:: He'll Only Break Your Heart ::

�...and how those wraiths sung and danced and gnashed their claws with grins of glee on bloody lips. They howled and raged and slithered, femme fatales of blood and bone that revelled in the fires of their own devastation. Yet, paused they did, silent fell there cries...for he came. He alone parted the darkness with that sword of obsidian as hell itself recoiled from him and in turn, each wraith bowed, to he, their King.�
-Violet Heart

Whether he came to the sound of weakness or the stench of blood within the air cannot be known. He simply came on long black limbs, his hard, muscular form draped beneath his obsidian cloak as the ebony prince glided on silent black wings across the soil. His face is turned upward, shadow and line sweeping across the utter perfection of his features, a beauty carved form sin itself to linger upon the frame of a creature so designed for success, a beauty so rarely seen and yet one that is as empty and false as the light within his eyes. Tobias does not exist, he is not real, he is nothing more the an empty shell, a sickening fragment of a creature not truly alive and yet one who has learned to mimic life and existence. Like a game, a dangerous little game he plays with each victim before him, luring them towards him with the silk of his voice and the beauty of his face and body while those knives behind his lips sharpen and mutter their eagerness and the demons of his mind grin and dance and whisper to his ears. Aaliyah alone commands this creature and yet even Aaliyah cannot be at his side every moment, she understands his need to remain away from others, that glitch within his mind that summons him into the shadows upon the dawn of each day. Only then does she unfold her wings and allow her sword to leave her side and bath himself within the shade until the night calls him forth once more to strike the weakness from this earth. So many, so many have fallen to the Black Prince and many more are to come.

Devoid emerald gaze peers from the shadows, watching with reptilian gaze as the white wolves turn and circle and snarl their perceived dominance over each other. He lingers, waiting, his mind searching, grasping and clinging at the fragments of memory. He must not touch the white wolves she says, never must his fangs slay the Angels....but these are not Aaliyah�s Angels, no. His Mind cannot pereicve time nor any sense of self, he cannot recall names or faces, his mind a selection of fragmented moments that glitch and shake within his demonic-filled skull. The white one, from the river, foolish one who tried to share his meal- weak (Fatality). The white one, from the falls, who had tried to take his cave, runs with Angels- weak (Ruvindra). The white one, from the fields, from the den, from the shadows whose scent lingers within his mind and whose blood taints his veins. Jaidah. She alone has a name within the blackened pit of his conscience. Jaidah, like him, yes, but could not kill him, no, no, tried, but no. Like him, weak, but no so weak as the others. Like Him. Not for eating. Something akin to a smirk claws its way across his features as his mind comprehends his memories of his Mother before those dead optics roll towards the smallest one (Seren). Female is all that registers within him and for that she is ignored. Tobias will tolerate sisters (adopted or otherwise) but never brothers, no, his brothers he devours one by one for instinct demands this, instinct demands that he alone claim his space within Jaidah�s attentions. That he has lost his Father, his siblings and his home is not a perceivable concept, such emotional things mean nothing to a creature incapable of feeling and in this way he is above them all, unbound my soul or emotion, unaltered by the vile sickness of feeling that has driven Jaidah to an insanity he cannot see nor register.

He survives on instinct alone, his need to feed above all else, though this night he has already eaten well, consumed heavily the flesh of his prey. It is not the food he wants as he slithers from the shadows. Fatality is ignored as if she does not exist, sliding past her snowy form like a shadow as his heckles raise, lips parting in warning to Ruvindra, a display of dominance. His mind remembers, his mind understands that she had played that game with him once before and now, at full and impressive growth he will not be cowed, he dares her to snarl at him as he travels onwards, body lifting higher, more dominant as he glides on wings of violent intent past Seren. The girl is ignored, useless, weak, a snack and nothing else though the scent of Jaidah upon her protects her from his jaws in this moment as dead, unblinking eyes fall upon his Mother. It is the first time he has come to her in two years, surely she did not believe her demon would die when the world ended? Head and tail lift high, heckles rising upwards like black knives as he towers above her and blood-stained knives flicker in the dark. A snarl twists from his lips, challenging her, teeth reaching for her meal, daring her to deny him.

He does not hunger for the meat, no. This is about dominance. Sorry Jaidah, but you cannot pick him up and shake him anymore and he wants your meal.....

"Mother."

Better give it to him....

Demetri x Jaidah | 6 Years| Loner | No Mate | No Imprint

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