Kovacs
the maestro of mad shit.
BELIAL BRUNLOFANG
theme
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Location
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the docks of Altair
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Tags
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Zenoulis SilvercrawAnise PaigeZuriel DimitrscuKiara Solarius
the lionness, the witch and the wardrobe
"Belie... is that any way to talk to your captain..."
Something between a mutter and a scoff growled out the half-feathered demon's mouth. "I could spit in your eye and call you captain."
"... who just saved your life, by the way..."
Belial felt the backs of his eyes roll, up and down, this way, that. Trying to find purchase in any sight better than that damned Silvercraw, who drawled impishly in a fit of coughing. The view below was a canvas of beaten, bloody silver bodies---hardly a better alternative to soothe his frustration. Belial's gaze then drifted, shooting a glare at the vampire before settling on the closest face to him. Reignited, a curious spark soaked in her purplish skin. The image of home drifted up into his mind's eye; purple like the purple hydrangea that grew in droves along the ridgelines of Mount Ieru.
Behind her, a blur of maple and shadow moved in the distance. Belial blinked, eagle eyes narrowing, brow furrowing. What was ...?
"And I didn't leave you for dead. I was simply ensuring our loot didn't go down with the ship."
Belial's attention snapped back towards the pirate. The bastard's reasoning was folly as fool's gold. Feeling as if he were back in the sea again, emotions as big as the waves roiled up inside him, frustration pricking at his eyes like bee stings.
"Ensuring?!"
The word was a furious scrape on the throat. If Belial had the strength in that moment, he would have ensured to leave a good many empty holes in the two-timing sea thief's smile, where good teeth had once been.
"Either way, you can... you can fly, right?"
Belial nearly broke out of Anise's grasp, face burning with the threat of angry tears and ill humour. His thoughts were barbs, yearning to poke out of the veil.
Fly? Why, no, you feather-headed fool, of course he can't fly. These feathers and Egg, all just for decoration; made up on wax and a prayer! Praying that they'd somehow ride the right winds into this gizzard-forsaken port!
Belial opened his mouth sharply, willing for every inch of that bold thought to tumble out. Screech some sense into the much taller white-haired cockerel's skull, consequences be damned.
Instead, his nose twitched. The wind's direction had changed moments ago, and now the smell of smoke was layered with something more poignant, more dangerous. The scent wafted past Anise, weaving behind a tower of wooden crates. Every splinter, every dry crack Belial could make out with crystal precision, offering glimpses into the tower's shadowed, concealed figure.
Head cocked in that signature bird-like way, Belial's eyes narrowed. For a moment, he swore he could see a pair of amber eyes staring back, sharp and predatorial. Reeking so much like...
Like...
His eyes widened, mind laced with a hundred stories of cat claw clashing with bird talon. Of the fates of those birds who lost, and of that natural prey instinct to take flight...
Lion!
Whipping around to fully face the threat behind the crates, a pricked and pointed talon aimed straight at the tower. "We're not alone," Belial half-whispered, urgency making his voice grow louder with every word. "Someone's watching us... sh-show yourself, bastard!"
❖
Something between a mutter and a scoff growled out the half-feathered demon's mouth. "I could spit in your eye and call you captain."
"... who just saved your life, by the way..."
Belial felt the backs of his eyes roll, up and down, this way, that. Trying to find purchase in any sight better than that damned Silvercraw, who drawled impishly in a fit of coughing. The view below was a canvas of beaten, bloody silver bodies---hardly a better alternative to soothe his frustration. Belial's gaze then drifted, shooting a glare at the vampire before settling on the closest face to him. Reignited, a curious spark soaked in her purplish skin. The image of home drifted up into his mind's eye; purple like the purple hydrangea that grew in droves along the ridgelines of Mount Ieru.
Behind her, a blur of maple and shadow moved in the distance. Belial blinked, eagle eyes narrowing, brow furrowing. What was ...?
"And I didn't leave you for dead. I was simply ensuring our loot didn't go down with the ship."
Belial's attention snapped back towards the pirate. The bastard's reasoning was folly as fool's gold. Feeling as if he were back in the sea again, emotions as big as the waves roiled up inside him, frustration pricking at his eyes like bee stings.
"Ensuring?!"
The word was a furious scrape on the throat. If Belial had the strength in that moment, he would have ensured to leave a good many empty holes in the two-timing sea thief's smile, where good teeth had once been.
"Either way, you can... you can fly, right?"
Belial nearly broke out of Anise's grasp, face burning with the threat of angry tears and ill humour. His thoughts were barbs, yearning to poke out of the veil.
Fly? Why, no, you feather-headed fool, of course he can't fly. These feathers and Egg, all just for decoration; made up on wax and a prayer! Praying that they'd somehow ride the right winds into this gizzard-forsaken port!
Belial opened his mouth sharply, willing for every inch of that bold thought to tumble out. Screech some sense into the much taller white-haired cockerel's skull, consequences be damned.
Instead, his nose twitched. The wind's direction had changed moments ago, and now the smell of smoke was layered with something more poignant, more dangerous. The scent wafted past Anise, weaving behind a tower of wooden crates. Every splinter, every dry crack Belial could make out with crystal precision, offering glimpses into the tower's shadowed, concealed figure.
Head cocked in that signature bird-like way, Belial's eyes narrowed. For a moment, he swore he could see a pair of amber eyes staring back, sharp and predatorial. Reeking so much like...
Like...
His eyes widened, mind laced with a hundred stories of cat claw clashing with bird talon. Of the fates of those birds who lost, and of that natural prey instinct to take flight...
Lion!
Whipping around to fully face the threat behind the crates, a pricked and pointed talon aimed straight at the tower. "We're not alone," Belial half-whispered, urgency making his voice grow louder with every word. "Someone's watching us... sh-show yourself, bastard!"
❖
MAGIC // ABILITIES.
RED MAGIC
· Golden Eagle Cry | Thanks to his mixed blood, Belial's cry is not as strong or impactful as it should be. He can let it out in effective, short bursts however, and oftentimes that can be enough disorientation that his wings and talons can finish the rest of the job.
BLACK MAGIC
· Black Magic Feathers | Belial's feathers develop a protective coating of black magic, which render the feathers as deadly as poisonous knives. He can shoot out and control them at will, to the detriment of his mobility and speed. Once they are out, they're out, and he has to turn back to normal to wait for more feathers to grow.
· Black Magic Ovoids | Belial can create black magic egg-like structures that can act as shields or trap his enemies, and when the eggs crack into pieces thanks to enemy efforts to get out, the pieces can still be manipulated against them.
CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER
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