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[7-July-2021][Guilty Gear] God of War
Title: God of War
Day/Prompt: 7-July-2021
Fandom: Guilty Gear
Character/Pairing: Ky/Sol
Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up
The God of War, Ky thinks, is what they call him. Sol sails through the battlefield sword in hand, caring little for a steed or stallion when his own legs do him just fine. He's a well-oiled machine, pushing fire tongues from his ashed fingers, estranged from the despair of common soldiers, engaged in calamity; Sol catches the tiniest hair, the vaguest scent--- then preys like a hound dog.
But then, beautiful. In strike, in aggression, in all the things hidden behind and entrenched bone deep in that gruff demeanor. Ky doesn't call him that and never will. He's Sol. He's human enough for passion, yet not afraid of pain. That's what makes them alike. They have their own private grief, but also the strength to see it and turn from it, because of the gift that war gives them; the ability to fight back. But sometimes, Ky isn't completely sure 'til he catches Sol lips making out the vaguest prayer, and then, it's like his whole world shifts. Sometimes, he catches Sol looking into the distance, murmuring a name with the sound of 'A', but it could be longing, not grief.
Yet, Ky is confident it's proof of Sol's humanity.
Ares, Ky then remembers, is the Grecian God of War whom sailed upon the side of Trojans, caring little of victory, only the fight.
But deep down, Ky knows Sol's here for a reason beyond his greatest knowledge. He fights among the ash of buildings crushed years ago, Sol's saved him countless times, and he's saved others thousands. That must mean something good.
Ares isn't beautiful. He's estranged from beauty.
Sol shoots a grin at the young face before him, teeth bared. He pulls at the neck of his uniform, shrugging at the Gears surrounding him, sending off sun-hot fire the instant a scale bristles. Ky swings his own sword and cuts down walls with lightning mixed with Sol's burning, hot fire. The flashing lights strike him right.
But you aren't. No, not estranged from beauty at all.
Day/Prompt: 7-July-2021
Fandom: Guilty Gear
Character/Pairing: Ky/Sol
Rating/Warning(s): Teen and Up
The God of War, Ky thinks, is what they call him. Sol sails through the battlefield sword in hand, caring little for a steed or stallion when his own legs do him just fine. He's a well-oiled machine, pushing fire tongues from his ashed fingers, estranged from the despair of common soldiers, engaged in calamity; Sol catches the tiniest hair, the vaguest scent--- then preys like a hound dog.
But then, beautiful. In strike, in aggression, in all the things hidden behind and entrenched bone deep in that gruff demeanor. Ky doesn't call him that and never will. He's Sol. He's human enough for passion, yet not afraid of pain. That's what makes them alike. They have their own private grief, but also the strength to see it and turn from it, because of the gift that war gives them; the ability to fight back. But sometimes, Ky isn't completely sure 'til he catches Sol lips making out the vaguest prayer, and then, it's like his whole world shifts. Sometimes, he catches Sol looking into the distance, murmuring a name with the sound of 'A', but it could be longing, not grief.
Yet, Ky is confident it's proof of Sol's humanity.
Ares, Ky then remembers, is the Grecian God of War whom sailed upon the side of Trojans, caring little of victory, only the fight.
But deep down, Ky knows Sol's here for a reason beyond his greatest knowledge. He fights among the ash of buildings crushed years ago, Sol's saved him countless times, and he's saved others thousands. That must mean something good.
Ares isn't beautiful. He's estranged from beauty.
Sol shoots a grin at the young face before him, teeth bared. He pulls at the neck of his uniform, shrugging at the Gears surrounding him, sending off sun-hot fire the instant a scale bristles. Ky swings his own sword and cuts down walls with lightning mixed with Sol's burning, hot fire. The flashing lights strike him right.
But you aren't. No, not estranged from beauty at all.