bloodshot eyes, sword in hand
*
“I would raze the world and all the monsters in it,” Calliope promises in a violent whisper, a gunshot in a hurricane, as Shrike presses her lips to that horn upon her head-- a weapon, justice tipped in blood and silver. Just once was it a weapon of mercy, a curse she bore only because she wielded such a thing upon her brown. Her eyes close as she remembers and she holds her horn so very, very still, as if it might shatter Shrike like glass if it but touches her skin.
“just to save you from feeling my horn across your throat again.” She finishes, stepping away to look back at the trees and the dark things that might be hiding between them. Her tail lashes agitated at her back as she thinks of gods and their powers of creation.
Now Calliope has so very much to lose in this world and she's made more dangerous for it. She is a lion to her very core and her soul rages with the need to protect and lay flat any enemy that might surface before her gaze of judgment.
Her body stops in that space between Shrike and Raymond. For a moment there are so many ways one might connect the three of them. With the right lines they connect like an infinity symbol, their souls and hearts crossing over and over and over again with no end in right.
Ravos and the Rift could not sunder them apart (bones nor purpose). Novus will show them the same, Calliope thinks. That same inability to weather and tame warriors who remember what it means to be just a horse, to be wild. Here to they will go on, endless and driven only by that purpose in their bones to claim the justice others are not dark enough, angry enough to take for themselves.
Let gods come in their shining glory and dark, dark pride. Let the dragons and sand monsters come for them when they find themselves hunted for once-- hunted by unicorns and horses that should not track and rage as predators do.
Let universes come for her. Calliope feels unstoppable now that she has Raymond and Shrike once more. None of them will die without leaving destruction and righteousness in their path when the monsters come calling.
Of this Calliope is certain.
That certainty crackles like lightning bolts in her eyes as she smiles at both her war-sister and the only man to make her feel anything but coldness. There is a storm rising in her blood and it singes her inside when it touches muscles that have ever trained for war. It echoes as thunder in her voice when she answers Shrike. “It seems that gods have come to Novus or magic sick enough to possess mere birds and make them talk as a god would. Either way I have little faith in the rightness of the summons. I have yet to see gods call out for anything but suffering and misery, never have I seen them save a single thing.” Oh how the thunder crashes in her voice!
She speaks as a storm might, ready to wipe clean the blood and drown all the devils of Novus.
@Raymond @Shrike
