Advent of Chaos

7

~

Toryn had always been one to lead, to carry, so at odds with the man that was now hissing at his wound, clenching and unclenching his fist with a sort of unending rage that he had never really become accustomed to. It was rare for Toryn to be unleashed in such ways, for he always appeared calm and collected in the most dire of situations.

Looking down at the spike now wedged into a deep gash-- his wrist was trembling, and he saw the blood dribbling down before he actually felt it. "Why the hell isn't this damn thing coming out?" He glanced over at himself in the mirror, his fairly tanned chest exposed, and his wrist coated in blood. His lower half remained covered where he sat, and he thanked the Traveler for this when Ankou entered the room, hands braced on the doorframe for a moment before he slipped through.

"Having trouble?" The Englishman smiled mockingly.
"It couldn't have been that bad, come on." Ankou's robes were discarded at the sink, and he slipped on a grey tunic, buttoning it up just below the collar. He didn't much care that his companion saw him, didn't care if he was watching, either.

"You know, if you'd look at it, you'd understand." Toryn grunted again, his unharmed hand braced on the spike. "I swear, it's not coming out. It must be bound to its victim or something." He felt it grow thicker, and winced.
"Give me your wrist." Ankou said as he approached, holding out his left hand. When Toryn did so, Ankou grasped the spike, its texture almost as smooth as carved obsidian. But he didn't let it go, and instead tugged viciously on its length. It responded by sending waves of pain through Toryn, but he bit back his agonies. He'd faced much worse, anyways.

After about a minute, Ankou had managed to ease it out of Toryn's wrist. In the last moments, he watched in horror as it was torn from his wrist-- taking a chunk of flesh with it. The black, slimy spike reeked of poison so badly, the two almost tasted it. Ankou set the bloody thing down on the low table beside them, and released Toryn's wrist. The first thing he could think to do was rush for bandages, leaving a wincing Toryn to a festering wound showering his arm and chest with a deep crimson.

A moment later, he returned with a towel, and bandage wraps-- then proceeded to tightly wrap his wrist. Wounds were...unusual for guardians to suffer through. Usually, their armor protected them from any such thing-- but these beasts weren't any enemies of Darkness, and Toryn knew that much. They hadn't even been recorded in the system, he also found upon searching the grimoire.

"These things are coated with poison. Let's hope the effects aren't drastic." Toryn cupped his own face, rubbing anxiously what he knew too well to be stress dancing on his features. His friend began speaking the question before he could even think of it.

"But what does Mora have anything to do with this? These beasts?" Ankou rubbed a scar across his bare face-- from his left brow to below his eye. Where Mora had left her mark. He wondered if it was a warning, from years ago. But he quickly brushed away those thoughts, facing the doorway to the ship's lounge, which led to two more rooms.
"I'm going to go check on her." He declared, but was stopped as he felt Toryn firmly grasp his arm.

"She probably doesn't want anyone around right now." Toryn countered, but Ankou shook away his grasp like loose clothing.

"I'll go anyways. I'm not afraid of her." His eyes flickered with something of naivety, but Toryn knew it wasn't any such thing that coursed through his companion. So he dropped his extended arm, shaking his head slowly.

"If she mauls you again, don't come crying back to me." He joked, but Ankou only rolled his eyes as he exited Toryn's chambers.