ISKRA
I always feel alone, inside my mind
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
His own laughter strikes out heartily as Mel creates the most perfectly concise summation of what they'll be doing. "Let's fuck him up," Iskra agrees with a grin so rampant his ears brush the inside of his beanie.
Wasting no time to prep himself with lightning, it immediately stirs a different sort of feeling inside him. Where all the magic threads shimmer like thin, golden instrument chords awaiting the proper pluck of consciousness, his fire magic rouses like some ancient beast that's as patient as it is restless. It prowls through his veins, hot and building, its voice insistent and climbing into a roar of devastation. This ability though, it prickles through the entirety of him at once. Not as a serpent gliding along his veins, but a storm that barrels past the door the moment its opened, coating everything inside. Each nerve comes alive with it, and the presence feels like voices of many coming together, small but countless, a whisper if only because it isn't mastered and rooted innately inside him yet.
As the static builds from the cloth, so too does the sensation tingle and flicker through him with the mounting pressure of something working on escape. The contact of her beside him turns his attention back external for a moment, the rising, tumultuous chatter of lighting inside him becoming a distant murmur as he lets his gaze capture her determined features. "Maybe so, but Snah hates lightning, I've been told." His grin surfaces over the concentration, past the teeth-trembling electricity, flashing bright and coaxing towards her. "You got this," he offers, and turns to face their opponent.
The air tightens around them, bending to the sudden sharpness of energy that Iskra draws out of himself and sets free into the world. Lightning snaps like a bright flash of teeth, snapping sudden and unforgiving against the snowy arm of their creation. It cleaves sections of the snow away in great shales of ice and chaos, dispersing into the base and fizzing away into the ground like nothing more than violent soda fizz. He knows now that she can recreate it, even as that chord in him starts to hum back into silence.
Wasting no time to prep himself with lightning, it immediately stirs a different sort of feeling inside him. Where all the magic threads shimmer like thin, golden instrument chords awaiting the proper pluck of consciousness, his fire magic rouses like some ancient beast that's as patient as it is restless. It prowls through his veins, hot and building, its voice insistent and climbing into a roar of devastation. This ability though, it prickles through the entirety of him at once. Not as a serpent gliding along his veins, but a storm that barrels past the door the moment its opened, coating everything inside. Each nerve comes alive with it, and the presence feels like voices of many coming together, small but countless, a whisper if only because it isn't mastered and rooted innately inside him yet.
As the static builds from the cloth, so too does the sensation tingle and flicker through him with the mounting pressure of something working on escape. The contact of her beside him turns his attention back external for a moment, the rising, tumultuous chatter of lighting inside him becoming a distant murmur as he lets his gaze capture her determined features. "Maybe so, but Snah hates lightning, I've been told." His grin surfaces over the concentration, past the teeth-trembling electricity, flashing bright and coaxing towards her. "You got this," he offers, and turns to face their opponent.
The air tightens around them, bending to the sudden sharpness of energy that Iskra draws out of himself and sets free into the world. Lightning snaps like a bright flash of teeth, snapping sudden and unforgiving against the snowy arm of their creation. It cleaves sections of the snow away in great shales of ice and chaos, dispersing into the base and fizzing away into the ground like nothing more than violent soda fizz. He knows now that she can recreate it, even as that chord in him starts to hum back into silence.
I've been trying to find something
that can set my soul free
that can set my soul free
