Who: Necrosis and Open to anyone who might be up What: Flight time and tears When: (backdated a little) December 26th 2:47am Where: Sunsent Shore, Brightford Status: Ongoing Warnings: Talk of death, mentions of suicide, rest TBD
Necrosis closed his eyes as he broke through a low hanging cloud. He tucked his body in and felt the familiar sensation of a flip. Once he broke through the small cloud again he opened his eyes and dove for the ocean. The icy winter wind tore through his clothing and chilled him to his bones. Necrosis flew back to the beach where he'd left his things safely in the sand. His wingtips skimmed the salty surface with each downbeat. Necrosis ignored the later preening wet wings would cost him as he wiped his face. His eyes burned harshly from his freezing tears. The angel landed near his stuff and collapsed in the sand next to it.
Resting at the top of the pile was the long thin shiny silver box from the Ruler. "How could he have gotten Desolation's wing feather? Des is dead... There wasn't even a body to get one from." Necrosis racked his brain for a possibility. "What ever the Ruler did, he has to have stronger abilities then me when it came to the dead... Or something time related..? It's not a fake..." Necrosis reached for the box and laid on his back as he held it against his chest. His large black and white wings fanned out across the cold sand.
Necrosis opened the book and carefully held the feather up against the light of the moon. He could see the strong outline of a primary feather's long slender shape. Tears welled in his eyes with a stronger force at the sight of it once more. This was his closest brother, what was left of him at least. "It's my fault he's dead." Necrosis's guilt ravaged around his head, "If I just ignored Kin and didn't follow her... He wouldn't have gotten stabbed..." Necrosis twirled the feather around watching the moonlight bounce off of the feather's stormy grey color. Desolation's dying face flashed in his mind and he shot up to sitting as his tears hit his ears. Necrosis wiped his face vigorously as he started sobbing. His wings awkwardly hung next to him, covered in sand and heavy from the now sandy and wet wing tips. He felt like a mess of an angel, everything that had happened as his fault. Necrosis yelled in anguish as he clutched the feather tightly.