Angels fall from the sky, I rise from the bottom.

There was seclusion found when the mist wrapped around ones body, making it's never ending color the only thing one could see. It was neither warm nor cold, it offered little comfort, but yet, it felt good. Red and white danced always in his sight, a curse and blessing from the time he first entered this godforsaken land. The massive Beast blended in as well as a clown at a fashion show, if not worse. Did it matter? No. He was not here to make himself invisible or live his pathetic life in the shadows while others basked in the glory of themselves and their loved ones. He knew very well that his chance at a seemingly normal life had ended even before he drew his first breath. Cursed, that was what he was. Or blessed - it depended on what day it was.

And today he was cursed.

Hooves the size of dinner plates brought his massive frame forwards, muscles worked under the black and white skin until he suddenly stopped and let his eyes search towards the sky. Before him was a tree. Or, to some, it would look more like a black giant that held the skies up and divided the passing air. For a moment, he just watched it, admired it's strength even in death and the colossal impact it had on it's surroundings. And - his heart.

He felt peace. Like a warm blanket had been cuddled around him, it's weight soothing against knots in his shoulders. It felt like drinking a lot of booze and then just relax while you don't gave a rats ass about what happened to the world or yourself. He harvested that feeling, gave into it for a second, before he shook it away. With a step back, he lowered his head, his muzzle almost touching one of the soot covered roots before he whispered two words he had not spoken in years; "Þakka fyrir.". As soon as the breath left his lungs, he hoisted up his horned head and gave a last glance towards the sky.

Would it rain soon?

OOC - Anyone welcome!
Þakka fyrir - Thank you

The girl moved with the divine grace of an angel... a FALLEN angel. Wherever her hooves touched, there was destruction, death, fights, and pure chaos. At such a young age she was already colder to the world than most immortal creatures. It was not her fault; nothing is ever her fault. She was BORN like this. Castiella did not choose this life, fuck it the girl would still be stomping through hell if she had a choice, but she didn't. The choice was never hers. The filly was always told where to go, what to do, and how she should do it. Maybe that is what happens when you are a child. Her banded muzzle huffed slightly as her black ears pinned against her skull. FUCK them all.... Her body sparked and jumped with golden electricity. The black shit on her chest oozed and dripped a trail of black flowers on the ground. Maybe it was the way Kaos marked the unholy ones in his land. The flowers followed her like a black parade. She never had to bring flowers to a funeral when she could fucking GROW a garden from her chest. "Fucking flowers..." Her voice lashed the air like a whip as she trotted closer to the large tree. Cas could not help but think of the last time she was in this hell hole. She started to giggle as the reactions of Otem played in her mind. Her hooves soon began to skip instead of a trudge. Massive blood colored wings clung tightly to her angelic creamy bodice. The sun light bounced from her sparkling pelt. Castiella looked like the picture perfect child. Skipping, giggling, and plastering a fake ass smile across her masked skull. Soon she heard the words of someone. She was not ALONE. Giggling she slowed down to a walk as she peeked from a bush. A man stood there speaking some odd language. Blood splattered eyes brightened as she placed her striped hoof out into the open. A small giggle fell from her mouth as her peachy sparkling body followed. "What language is that? " Milky tresses floated onto her masked features of her face. Castiella wondered closer to the man looking into the sky. " Nothing exciting as usual up there..." Her honey sweet voice mumbled as she looked back to the ground. A fucking flower bed on the ground was already starting to form from the oozing black wound on her chest. "Talk" @Dreadnought Castiella I'm Well acquainted with villains that live in my HEAD

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Maybe not.

He felt his heart sink a little when he took a step back to get a better view, but soon threw the hope of seeing snow fall from the skies. You never know how much you miss something, until you don't have it and he did indeed miss the snow and cold more than anything. It had always made him feel at home, even though he was born far from the snow covered peaks he later had laid claim to. He almost gave in to a sigh, had not someone spoken so sweetly to steal his attention.

Turning slightly, he laid milky eyes upon the mare, letting the silence claim some time so he could properly look at her. And she was a beauty. Having experience with her kind, he did not haste nor come across as rude while staring. She was smaller than him (they all were), but he saw that she was not one of those who lacked height. Wings were neatly folded and her hair matched his in color. With a shine in her pelt he had never seen before, it was impossible not to notice the wound and what she left behind. She must have pissed off someone very powerful to deserve that - or she was cursed like him.

Finally he gave a slight dip with his head, as to acknowledge her presence. "It is an old language called Throkkir." A faint smile followed his words, something he rarely shared with strangers, but which seemed to be suitable in this situation. He kept his focus on her as she dared to come closer, before he threw it up towards the heavens as he had done not long ago. "Then you don't have a vivid imagination." Not thinking it was too harsh to say, a glimpse of playfulness and teasing could be spotted on his features as he looked at her again. "That doesn't look comfortable."

@Castiella

His pale eyes looked to her. Oh, how devilish and demented he looks. It makes her heart feel warm and soft looking at the demonic beast. Great towering horns rose from not one, not two, but three spots on each side of his skull. A mocking of the holy trinity on the left and right side on him. Six total, the number of the devil. Castiella smiled... she had her own markings from hell. It plastered her pure white angelic face in three black bands. Soft, creamy tresses float in the warm dampened air. He looks at her, he does not speak, but that is okay. Not everyone is used to seeing a FALLEN angel. Cas waits she likes the silence, but she LOVES the attention. It was something the girl was not use too. For she has not met very many MEN. (other than her two brothers) Maybe, the girl did not know how gorgeous she really was... Do NOT be fooled by appearance. Her soul was uglier than the most monstrous beast in all the depths of hell. Just keep looking past that though. Just keep looking at her beautiful face. Finally, he spoke. Gruff tones filled the charcoal colored ears of the sweet looking girl. He even smiled at her! Castiella smiled back, and it caused her unholy face to glow with radiance. What was even better is the man dipped his head to her. Such an odd gesture, but it made the sparks on her back rise with excitement. "Throkkir.. Is it older than Latin? " Tilting her head she giggled softly looking back up to the sky. Brother would be so proud of the friends she is making! Oh, and acting was becoming more like her everyday personality. Castiella had perfected the art of hiding everything real from the world. Sometimes her face and words might falter, but hey, she was just a little bit of a psychopath. There is nothing wrong with that! Right? He joins her in looking up at the sky. Her teal and crimson flecked orbs looked back down to the earth. She studies his markings, horns, and body for a brief moment. Imagination? The word struck her... what was that? The features on her face wrinkled as she tried to figure out what the word meant. What the fuck was an imagination? Was it that thing that let her day dream about killing everyone? Maybe it was the thing that allowed her to think about what she would do to people if she could get away with it. If so then "Oh, my imagination is much more vivid that you think." She trailed off with a small playful giggle. Little, did this man know he was talking to the female Lucifer. Then the elephant on her chest is exposed. Her masked face let the smile fall as she looked down to the fucking flower pot growing at her hooves. He was the first to ask about it though. Maybe it was a good thing, because if Castiella starts to think about something too much... well, let's not talk about that. A grin flickered on her face like a specter trying to form in front of them. " It is not that bad... I have had it since we crossed the portal. Kaos said it is a gift.." The last word stuck in her mouth like a bitter piece of gum. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I did not grow a garden everywhere I went. I just try not to think about it honestly" was she really being honest? Was Castiella EVER honest? She giggled slightly letting her perfect teal orbs fall back upon the features of the demon in front of her. "Your horns... they are spectacular! " Looking away ( acting like she was shy) milky tresses floated in her eyes covering up her perfect features. People don't like when you stare right? "I am Castiella. " Heavy crimson wings settle against her sparkling peachy bodice. "Talk" @Dreadnought Castiella I'm Well acquainted with villains that live in my HEAD

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