pfp by cloovrd on here Ghostwalker parody account !! NO ASSOCIATION WITH BOGGIO !! Don't mind mentions of a child, it's not canon, I just have an oc :tearful:
- Tweets76
- Following7
- Followers23
- Likes104
ALT The large door shut with a quiet, yet noticeable thud as Ghostwalker stepped into the “room.” He stared in the direction of Venomshank for a moment before carefully walking toward his cage and continuing to stare. Though his expression was blank, as always, his body language showed a more empathetic tone. His hands were clasped behind his back while his shoulders relaxed. He looked at his brother with a want to say something, but no will to say it. As if worried he would be the cause for another uproar.
ALT This was a cruel and claustrophobic punishment, denying It freedom— the boon It sought dangled just out of Its reach, having escaped The General’s hold just to be taunted with another cage. Even more damning was how empty the world around It was. Hunger burning into Its stomach, It sought above nearly all else something to eat; to infect and twist into part of Itself— but there was nothing. There were things, yes: The walls seemed to reach upwards into infinity, large doors taunting escape in front the bubble that kept it there, but nothing alive. At first, The Beast hadn’t accepted It’s confinement, Clawing until It’s hands had burned away, only for the wound to bubble and expand further, using all it could to try and break His seal; bone, tooth, muscle and rot; bashing It’s body against it again and again and again and again until it couldn’t anymore.
ALT It had screamed and yowled and rattled It’s stolen voices. When those had failed It too, hoarse and torn with use, It was left with nothing. Such silence would only be temporary, of course. It would rise to tear itself apart and scream again. It always would. The airborne of The Blight had settled across the sliver of space between It and Venomshank’s confines, mostly inert for the most part; although air passed freely through the strands of soulstuff, They too were denied any escape. The rest of Them were burrowed deep into the flesh of The Beast, biting and siphoning energy from It in lieu of there being nothing else to sustain itself. They dare not use Sisyphus, the poor bird. She was cradled in some air pocket within the beast— its lung. She’s been through quite enough; It was one of the few things they all seemed to agree on. The General was quiet.
ALT It did not care, shutting Its eyes again to rest. … Something had approached It.
