[M] crash, crash out of control

Ezekiel de le Poer · 06-21-2012, 05:52 AM

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omg yes. official policy.

The smoke did not clear his head as much as it muted the doubt. Doubt was the voice of the Devil, and impulse—and therefore instinct—was the truest God. Ezekiel took a third drag and finally felt his body begin to respond. His eyes remained sharp even as the drug settled into the caverns of his thoughts and filled them with gentle comfort. Aching ribs no longer hurt so bad, though he was aware of them. He was carefully and cautiously aware of all of his wounds but even more careful in his display of them. As far as Inferni was concerned, Ezekiel did not suffer. He knew, and his healer knew, but this was their bond and their silence. This was why Enkiel had agreed to come with him.

“Inferni needs someone like you,” he echoed, and a warm wind swept his hair from his face. Smoke rose in a faint purplish hue from the joint, trapped between two fingers the color of old blood. “These people,” and he spoke of them as if they were strangers now, and somehow different from him. “They need someone they can love. I was never that person—my father was, and Kaena was, but not me.” This too, he believed. Ezekiel was a man who had never fit within the confines or the aspirations of others. He simply belonged to an older, darker road. “It has to be you, Myrika.”

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