DARK STAR - - Open, Joining

[Luciferr]

HYMN OF RUIN

LUCIFERUS GRIMM — MALE — VERY HARD — LARGE DRAGON

it was pitch dark in the hours before dawn, an auspicious time to many - the witching hour was one name for it and perhaps there was a tinge of truth to it, but who could say when strange things would turn up, it would be on their own time - no dictation from the superstitious could change that.

The dead air in this time was unusual, an omen perhaps - as silence stretched across the territory that housed this particular band of rogues, a  shadow swept above - with nary a sound to disturb the stretching quiet.

Wings pitch as the sky they glided through - cut like someone had carved it from that very sky - curled and flapped once bracketing and slicing the open air below as the ends trailed into shadowy tendrils and white edged feathering - like a light shined through a small narrow slit.

The beast would have been invisible against the night sky - if it were not for the ghastly red scar crawling up its neck and carved out the left side of its face - a great wound inflicted by something terrible enough to leave such a horrid twisting mark, a mass of shadows and red intricate carvings that were anathema to the world around it, a forever grimace of teeth upon its left side maw - a singular red pupil in contrast to the silver iris set in black opposite to it stared out at the area below as those great wings flared outwards - a second set unfurling behind before the being touched down upon the dark night lit sands with a quiet strange to its large armoured but lithe build.

A rumbling breath hissed between teeth as silver-red glanced around - no one, not yet - the graceful wings shifting up around and back to fold neatly against him, assembling like the draping of a cape across huge armoured shoulders and obscuring most of his form from behind, a singular bladed tail shifting in the sands behind him.

Lucifer was a weary being, he'd travelled Far and he'd seen much - too much one might say, but he was not one to give up and die, to simply cease - no, no matter how world weary, lucifer had never been one to stop striving.

It was what his mother had said was one of his greatest traits

armoured claws twitched and clutched at the sands momentarily at the thought, since regaining his lost memories, these thoughts had been more frequent - and more saddening.

No he would never choose to give them up, not for anything in the world - but it was quite a shaking world view to wake up one day to remember near your entire family was dead and you had nearly been forced - puppeterred, his mind supplied - to kill them, thankfully he had not but the outcome was the same - he had lived, his family had not.

Then there was the family from his prior traveling Under his pseudonym, idly he did wonder where they had all gone - where were they now? were they alive?

Were they happy?

The great dragon shook his head, another breath forced from his lungs in a long sigh as he shifted, settling on the sands - he would wait for a patrol to find him and state his business, he had no desire to shout about it and wake the whole island when a simple quiet discussion with the next patrol would do.

One silver and one red eye tracked the low breeze that shook the tree leaves - the soothing hiss of the tropical leaves a quiet balm to the troubled soul - he'd missed this, missed simply being another in a community and not placed upon some pedestal, wanted for his worth or hunted for his half reviled parentage.

Lucifer sighed, time to wait.

#psychosocial.