Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27550231-20160726000337/@comment-26517142-20161012160712

(Wow. You let that hit, huh?)

Praetor's side starts to bleed profusely. Blood mixes in with mud and rainwater. Pained, he collapses. The wound heals, albeit slowly. The family he defended cries for his life, screaming for Jeiel to stop.

''JEIEL, YOU MORON! YOU ARE MAKING THINGS WORSE! DRIVE HIM BACK, I IMPLORE YOU! ''

Jeiel stares at the almost-nonexistent blade plunged at his lower chest. He spits blood as the hilt clatters beside Praetor, its blade fading away. The wound spurts of damage, and yet the beast in Jeiel shrugs it off.

KILL him.

He can't die.

'THEN REND HIM UNTIL HE CANNOT STAND. THAT SHOULD NOT BE A CHORE for you, WOULD IT, HOMUNCULUS?!'

''I know. ''His hands ignite in golden, rainbow-streamed flames

'SEVER YOUR TIES. DESTROY EVERYTHING. KILL. '

'KILL. KILL'

KILL.

=KILL.=

Praetor finds Jeiel's eyes soulless and unwilling. He's lost. All traces of the person they met in OZ.. was fading..

KILL HIM.

Jeiel brings his fist down...

...

........and strikes at his own wound.

NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!