belthazar spellscry | ch(i)ef tsundere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
arcanepower) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsilium2012-11-05 12:55 am
arcanepower) wrote in exsilium2012-11-05 12:55 am
[ RAGEQUIT ]
[video]
[The room shown on the feed is sparse, bearing a cot and a small dresser. It's early morning or very late evening depending on who you talk to. The only source of light is a small lamp sitting on the desk beside the device, which does much to illuminate the small, skinny figure beside it. Actually, scratch that-- he's got glowing green eyes.]
It's not enough. [His voice is young and bitter with a searing edge of desperation. And his face is pretty much the same.] It's not enough!
[He stares hard at the pile of books and papers on his desk, then reaches over and grabs something. Whatever it is, it's small enough to fit in his hand. His eyes flare brightly, sickly green and hot; he opens his palm, and nothing but dust remains.]
Do you hear me, Initiative?! THIS ISN'T ENOUGH!
[His voice cracks, and that's the last straw for him. He swipes everything off the desk, lamp included, in one swift and violent display of anger. The lamp goes out, and the network feed ends.]
[ooc: Roommates, feel free to barge in if you want. Or... go back to sleep. lol. OTHERWISE OPEN TO ALL. he's been a bit of a hermit since the intro log and um... well, that was a couple weeks ago. |D]
[The room shown on the feed is sparse, bearing a cot and a small dresser. It's early morning or very late evening depending on who you talk to. The only source of light is a small lamp sitting on the desk beside the device, which does much to illuminate the small, skinny figure beside it. Actually, scratch that-- he's got glowing green eyes.]
It's not enough. [His voice is young and bitter with a searing edge of desperation. And his face is pretty much the same.] It's not enough!
[He stares hard at the pile of books and papers on his desk, then reaches over and grabs something. Whatever it is, it's small enough to fit in his hand. His eyes flare brightly, sickly green and hot; he opens his palm, and nothing but dust remains.]
Do you hear me, Initiative?! THIS ISN'T ENOUGH!
[His voice cracks, and that's the last straw for him. He swipes everything off the desk, lamp included, in one swift and violent display of anger. The lamp goes out, and the network feed ends.]
[ooc: Roommates, feel free to barge in if you want. Or... go back to sleep. lol. OTHERWISE OPEN TO ALL. he's been a bit of a hermit since the intro log and um... well, that was a couple weeks ago. |D]
action;
We need to control ourselves here. But it's no good to suffer so, either.
action forever;
It does hurt. He can stand the pain for a few more days, but he can't really function at his best without some help. Help that he loathes asking for. So he stares at Adra from just a few feet away, knees pulled to his chest, all defensive and no grace.]
We can't keep doing this forever.
no subject
[he creates a gem, luminous with contained magical power. Adrasteius has it to spare in his veins, and he's glad to share--glad to do anything to assuage this boy's suffering. It's no more or less than what he would for anyone else, but he already feels a protective instinct with regard to Belthazar. And he can already tell enough about the boy to know that he needs to exercise this instinct carefully.
He offers the gem on an open palm and speaks softly. It shimmers brightly in the darkness, along with the lines of Adra's tattoos, which are deep violet and pulsing slowly.]
This will help.
no subject
He stares at the mana gem, then Adra and his tattoos. He's hesitant as always. He's never had to ask anyone for a favor like this, and he sure as hell doesn't get nice things done for him. He's never been worth anything.
Yet Adra is giving of his own mana freely, and part of Belth wants to latch onto that, take advantage of it and be selfish and do more than survive. But that's not the first thing that floats to the top of his mind.]
What about you? ['Who will help you when you need it?']
no subject
[The truth is that Adrasteius doesn't really know what he's going to do. He also doesn't care, at least not yet. He's a discipline priest for a reason: even though circumstances prevented him from refusing to drink the demonic magic in the first place, he's struggled and fought and clawed in his way into a state where his magic addiction is extremely tightly controlled. He can't erase it, though, and he knows it will be a problem eventually. Soon, even.
But the point remains that he has magic to spare. His blood teems with it; his tattoos seethe with the effort of keeping its potential locked down. He will give of himself to Belthazar, give as much as the boy needs. He will not abide this boy's pain.
The gem glows invitingly.]
no subject
Don't be foolish. We will need to address the problem and soon.
[What he would give for someone who actually had an ounce of leadership in them. Someone who wasn't wrapped up in the court dances of Silvermoon City. Or, you know, Kael'thas. His dreams of being that leader-- of being a powerful mage in the Kirin Tor, inspiring his people to change-- feel so distant now, and he can barely form the images in his head.
His hands are disturbingly pale and thin; they tremble beneath the worn edges of his robe. He considers declining for a brief moment, but it's already in his hand and he's already in pain. And it will only get worse. Maybe it is bearable now, but given time, he will become a wretch. And given more time, he could actually become Wretched.
His eyes blaze with felfire. Within seconds, he's taken what he needs to stave off the hunger, and there is still some light left in the luminous gem. The urge to drain it dry is still there. It will always be there: that is what makes it an addiction.
The boy lets out a shaky breath, halfway between relief and fear.]