[PQ] blood on your knuckles

Theea

know this ain't for the weak
or for hate, it's for soul

The worshippers’ footsteps fade toward the doors and a knot unclenches in my chest. Embarrassment lingers hot in my ears, but I shove it down and listen. There—beneath the boards—scratching, a rasping chew that travels along the ribs of the floor like a saw blade. I adjust my grip on the shortsword, thumb finding the nick in the guard, and glance toward Deimos just as stone parts under his will. The nest yawns up at him—feathers, down, old sticks—and his warning snaps across the nave.

The floor bursts.

A blunt, reeking weight hammers through the opening—hide like wet leather, teeth like chisels, whiskers skittering. And holy shit It. Is. Giant. The ROU screams at the lash of Deimos’s magic, and the sound saws straight through me. The switch flips. Everything tightens into angles and choices: footing, distance, line.

I shift left, light on the balls of my feet, breath soft and measured. The sword comes up in a short, mean arc—no flourish, just work—aiming for the soft line where throat meets jaw. I yank back before it can latch, slipping back and to the side, a hard-to-catch flicker of shadow behind a flame, eyes cutting for the next lunge and the next opening.

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Theea attacks ROU 4! cause she's fuckin stupiiiid

tell them to retreat 
cause they ain't even close