensitive flesh. After Sanguine had left, the struggle to stay awake was quickly lost. What was the point? Someone was bound to find him eventually, dead or alive.
The sunlight began to heat the angel’s skin. It slowly pulled him to the waking world like a horse would pull a cart up a hill. It struggled, pulled, shoved with the effort as the man’s body resisted. The muscle and bone needed to heal so his mind resisted, but at last gave in. Baby blue eyes crept open to a blank lidded stare. It was a while before they moved, taking in the sunlit scene around. Beaux blinked slowly. He was enjoying the warmth. It was a small pleasure to be had in the situation he was in.
The memory of Sanguine’s predatory gaze flashed through his mind. Icy blue eyes with slitted pupils stared into his soul. Beaux’s eyes shot open wide as a rush of fear and adrenaline shot through him. His heart began to beat and he gasped for air. Pain shot through his broken ribs, but the terror kept him inhaling anyway. Panic filled the angel as he glanced around desperately. He had to get away from the terrors in his mind. “H-help!” he wheezed. “Is anyone around? Help me please!”
Yet, not everything in Era was as bright and peaceful in the morning light. Despair and sinisterity lurked. A figure hung limply from the front of the Rune Knight headquarters. Light highlighted the edge of hundreds of feathers, formerly a pristine white. Drip, drip. Crimson streaks marred the pure color into a dappled canvas of brown, red, and white. The large wings from which a man hung were pinned into the wall with bone spurs that protruded like gnarly nails. Through the rips in his clothing, bruises were visible. The marks had become a dark purple and black after having time to deteriorate. This angel, just recently so lively and healthy, hung like a limp ragdoll. Tear stains wove down his pale cheeks, creating a stark path against the blood and grime on his face. He was a gruesome sight that greeted whomever may approach, an omen of warning. The symbol carved into the stone below him was a calling card. Its intent was to tease and taunt, proudly claiming ownership to the broken body above.
Beaux had been unconscious for a while. The pain was constant, pulsing through his torso and wings with each beat of his heart. Even in his comatose state, his nerves felt every movement, every kiss of the breeze against open wound and sensitive flesh. After Sanguine had left, the struggle to stay awake was quickly lost. What was the point? Someone was bound to find him eventually, dead or alive.
The sunlight began to heat the angel’s skin. It slowly pulled him to the waking world like a horse would pull a cart up a hill. It struggled, pulled, shoved with the effort as the man’s body resisted. The muscle and bone needed to heal so his mind resisted, but at last gave in. Baby blue eyes crept open to a blank lidded stare. It was a while before they moved, taking in the sunlit scene around. Beaux blinked slowly. He was enjoying the warmth. It was a small pleasure to be had in the situation he was in.
The memory of Sanguine’s predatory gaze flashed through his mind. Icy blue eyes with slitted pupils stared into his soul. Beaux’s eyes shot open wide as a rush of fear and adrenaline shot through him. His heart began to beat and he gasped for air. Pain shot through his broken ribs, but the terror kept him inhaling anyway. Panic filled the angel as he glanced around desperately. He had to get away from the terrors in his mind. “H-help!” he wheezed. “Is anyone around? Help me please!”
IVYLEAF33