NONNIE, NYX
HE/HIM
27
December 12
Ballonlea, Galar
andressexual
Enforcer
GRUNT
in the low lamplight i was free, heaven and hell were words to me
TAG WITH @straub
onyx straub
blooming through the black [ee, c]
POSTED ON Jul 4, 2023 23:04:10 GMT
[attr="class","membopan"] [attr="class","membopkmn"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon nidoran-m"] [attr="class","membopkmn"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon corviknight"] [attr="class","membopkmn"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon ponyta"] [attr="class","membo"] They don’t move like children-- they don’t move like anything normal, constrained by flesh and blood and bone. They’re just shadows, here and there and gone again, the suggestion of motion in a direction and then a complete 360* shift, with a vague, warping sound like speakers blowing.
Onyx has no qualms about punching children, especially not freaky, button-eyed, misshapen ones like this. But they don’t seem to be focusing on him, and for a moment, that gives him hope. He turns away from Ignis’ inferno to grab Andres and tell him to run, again, why aren’t they running, but he’s spun right into--
--it is a memory. One for both of them.
Chuchi yips and cries as even her seemingly unbridled ferocity is brought to heel under the thunder of kid boots and sticks, a mockery of laughter and sneers cutting the air sharper than any blade.
One of the children has dark hair, dark skin, and blue eyes, but when he lifts his face, a shadow obscures his right one, the dark of it slipping off his cheek like liquid ichor.
Onyx swallows. He’s back on a couch under the shadow of a meteor when someone tells him they love him and all he can imagine is the feel of metal crunching against bone, skin splitting in his hand.
You shouldn’t.
Chuchi arches and curls, writhing.
You shouldn’t.
I’m bad for you.
I don’t think you understand.
They’re both caught, adrift, drowning; Onyx’s stomach threatens to reorient itself in his body cavity and he wants to look away before he vomits but he forces himself to look and to see. Because it hadn’t bothered him at the moment, had it? When he’d been doing it?
It was like any old hurt. Any old pain. Look it in the eye. Sear it into your mind. Eventually, it stops hurting.
But when had this started hurting?
As things are reaching a fever pitch there’s a raucous cawing noise from above and an angel drops in on darkened wings. Ziadem lands protectively over Chuchi, scattering the shadow children with broad flaps; her talons come gently around the Eevee and lift her.
Vatin rushes in from the woods, the earth around him warping and shifting with earth power. He carves a valley between Zia, Chuchi, and the shadows; Ignis adds another blast of inferno, and the dark shapes burn away with horrendous, tortured screams, not like children but something otherworldly.
The snap of heat gets Onyx moving. He strides forward, grabbing Andres arm and dragging him-- he’ll apologize later, he can only imagine what kind of memories that is dredging up-- forward. He pushes the unconscious child into his chest and physically wraps Andres’ arms around him, then grabs him at the waist and lifts him, sidesaddle, onto Zia.
“Get out of here!” he says, jumping back so she can lift into the air, Chuchi still held safely in her talons. All he needs now is for Andres to not fall off; the raven teeters in the air to balance him as she struggles to gain height.
He, Vatin, and Ignis turn once more toward the gathering shadows.
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