[ The shadow that grows to dance with the fire has glowing eyes rather than a hollow stare. The last part of their former self, the child who suffocated under the stifling mask and succumbed.
They're caught up in the dance created for them, for a moment. They chase their opponent, thinking of nothing else but fighting, the impersonal point of a nail and the fire of battle, and for a moment that is what satisfies them best.
But the stuttering heartbeat distracts them, something other than their newfound excitement for combat seeping in. The sound is familiar; not from their dreams, but mirrored in reality.
(The sound is painful - not to them, but to another. The heartbeat of something under strain, under stress.
In pain.)
This is a dream. Yes. But dreams affect reality, they understand that.
This heart is-
When their opponent starts to pelt them with fireballs, they dodge as best they can, though they're struck and almost overwhelmed. But they hold on, regardless.
But when the onslaught ends, their nail is no longer in hand. Not melted away by the fire's heat; simply dismissed. Their wielder doesn't want it, not any more.
Something in them has changed. When they raise their head to look at the Nightmare King, there is a spark of light glowing in what was once a previously empty eyesocket. It illuminates their left 'eye', a roiling red flame with a white-hot core.
Rather than offer their nail, they offer an outstretched hand to the Nightmare King instead. ]
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They're caught up in the dance created for them, for a moment. They chase their opponent, thinking of nothing else but fighting, the impersonal point of a nail and the fire of battle, and for a moment that is what satisfies them best.
But the stuttering heartbeat distracts them, something other than their newfound excitement for combat seeping in. The sound is familiar; not from their dreams, but mirrored in reality.
(The sound is painful - not to them, but to another. The heartbeat of something under strain, under stress.
In pain.)
This is a dream. Yes. But dreams affect reality, they understand that.
This heart is-
When their opponent starts to pelt them with fireballs, they dodge as best they can, though they're struck and almost overwhelmed. But they hold on, regardless.
But when the onslaught ends, their nail is no longer in hand. Not melted away by the fire's heat; simply dismissed. Their wielder doesn't want it, not any more.
Something in them has changed. When they raise their head to look at the Nightmare King, there is a spark of light glowing in what was once a previously empty eyesocket. It illuminates their left 'eye', a roiling red flame with a white-hot core.
Rather than offer their nail, they offer an outstretched hand to the Nightmare King instead. ]