[Thread] Anger issues
Characters: Saetan, and anyone who wants to wander in an see what all the commotion is about! (You know it'll be fun!)
Where: Ci-Tessera, Saetan's room.
When: After this.
Summary: Saetan destroys some furniture and is generally angsty.
Warnings: Emo ahoy!
The room was freezing, with a light dusting of frost coating the the floor nearest Saetan; he hardly noticed. At the moment, the Warlord Prince was far more intent on destroying furniture, his customary outlet for rage. Blasts of Black power singed the walls or smashed the few items in the room that he had not ripped apart by hand. He had not bothered to put an aural shield around the room, had not given his roommates a second thought as he rode the killing edge, hating Li and Daemon and, most importantly, himself.
A sweep of his arm toppled a dresser, and a blast from the Black Jewels reduced it to splinters with a very satisfying crash a moment later. Snarling, he whirled, unable to stay still, and began shredding a pillow.
Damn them both for putting him in this situation, for doing this to him again! The pillow send a snowstorm of fluff drifting to the floor that went unnoticed. He would have been able to handle this, had it not been for the one painful phrase Li had used in justifying his decision for leaving; As your father has wished it, so shall it be.
The words had been swirling through his head ever since, slashing away at his heart and calling forth an older, equally painful memory of another son who he had lost a lifetime ago for the same misunderstood reason and heart-shattering accusation made by his lover.
“You got what you wanted, High Lord-”
“It’s not what I wanted!”
“-but you aren’t going to get everything. I lost Shira - and you lost me.”
“Peyton!”
“I’m leaving, the only way you can stop me is by killing me.”
Another blast of fury destroyed the desk as he snarled with anger to cover to anguish. Long black nails slashed through one of the sheets with a violence that denied the glazed, sleepy look on his golden eyes. He no longer looked like a kindly old gentleman or a benevolent father figure; this was the High Lord of Hell, and this was why even the dead feared him.
Where: Ci-Tessera, Saetan's room.
When: After this.
Summary: Saetan destroys some furniture and is generally angsty.
Warnings: Emo ahoy!
The room was freezing, with a light dusting of frost coating the the floor nearest Saetan; he hardly noticed. At the moment, the Warlord Prince was far more intent on destroying furniture, his customary outlet for rage. Blasts of Black power singed the walls or smashed the few items in the room that he had not ripped apart by hand. He had not bothered to put an aural shield around the room, had not given his roommates a second thought as he rode the killing edge, hating Li and Daemon and, most importantly, himself.
A sweep of his arm toppled a dresser, and a blast from the Black Jewels reduced it to splinters with a very satisfying crash a moment later. Snarling, he whirled, unable to stay still, and began shredding a pillow.
Damn them both for putting him in this situation, for doing this to him again! The pillow send a snowstorm of fluff drifting to the floor that went unnoticed. He would have been able to handle this, had it not been for the one painful phrase Li had used in justifying his decision for leaving; As your father has wished it, so shall it be.
The words had been swirling through his head ever since, slashing away at his heart and calling forth an older, equally painful memory of another son who he had lost a lifetime ago for the same misunderstood reason and heart-shattering accusation made by his lover.
“You got what you wanted, High Lord-”
“It’s not what I wanted!”
“-but you aren’t going to get everything. I lost Shira - and you lost me.”
“Peyton!”
“I’m leaving, the only way you can stop me is by killing me.”
Another blast of fury destroyed the desk as he snarled with anger to cover to anguish. Long black nails slashed through one of the sheets with a violence that denied the glazed, sleepy look on his golden eyes. He no longer looked like a kindly old gentleman or a benevolent father figure; this was the High Lord of Hell, and this was why even the dead feared him.