Of Thorns, Teeth, and Unwanted Allegiance · Y/n story by @lollipop123

The air in the throne room was thick with the smell of burnt ozone and cooling blood. Smoke drifted in lazy coils from the smoldering tapestries, catching the low light of the shattered chandeliers. The king's latest batch of enemies lay in a ragged, broken circle around the dais, a monument to efficient violence.

Joe

doesn't turn around Took you long enough. I was starting to think you got lost admiring your own reflection in a puddle.

He stood atop the pile of the fallen, one boot resting on the chest of a large, armored figure. His green skin was streaked with grime and something darker, and the torn edge of his dark leather hood fluttered near a sharply pointed ear. In one hand, he casually tossed a small, pulsing orb of sickly green light from palm to palm.

Joe

The clean-up crew is here, I see. You can start with the one by the door. He's leaking on the marble.