11-26-2014, 08:56 AM
Damien’s eyes widened as patterns of red fire looped through the air towards him and his guard. The others shied away from the heat, dropping their weapons. Damien remained steadfast as the wall of heat engulfed him. The spreading fire licked the edges of his coat singeing the delicate material.
Mockingbird clawed like a madman while raving. His words held less interest than the pattern that emanated from his body. It was the same as his own power of Light. Why could he see it so clearly now when he had not done so before? The possibilities were many but the smoke curling from his cuffs demanded his immediate attention.
Curious now, Damien lifted his assault. The reprieve was no kindness. On the heels of his withdrawal he formed a blade of ethereal Light just as he had done with Spectra. This time there was no blind slices of desperation. He could see the patterns winding clearly and struck with forceful precision, slicing through each with overwhelming strength that the Mockingbird either hid or did not possess.
Just as Spectra had done the Mockingbird staggered as his fire was snuffed out. Damien used the pause to thread another pattern of his own. Smoke rolled from his clothing to match his eyes of flared anger like an angel of judgement descended to earth.
“I asked one thing of you, Mockingbird,”
he said, propriety discarded. “I accommodated your wishes and you defy my simple request. My hospitality has run its course. This game is over.”
When the Mockingbird looked up he would find a spear of jagged flame inches from his heart.
Mockingbird clawed like a madman while raving. His words held less interest than the pattern that emanated from his body. It was the same as his own power of Light. Why could he see it so clearly now when he had not done so before? The possibilities were many but the smoke curling from his cuffs demanded his immediate attention.
Curious now, Damien lifted his assault. The reprieve was no kindness. On the heels of his withdrawal he formed a blade of ethereal Light just as he had done with Spectra. This time there was no blind slices of desperation. He could see the patterns winding clearly and struck with forceful precision, slicing through each with overwhelming strength that the Mockingbird either hid or did not possess.
Just as Spectra had done the Mockingbird staggered as his fire was snuffed out. Damien used the pause to thread another pattern of his own. Smoke rolled from his clothing to match his eyes of flared anger like an angel of judgement descended to earth.
“I asked one thing of you, Mockingbird,”
he said, propriety discarded. “I accommodated your wishes and you defy my simple request. My hospitality has run its course. This game is over.”
When the Mockingbird looked up he would find a spear of jagged flame inches from his heart.