31st of Tria, 81379 The smell of freshly applied balm cleared his sinus' and made his eyes water, the harsh edge of the chilling vapours tempered by the fresh gauze wrapped over the offending stuff. Both hands, or rather bother palms, were smeared with the creamy substance that both numbed the pain and helped prevent infection. Dark furred fingers were wrapped about a generic looking paper cup, a faint wafting trail of steam rising from the dark liquid it held. Tesreail just couldn't face the day without his morning java jive. Blowing tentatively on the hot drink, he carefully traversed the packed cafeteria; as always he avoided even brushing shoulders with his peers, keeping his gaze downcast and his body language as unassuming as possible. He'd already attracted enough attention earlier on his way out of the dorms. As the slim, almost enfeminite arden slipped into an unoccupied chair in the most uninhabited corner of the cafe, he winced and grit his teeth against the involuntairy gasp that escaped his lungs. A fresh wave of pain bloomed from the growing bruise on his chest, and the large contusion on his side. A fist and a boot, respectively, had made those marks. One eye (his only good one, as luck would have it) was partially swollen shut, the telltale markings of a black eye marring his face. <span style='color:gray'>Perfect way to start the day.</span> he thought ruefully, idly pushing his hair back from his face and taking a delicate sip from his still too hot coffee. He made a small face, rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth in an effort to drive away the effects of the mild scalding. Damn perfect.
Baal Deathwing sat in the corner of the Jarnardan cafeteria, brooding, as usual. He was always alone, especially at lunch. Not many people would enjoy the company of a demon. Especially one who has the last name 'Deathwing'. Appealing? He let out a harsh laugh, shoving some food into his mouth. He was filled with angst since she had left him.
The smallest of sighs passed the dark 'dragon's lips, his eyes fixated on the miasma of evaporating water that rose and danced above his cup before fadding into the surrounding nothingness. He looked like he was doing nothing. Just sitting their, bag slung over one shoulder, stareing blankly into space as a few incoherant words were mumbled to quietly for anyone to make out. In reality, Tesreail was quite busy, he was feeling out the ebb and flow of the life around him, a passtime that had come naturally with his habit of people watching. Feeling out the life around him using his training in the darker aspects of fronima to entertain himself. His late adoptive mother would have had a fit. But it amused him. Here and there he would wryly murmur to himself various things, usually along the lines of: 'that piercing is infected...' or 'do her parents know she's pregnant?'. He was touching the lives of the common rabble when something stopped his mental self in his tracks. Hot... the heat being given off by some foreign life form was nearly giving him a headache; a startling suprise from the subtle warmth a normal pendragon had. Raising his head slowly, his squinting eye tracked through a passing group of chittering thill to spy what had caught his mind so fully. A demon. Of course... His chosen trades trained him for dealing with such beings. But... was this one a student here? <span style='color:gray'> {Can you hear me}</span> he whispered telepathically, his male mind not nearly as strong as a female of his age, but powerful enough from his trades to create a soft whisper of his voice in another 'dragons mind. He just hoped the demon heard him.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Ahhhh! Sorry about my short postings x_X I can't think :(</td></tr></table> Yesssss, he replied in the same manor, slithery tone. He shoved more food into his mouth, eyes closed. He turned towards the other dragon, the one who had spoken to him. Do you have a problem?
Jerking slightly, Tesreail attempted to make proper eye contact with the other arden, although his gaze was slightly sheepish and he seemed to be attempted to hide within the confines of his shirt. <span style='color:gray'>{I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your breakfast.}</span> he answered monotonously, looking back down at his cup. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wished he could just go and find Schism, go and hide away in that spot behind the tree and tell her everything that was on his mind, every little detail. But he couldn't. She had so much to do academically, he was almost certain she had some sort of summer program worked out for over the Tria break. Still, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of her in what seemed like a life time, and it bothered him in a suprisingly strange way. His brain abruptly did a three-sixty, switching from the rebellious thill that had entranced him to the intimidateing arden he had bothered. The male was large enough to do serious damage, and with the beating he had already taken earlier he didn't know if a run-in with the large 'dragon would leave him concious. That was, IF the arden was malicious. Tes' wasn't certain he was, but that nagging bit of paranoia in the back of his skull kept whispering dark possibilities.
He laughed, opening his eyes to the dragon. It'sss no worry, I was nearly finissshed he said cramming the last of the food into his mouth. He stood up, walking towards the dragon. His steps were slow, balanced and fickle. Sssso Tesreail, he began, suddenly appearing in front of the dragon. He slumped over the cafeteria table, smirking.
Tesreail tensed, his grip tightening on the weak container of his cup. Slowly he looked up at the great arden, his eyes as calm as possible when a demon is staring you in the face. <span style='color:gray'>"I'd perfer if you'd stay out of my mind."</span> he said cooly, assuming that was how the demon had learned his name.
He laughed once more, eyeing the dragon. It's impossible, for I am a seer of many worlds he replied. Baal, Deathwing he said, flashing a smile.
Lips pursing slightly with the effort, Tesreail summoned up the mental barrier that would keep the demon from access his more personal thoughts and feelings. <span style='color:gray'>"I don't care what you're a seerer of, if you were powerful enough you'd be able to sheild yourself to protect other 'dragons' privacy."</span> he muttered in an icy tone, just loud enough for his voice to reach the other pendragons ears.
His casual smile changed to a dark frown. "Don't mess with me dragon, I have dark secrets behind my friendly appearence". If the other dragon bothered him any further, he would bring it somewhere, a little more, cozy. Perhaps the dark shadows of Fronima? Or maybe a little hiding he had created in the bottom of the school to channel his demons. Wait. He shook his head. This was not him, it was wrong. He was not the dark one of the three Deathwing brothers. It was Mephistae who was supposed to be the devious destructive demon of the group. Was he under the influence of Kayhda, the demon from Fronima who had banished him? He had to find out, now. "Listen, dragon, whatever I said in the few minutes we have been talking, I do not remember a thing, so ignore what I am about to do". He sheathed the dagger from his black, leather boot, arching his back. He stabbed the knife into his heart, a smirk on his face. Suddenly, his eyes turned back to thier bright yellow state, blood oozing out of the wound. A whisp of white smoke emerged from the dragon. He looked around, hoping that he had not been seen, except by the other dragon who was directly in front of him. "Welcome back, demon Kahyda, I see you still have the same weaknesses from last time" he said as the figuire became another dragon, almost as a ghost. He let out an ear piercing howl.
The coffee cup was crushed under Tesreails sudden grip upon it's styrofoam body, it's heated contents splashing out over his bandaged hands and onto the scratched and worn table where it formed a murky puddle on the stressed faux wood. His eyes -or rather, his only working one- was fixated sternly on the student before him. A threat from the winged 'dragon had caused his body to tense, and his ears to flick backwards atop his cranium. He'd nearly bolted from the table, fully prepared to make a dash back to either his dorm or the mews where he could use the excuse of going to fly his aggressive trisk, Araciel. When a dagger had been produced from a boot, Tesreail had almost screamed out the summons for his familiar, a beast which he had only tamed that Dyo. But the knife was not destined for him. As it pierced the breast of the arden, Tes' breath caught in his chest. He reflexively glanced about, looking for any witnesses to Baal's apparent madness. Once again, he found himself stunned. Around them, swirling and pulsateing with the reds and whites of Tesreail's familiar's magic, was a... bubble? No, a sheild. Outside the wall of fronima life went on, and his peers took not the slightest notice of the ongoings between himself and Baal. When he looked back, he saw why his familiar had felt the need to summon up such a barrier. As the mist took shape, Baal's tremendous howl echoed and reverberated around the enclosed area. Tesreail's sensitive ears clamped down against the younger ardens vulpine skull and trembled ever so slightly, although the rest of his body was frozen still. All of it, save for his lips. The word that he uttered was a shadow of a whisper, barely audible even to his own ears. <span style='color:gray'>"Monster...!"</span>
The demon glared at him, scraping his claws along the shield the other had created. <span style='color:gray'>"Thanksssss, how I have been dying to escape that desgusting corpse"</span>, sticking a spidery finger out towards Baal, who jumped at his touch. He faced the other dragon with a slight smirk. <span style='color:gray'>"Remove the wallssss, foolish dragon"</span> he said, refering to the bubble of energy surrounding the three.
Swallowing hard, Tesreail's claws dug into the table as he watched the sheild flash brilliant white where the demons talons touched it's surface. The marks glowed faintly, like scars on the wall, before slowly fading into nothing. On the verge of hyperventilation, he ran a finger agitatedly through his bangs, brushing them out of his face repeatedly until they were slicked out of the way. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he faced both the demon and Baal with stoic features. <span style='color:grey'>"I can't."</span> he said simply.
The demon sneered at the dragons reply. "Do it, now" he growled. "And as for you, Deathwing brother, move, and I will call a few friends". Baal shivered at the thought of more demons, and remained still, thinking for his next attack.
Tesreail shuddered slightly, clamping his eyes shut as his familiar, Rjemdaj, formed behind him. Taking the shape of a willowy female, her featureless face unemotional as the energy flickered over the brilliant white energy that made up her form. "Leave my Master alone, demon." Rjemdaj's did not come from her(or 'it', for Rjemdaj had no gender) mouth, but rather it eminated from all around, echoing in the minds of all present. Tesreail swallowed, his laimed hand trembling from the force with which he was clenching his fists against the table. <span style='color:gray'>"Rjemdaj... please..."</span> his voice was strained, and his brow damp with sweat as the creature of Fronima drew upon his own powers to keep it's quazi-phyical form.
He laughed at the sight of the creature, suddenly vanishing in a violet stream of smoke. If you will not open the walls for me, I will find another door, the demon said in a menicing tone. Baal sneered at the vanished demon, a strange energy forming in his hands. "Care to go demon hunting in Fronima?" he asked the other dragon, sticking out his hand. "I'm sorry for our first introduction, my name is Baal Deathwing, son of Diablous Deathwing, Guardian of Fronima". He was not scared of the demon, only under a silent curse, causing his muscles to seize. He reached into the lower area of the tattered, stained jacket he wore, pulling out two stones, one which was engraved, for my son. He handed the dragon the second stone, which appeared rather nomal, and plain. "This will allow one body to enter the deep Fronima realms for a period of ten hours, after that you will remain stuck, so be warned".
