[b]Iccirus City | Night | (13)[b]
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"Well let's get going then!" The Gardevoir says with a cheerful smile, clasping his hands together and smiling light-heartedly at the little Axew's attempt to climb from the bowl-like depression of loose sand-like rubble.
The Charmeleon with the unique skin patterns seems to be in control of this little group and he's been doing a good job of it so far. Unwittingly his pause for a reply has revealed more than he has intended. Mind-reading was never a specialty of the Gardevoir's, his talent had been developed towards looking as alluring as possible for the judges, but at this range emotions of a certain strength were almost tangible.
He could read on the Fire Type a single sliver of memory; the cold of ice.
"Gorgeous place, at night the entire mountain side shone with tail flames like a forest filled with stars." His mouth babbles on as he processes this new piece of information. "But never mind that, I just want to say welcome to the party and I'm sure we're going to be very good friends!" He bows deeply and elegantly, the folds of his white skirt billowing out around him and winks reassuringly at the trapinch who, eyes flashing with strange light as the ground settles around them, seems to regard him with a look of innocent curiousity he hasn't seen since his 'child' left him.
"I'll call Hayato back." The Gardevoir closes his eyes, raising his conscious mind from the place his body was to seek out Hayato's presence. He was no Kadabra to bend reality as easy as a spoon but there was a deep emotional bond that linked his mind to the Honchkrow's, whether or not Hayato wanted to admit it.
Return. is the message he sends, as much in emotion as in a word. He was missing the reassuring presence of the black feathered bird.
Then the sandy-scaled Dratini had asked why she should trust them in a voice that sounded almost rusty from disuse. Certainly she did not seem to be much of a talker which makes her question an ominous one.
Kaze is preparing his reply when the ground shivers faintly underfoot at the serpentine dragon immeidatly slithers off towards its source.
"We'd better go after her right...Emett." He says, using the Charmeleon's name in the sentance so he won't forget it. It's a good thing that they were interrupted as the only answer Kaze could think of was that it was better than getting eaten by Hayato.
Swiftly scrambling up the loose ground of the now shallower depression Kaze cheerfully runs ahead, admiring the tension behind these events. It makes him excited to see what the city has to offer. As he approaches he can only see the dark shape of a crouched shadow.
"Hey there, PC or NPC?" He calls out, hoping they have wandered onto a boss fight. Nothing speeds up bonding like killing monsters together.
His beak opens in a happy sigh as he falls backwards and squirms in the mess like a Spearow taking a dust-bath. Blood and other less pleasant substances smear his feathers and bring with them the stench of the vilest of undead as torn free flesh splits open and coats his feathers.
For a few moments the large Dark Type basks in the glow of his triumph. Even if the animate corpses he has exhausted himself slaughtering could not fill his belly afterwards he enjoys the slaughter and being able to at long last fill his aching stomach with the soft tender flesh of those not struck by the rot.
He sighs as he slumps back into the gore, feeling the cooling blood seep through his feathers to his skin. A small convulsion, a sudden stiffening of muscles raises his monochrome feathers as a thought not of his own fills his mind with a strange feeling of warmth.
Return. is the word that whispers across his synapses and Hayato sneers as much as one can with a beak. It had to be Kaze, only Kaze can imbue a mental broadcast with an aura of sunshine and rainbows. So Prettyboy wanted him back already, the Gardevoir couldn't look after himself for five minutes.
His playtime finished the charcoal feathered bird dips his beak into the waters around the Dragonspiral Tower as he washed the worst of the gore from his beak and talons. Around him the red stains billow out into the water.
Happily he flicks his wingtips, a few stray droplets flying from the night-black feather tips to splatter the ground around him as he runs his long sharp beak over each feather, grooming with more care than a wild Honchkrow without a mate normally would as he takes care to discard the loose feathers still stuck to his plumage and to straighten out the others before he takes flight.
He washes thoroughly as he preens himself, making sure any trace of the infected blood is off his feathers.
The disease is likely to spread through the waterways, corrupting all those that take it in but Hayato cannot care less about that as he preens.
The water ripples around him as the inhabitants of the lake where the spiralling tower had been built flee the spreading stain of red. The Honchkrow watches the wriggling silhouettes of the water type's swimming away with his bright red eyes. He may no longer be hungry but it has become his custom to carry back his prey so the experience could be shared with Kaze, if not the meat. Perhaps the Axew was brave enough to try pokeflesh or perhaps bringing home a prize still writhing in his grasp could serve as intimidation to let Kaze's 'friends' know who was really in charge.
Hyato's beak shoots out and spears through the shape of a wriggling Goldeen, plunging into its soft white flesh as it waves it orange patterned tail helplessly in an attempt to swim away. Further blood clouds the now murky red water and the Honchkrow flips the water-type from the water, dark talons closing tightly around its round body as Hayato shakes the last few drops of water from his feathers and takes wing.