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Literature Text
The world is stilled, the fighting all around ceases to exist, the smoking buildings, the raging fires all quiet for a singular moment.
Deep within hidden in the shadows of danger and death strides a figure, at first it seems alone but then MILLIONS join it, littering the horrizon as far as the eye can see with black dots in vaguely different shapes and sizes, all of them big, none of them small.
The lone figure stands tall in front of this unexpected army, a flutter of black and red, he is caped, the cape billow's out beyond his shoulders so that the muscularly toned outline of his body can be seen, his head tilt's downwards just as the underside of his cloak catches the low alternian sun, sending ray's of crimson across the whole plain, the fighting quieten's, not a word is spoken as all eyes turn to address him in muted respect, his facial fetures hidden by the hood pulled up and over his head, faint grey 'X's' are marked where the material is sewn together. Further down his outline reveal's a broad, muscled chest, slashed across the middle is the sign of 'blood' marking him out clearly as a player of blood and as a mutant, but wear's it's colour, HIS colour proudly. Faint grey lines travel from half way down his chest to half way above his knee's, the lines stop there and start to become long black boot's, matching the colour of his battle suit, long legs descend the boots, lifted up at the toe as he takes a few steps forward down out of the smoke.
Finally his head rises and his hood falls away just enough for his eyes to be seen by all, they are slim black slits to the whole world an unforgiving stare as they stream with crimson tear's. TEAR'S. Above his eyes black eyebrow's knit together in a saddened frown. Angry.
His cape continues to flutter as all stare in awe of him. "He has returned...!" voices whisper amongst themselves, all of those standing behind him on his silent signal begin to move after him, a wave of disciplined soliders of quality despite themselves. They will wipe every defiant look from the faces of their enemies. They will not be defeated, it is written they will never loose again. Because they never did before, this is all the proof anyone needs.
The army below them quakes, the soldiers are afeared, but those who looked on his divine face and his righteous stare are hardened in heart by what they see, unregistered fire and will restraining them from joining him on sight. The highbloods will never back down until it is TOO LATE.
Suddenly the 'returned one' raises his arm and all behind him raise their brutal weapons and charge on his spoken shout "GO!" it seems there will be no words of mercy, no hymns of prayer, all that is in his heart is retribution and ALL here will feel it.
Deep within hidden in the shadows of danger and death strides a figure, at first it seems alone but then MILLIONS join it, littering the horrizon as far as the eye can see with black dots in vaguely different shapes and sizes, all of them big, none of them small.
The lone figure stands tall in front of this unexpected army, a flutter of black and red, he is caped, the cape billow's out beyond his shoulders so that the muscularly toned outline of his body can be seen, his head tilt's downwards just as the underside of his cloak catches the low alternian sun, sending ray's of crimson across the whole plain, the fighting quieten's, not a word is spoken as all eyes turn to address him in muted respect, his facial fetures hidden by the hood pulled up and over his head, faint grey 'X's' are marked where the material is sewn together. Further down his outline reveal's a broad, muscled chest, slashed across the middle is the sign of 'blood' marking him out clearly as a player of blood and as a mutant, but wear's it's colour, HIS colour proudly. Faint grey lines travel from half way down his chest to half way above his knee's, the lines stop there and start to become long black boot's, matching the colour of his battle suit, long legs descend the boots, lifted up at the toe as he takes a few steps forward down out of the smoke.
The black suited material seems to cover all of his body, even down his arms till only his finger's are left free of their black prison. His yellow claw's curled under slightly with his finger's hung in open fists, around his wrists are two broken cuff's, one on either wrist; they glow a faint orange in colour as if they are burning, large ringlets stand on either end as if they strung high and held in place. The sight is almost frightening, for every soldier here know's what this means and every one of them will bow in defeat at his mercy by the time the sun has risen to dawn a new day.
Finally his head rises and his hood falls away just enough for his eyes to be seen by all, they are slim black slits to the whole world an unforgiving stare as they stream with crimson tear's. TEAR'S. Above his eyes black eyebrow's knit together in a saddened frown. Angry.
His cape continues to flutter as all stare in awe of him. "He has returned...!" voices whisper amongst themselves, all of those standing behind him on his silent signal begin to move after him, a wave of disciplined soliders of quality despite themselves. They will wipe every defiant look from the faces of their enemies. They will not be defeated, it is written they will never loose again. Because they never did before, this is all the proof anyone needs.
The army below them quakes, the soldiers are afeared, but those who looked on his divine face and his righteous stare are hardened in heart by what they see, unregistered fire and will restraining them from joining him on sight. The highbloods will never back down until it is TOO LATE.
Suddenly the 'returned one' raises his arm and all behind him raise their brutal weapons and charge on his spoken shout "GO!" it seems there will be no words of mercy, no hymns of prayer, all that is in his heart is retribution and ALL here will feel it.
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I wrote this buried by feel's because I'd seen too deep in the karkat fandom and I particularly love this picture.
So I just HAD to write for it. source on image here; [link] & [link]
I left open spaces for imagination even though I wrote this to be karkat as the reincarnation of the signless/sufferer which is why the outfit I described as in the picture isn't canon and talks of players. I wanted to write a battle scene but I got distracted and now I just can't be asked.
Homestuck & karkat/vantas's (C) Andrew Hussie
So I just HAD to write for it. source on image here; [link] & [link]
I left open spaces for imagination even though I wrote this to be karkat as the reincarnation of the signless/sufferer which is why the outfit I described as in the picture isn't canon and talks of players. I wanted to write a battle scene but I got distracted and now I just can't be asked.
Homestuck & karkat/vantas's (C) Andrew Hussie
© 2013 - 2024 TheAssholeProphet
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