the hailstorm
Had Neron always planned, subconsciously, to piss Zariah off enough that she would hurt him? He didn’t know, that was for sure. Granted, given his track record, it seemed gods damned likely (wasn’t seeking out punishment his favourite?), but since reaching Halo he thought perhaps he might have grown out of it. Whoops.
The chair splintered out from beneath him - not the most subtle noise to go echoing about the room, but hey - and the floor met his back a second later. He felt the ozone in the air, the crackle of electricity upon his skin promising pain; and oh, did Zariah deliver.
Once a Launceleyn, always a Launceleyn, no matter how hard you try. Like a trained animal, Neron was silent and still throughout the Archmage’s tirade, even as her nails bit into his jaw. Electricity charged through him, locking his limbs in place, and his lips parted to force shallow breaths into his lungs. As her words ran out, he regarded her sharply, cheeks flushed, a mix of fury and something definitely-not-fury in his expression.
”If you are quite done, you can leave,” he panted.
The chair splintered out from beneath him - not the most subtle noise to go echoing about the room, but hey - and the floor met his back a second later. He felt the ozone in the air, the crackle of electricity upon his skin promising pain; and oh, did Zariah deliver.
Once a Launceleyn, always a Launceleyn, no matter how hard you try. Like a trained animal, Neron was silent and still throughout the Archmage’s tirade, even as her nails bit into his jaw. Electricity charged through him, locking his limbs in place, and his lips parted to force shallow breaths into his lungs. As her words ran out, he regarded her sharply, cheeks flushed, a mix of fury and something definitely-not-fury in his expression.
”If you are quite done, you can leave,” he panted.
