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[ΦShadowToxin]

Victory was a sweet sweet thing, so sweet that the feel of it was heavy in the air as slitted eyes roved the expance of leatherbound books and scrolls...Or rather the ones that were not incinerated and laying in piles of ash and rubble atleast. But unpreturbed Giz chuckled as he selected a few choise books from the shelves, two on the art of his belovid weaponry (not that he needed the knowledge, he already knew his bombs inside and out, but it was good to see what the enemy thought of his trade atleast.) And a few odd selections, books of poetry, not for him of course, but a small tip off from his razor had told him that Yammer could read, and that she had an infatuation for the slick sugared verses that he mostly found irritating. However he was not dull enough to know that poetry was only sweet words, his eyes even skimming the lines of the more darker poems, in meer curiosity of course.

But satisfied with his stack of literature, the scaled teen slid out from the remaining rows of shelvings, and placed the books on a table, where his supplies were.

"You...Are a total suckup." Drawled a voice however, breaking him from his thoughts, only to turn his lazy bright green cat's eyes over to the razor dragon, who had found the door plesantly wide enough to slither himself threw, and now to lounge on the floors and rub his tainted smell all over the formerly sekkian area. He wasnt anywhere near ready or mentally mature enough NOT to rub his smell all over the remains of the academy, claiming it as his for the time being.

"Yes," came the equally drawling reply, with a hint of self satisfaction in it. "But you see, thats why I have a lover, and you are a poor poor little male with no one to ease your desires upon." He retorted, cracking a wide, almost demeaning cheshire grin upon the razor, whom promply puffed himself up like an irate gryphon, and scowled deeply at him.

Satisfied with the retort that shut the razor clad dragon up, the tainted rider heaved himself into the chair, and set himself onto his supplies. Empty bomb shells were filled with black powder, some inlaid with shed scales from Sevyr (having found those to be fare more efficient, and noticeably lighter, than his normal shrapenel) then combined with a fuse, and sealed on an equally packed side. Some ranged in types of powder, from highly explosive gunpowder, to phospher powder that would give off a blinding flash of light, some also had the tendancy to give off a noxious gas when burned, to inhibit the breathing of his opponent. Each bomb was given proper care, like how a father would tend to a child, then finished and placed into the specally made harness of his own make. And after his bombs were done, he was content to let the excess black powder sear into the top of the table he was working with, scorching into the polished wood like a sickness would mark a victim.

[βBalustriad]

((Bawhaww. I liked it better when the Taint was controlling the Acadamy, so, TIMEWARP >8D ))

It was now that all of her hard work seemed to pay off. All of the trauma she had been put through, the prejudice, how she had suffered in those two long years.. Now the Sekkains were scattered to the winds and the ones that had been to slow in fleeing were staked upon the battlements like grisly banners, their rotting limbs swaying gently in the wind. Yammerkin swelled her chest in pride as she looked up at those stuck corpses, her lips broken at the sides to allow an inhuman grin to open up her cheeks. Her smile was made even more horrible to look at by the rows of sharp yellow teeth that glittered inside her mouth and the little trickles of blood that dripped down her chin. The shark-like teeth that had grown quickly from the roof of her mouth and alongside her human teeth always seemed to cut her toungue or gums. It was a nuisance, but not too much of a bother.

She was grinning, because it had been mostly her idea to impale the bodies up there where everyone could see them. After the battle had been won and the lesser Taints, including she and Magoria, were routing the last of the Sekkains from the building, she had come across the charred, half-eaten body of a human, that some young Fire had impaled upon a spear to prevent escape. While Magoria had simply devoured what was left of the victim in great, chomping bites, she had been struck by an epiphany of sorts. Immediately she let her dragon in on the secret of her jollity and the pair had set to dragging out corpses and rounding up any survivors that had squirreled themselves away in cracks and holes. The living joined the pile of corpses, after a small hiatus, and before long Magoria was busy transporting bodies up to suitable battlements at the peak of the Acadamy where he arranged them under Yammer's careful tutelage.

Now that the rear of the collossal building had been decorated as much as physically possible by one rider pair and there was only one body yet to be carted upwards, Yammer could enjoy the asthetic value of what she had masterminded. She had a harder job convincing Magoria, who's task it had been to lift each and every one of those bodies hundreds of feet into the air, but she thought deep inside he was pleased too at the effort they had made for their Lord.

With a powerful boost from his hind legs Magoria leapt into the air once again, shattered cobblestones flying from beneath his feet to clatter down onto the wreckage below. Straddling his wide neck, Yammer threw her head back and took a great whiff of the foul-smelling breeze that beat around her. In her blood-smeared arms was held the thin body of a girl, probably no more than 15 years old when she had been disembowled by the claws of a Rosemary. Hilarious irony considering the apprentice robes she was wearing. On the way up it was pure chance that a silver glitter managed to catch her eye in the dim reccesses of the ruined library. She halted her Sonic in mid-flight with a curious chirp and directed his attention over to the gaping mouth in the Acadamy architecture where their Lord's tail had smote the building. It was by far the worst damage the building had sustained, the entire back wall of the library demolished in a single blow and leaving the expansive building open to the elements. She could detect movement inside; a scintillating, metallic glimmer that her foggy memory still found familiar..

Magoria confirmed her suspicions by sniffing the air and instantly erupting into irascible snarls, his wings twisting backwards to fling himself and Yammer violently away from the exposed building in a storm of growls and grunting bellows. Yammer cackled with bright amusement, her partner having given away the identity of those in the library as surely as if she had seen them herself. Only the supercilious Razor that was bonded to her Gizman could provoke such an immediate reaction.

"Ga'an git in dere y'gret lummox! Ain't a chance in de Des-o-lay-shun det yer goan gitout o' seein' det jumped-up Razor iffin it means I gitta see Gizzo. " Eagerly and any argument from her outraged Sonic notwithstanding, Yammer bullied and kicked her partner into turning back and landing upon the unsteady perch that was the lip of the gaping hole in the archives. Sandstone crumbled beneath his paws even before he had put his weight down, forcing the Sonic to abandon his perch or bull his way further into the archives, and his choice was made for him when Yammer threw the stinking body of the medic over her boney shoulder and leapt nimbly from her dragon's neck without a glance back.

"YAMMER!" Magoria snarled, quickly clambering forward while the marble floor fell apart under him. His spines bristled with frustration as he quickly had to thrust his way past fallen shelves and walls as he followed his rider deeper into the archives, where things were less open, meaning it was a tighter squeeze for the 56ft Sonic. Crudely he shouldered aside splintered beams and trod upon fallen scrolls without a care for what he destroyed, but it was rather a struggle and soon he found himself wallowing in seas of debri, his jutting breastbone and elephantine chest wedging him solidly in the rubble. Once he came to realise this his snarls nearly brought down the roof, roaring and bellowing such as he was at Yammer, who had left him for dust.

Yammer, of course, had perfected the art of ignoring the un-ignorable over many years of living side-by-side with the volatile Sonic whos tendancy to bellow was a daily occurance. Blithely she shut her ears to his snorting and growling and proceeded to clamber deeper into the wreck of the archives. Her prize wasn't too hard to find at all, the glistening Razor was like a mirror for every stray bit of light that wound its way into the mess and acted as a homing beacon for his rider. And there the Taint was. Those ridiculously oversized pants with their cunning compartments draped over some rickety chair that had managed to escape demolition, and he inside them. The peach torso with reptilian scales and silver maggots winding up his flat, toned stomach.. How he managed to keep such a physique she didn't know. Her own body seemed to be stuck halfway between emaciated and well-fed. If anyone had suggested alcohol she would have laughed and cut their throat. Such a silly blasphemy. She giggled obscenely at her own absurd thoughts and darted forward now that she was within proper range. Her bare feet, so black with grime she could've been walking in paint, slapped loudly against the back of a fallen shelf as she sprang from perch to perch and slid with an oily screech across the marble floor. The mutilated body slipped off her narrow shoulder and fell to the ground with a meaty thwack as Yammer, the picture of childish delight, tugged her scythe free and hooked it around the Taint's neck, securing him with blade and arm so that she was free to rest her chin in the hollow of his neck and nip daintily at the sensitive skin along his jaw, courtesy of the Taint's effects. If her pally turned one of his great, green peepers he would see, out of the corner of his eye, glittering teeth transcending her lips and splitting her dirty, sunken cheeks like gorey crescents. Sniggering at the thought, Yammer paused momentarily to make idle talk with her 'victim'.

"Oh, boyo, di'n't 'spect ter see y'here. Whuzza foul sprat sich as yerself doin' in sicha place?.. "
Her own inhuman eyes, great orbs of blood and silt, wandered across the desk he sat at as her voice trailed away into a dirty hiss. The instruments of his clever explosive devices lay scattered carefully on the tabletop, which had been cleared to make room for not only his intricate casings and alchemial substances but a few scrolls and leather-bound tomes as well. Being the conniseur of fine literature she was, she couldn't help but be intrigued at what his reading selection was, or whether the collection was simply fortunate enough to escape incineration.

[ΦShadowToxin]

Sevyr hefted a hard sigh at suddenly hearing a massive clamor behind him, twards where the fresh (or rather as fresh as the stagnant and rot scented air could be) filtered in from, aka: the gaping hole that was their tainted lords tail swing. The razor dragon knew the bellowing sounds of frustration that the sonic made, and swung his head in a sneer, scales bristling in irritation at the disturbance of his peace and quiet. But a disbuting hiss from the blue haired boy only feet away had the razor quelling, placing his head back down on his forpaws and letting his eyes close most of the ways, he was in no mood to deal with Phantasmagoria at that particular moment.

And meanwhile, the blue haired lad himself meerly turned back, knowing that his Yammer was coming, it was only a matter of time, so busied himself with settling on rechecking his preacious bombs, his harness drapped almost languishly across one of the corners of the table, almost catlike in its appearance. And it felt good to have the thing off, his legs could be free, for the most part, the glittering crystal imbedded in the waiststraps however, seemed to peer back at him, as if watching.

But his fantisful thoughts were soon broken, the thup-thup-thup-thup of all to familiar footsteps sounded behind him, and just as he was turning, the cool edge of a blade slid around his neck, accopanied by a twiggy arm, his slitted eyes widening in surprise. He usually never remembered how fast Yammkin could be, this instance to standing testament to that fact, and soon he found himself pinned. Though he didnt struggle, infact he grinned, feeling the teeth slide along his partally scaled jawline, giving an inhuman thrumming sound in responce, from somewhere in the pit of his throat, and allowing his eyes to roll, to peer at the vicious teeth that were held smiling next to his face.

"Oh, ya's know me," he gently purred, gesturing with his long claws twards the desk. "I run out of my bombs quickly." He exlained, voice dripping with unwithheld sadistic glee at the end of his statement, turning his head what bit he could to bear his own needlepoint teeth upwards, into a wild man's grin.

But soon he gave a soft chriping sound, brightening his eyes twards the table, and without moving his neck or head, Giz carefully plucked one of the more 'pretty' looking of the books he found, even if that ment it being the less blood stained of them all. And carefully held it over a shoulder, with a coy grin.

"A spikey birdy tol' me that you liked this...poetry stuff." He carefully worded out, eyes rolling back to watch the female's reaction, hoping it would be one for the better. "Took it 'pon m'self ta find some o' thems for ya." He beamed, rather proud of his small showing, even if the taint were cruel heartless bastards, they could still have their softish moments, even if it was done with a blade around their necks.