Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
Oh Seraphina, do not mistake Raum for fragile. A man untrained for war does not make him fragile – most certainly not when he is in the height of his prime (as Raum is). There is nothing delicate or so easily frangible about Raum, for frailty and fragility would not have helped him fight Isra the Night Queen (blood for blood and magic for magic – they had been an equal pair that night). Fragile would also not have allowed him to pin a fellow Crow by the throat or stab a once-god to near death...
Raum is taller that Seraphina. He is muscled and lean, fine, yes, but not fragile. But Raum has the hot, agile blood of an Arabian and the speed of a thoroughbred surging through his heart. As a gift of both, Raum is so frighteningly fast. It is how he has spent his 7 years gathering ghosts – fast enough to kill each one with his dagger and escape with his life. No one unable to fight could ever acquire such achievements.
It is electric joy, sick and bright, that slips through him as his blue eyes watch blood begin to weep from the wound upon Seraphina’s forelimb. With such a move, might she be slower now? She may likely tip to her other forelimb… favour that and not the other. From the distance between them, Raum studies Sera, he looks for how she instinctively guards – he will aim for the body part she leans upon most. That is what Raum was trained to do: a methodical takedown. He also never aimed to rush his murders and so, when Seraphina does not move, he too settles back.
Raum stops moving as she speaks, his skull tilts like a Crow and he rests the hind limb on his injured side. It is a chance to rest the aching muscle of his back, the one that took her landing blow. It might have been a risky place to be struck, but his back is strong and muscle heals better than bone and tendon. A strike to his face might have blinded him, affected his breathing, his ability to think clearly – so many things… Yes, this, oh this, is easier.
He smiles at her words and, for all his beauty, his smile is a monstrous thing. It is a rictus splitting his face; it is poison in the air. “Are you so sure of that?” Raum’s voice is silk in the dusty air their battle has made. “A kingdom with an absent queen lends itself to low morale. If I win, at least they would have a present king.” He would have laughed if he knew how she labeled him a tyrant. Yes, he will be a tyrant, he will rule with an iron fist and seek only chaos and destruction. Raum fights now for no reason other than chaos, to hurt the world as much as it hurt him. “I will enjoy turning your Court to ashes and dust.”
His gaze is silver punishment and it does not lift from Seraphina. Always Raum is the one to strike first, his anger peaked before any other. But not this day, this day he settles back and waits as Seraphina waits for him. They stand as two titans set for war, two storms rolling into one another. He wants to see her move, he wants to see how she limps, how she uses herself with her injury. Raum is a learner after all.
“Ladies first, your Majesty.” And in defiance (since the space between them is plenty and his electric eyes watch her all the while), Raum lowers into a mocking bow.
((ah, he is a Grade A –insert chosen swearword here. But I am rather grateful for your nothing post, I have been super sick so it has given me a reprieve :) . We can kick off again <3))
@
Summary: Raum watched how the wound was affecting Seraphina. Took her bait, threatened to ruin Day Court. Continued to be rude and waits for her to attack.
Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 1
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: N/A
Response Deadline: 10/2
Tags: @
![[Image: x341oLX.png]](https://i.imgur.com/x341oLX.png)
You're one microscopic cog
in his catastrophic plan
in his catastrophic plan
