Shut up, Envy. Your voice is like the cackle of joints rubbing together.
And Envy whispers a laugh from the shadows where the firelight fails to illuminate, and
raises twinkling eyes to her outraged twin, then lowers the rim of her glass and touches it
against the glass in Greed's hand.
Wrath, can't you calm your anger? Do you need the Ice Warden to do something?
Wrath, you have no aesthetics at all.

Wrath is uncontrollable.
Blood and fire branded the ground she stepped on, pounding the warlike intent in the bones of the Emperor.
In the days when Wrath prowled the earth, the roar of the Emperor made it impossible for the Gods to sleep in peace.
The firstborn, abandoned by the Lightweaver, returned to earth in their wake.
The Deities had to leave their protracted battles with each other and condescend to clean up the mess in the lower realms.
If Pride is the cardinal sin,
then Wrath is the one that gives them a headache.
Suddenly she erupts, destroying everything, and suddenly she subsides.
Dragging her tattered, bloodstained bandages.
Fervent believers believe the Wildclaw has always been in her favor.
The roar of a dying warrior is a hymn to Wrath.
Wrath has never been a stickler for formality, the haughty sanctuary she never once steps foot in.
In the same way she loathes her twin sister.
Poison is never more powerful than a single decapitation.
No Aesthetics
Shut up
The great sin has birthed two sides of the mirror, and she and she are each one of them.
But they are both essentially indistinguishable.
Praise Wrath, praise the flame.




天际的霰霞被大地上的红光晕染，遍地的尸骸交织出战争的暮霭。她伫立于骸骨的正中央，红色的幕帘在这个舞台上缓缓垂降。炽热的眼眸被血色再度染红，四散的怒火吞噬着最后的遗骨。红镰上的血珠被贪婪的暴食尽数舔舐，宣告了这场厮杀最后的结局。
时间回溯到这一切的始端，战场的风景仍是旷心怡然。微风夹杂着生命的气息，清泉奔流过旷野的土地，阳光投下的树荫斑驳灵动，带动了万物之间无形的律动。美好的事物终会被暗中的力量窥视，暴怒的无常也被当作无尽的能量驱使。她拖动的镰刀划动着走过大地，寄宿其中的暴食撕裂着周围的生命。猩红的眼眸睥睨着和平，舒展的利爪是对它最后的敬意。交战的双方也能察觉到天色的异样，暴怒的气息早已弥漫在战场，每个战士的血液因愤怒而沸扬，原本的目的也早已被遗忘。而暴怒的代言却端坐在场，对战争的渴望让她血脉喷张。
“顺着杀戮的本性死于战场，这便是生命最耀眼的闪光。”
镰刀的锋芒穿透血肉的壁墙，飞溅的血花带来精神的升华，利爪掠过维系生命的筋脉，跳动的心脏也被逐一刺穿。她脸上的笑容逐渐清晰明朗，这是她内心深处压抑许久的热浪，灼烧着战场上一切活物，就连神灵遇见也会选择避让。交战的双方逐渐变成为她搭建的舞场，红色的精灵如影般穿梭于战争的天堂，身后留下的是遍地肢体的残渣，就连幽灵也不会选择在此处继续游荡。当最后一记斩杀贯穿猎物的胸膛，天边的云霞也回荡着亡魂的哀伤。
这不会是最后一处战场，暴怒的气息将永远在世间回荡。


“瞧瞧，这是谁又满身血气的来了？”
“天呐你们真该看看那毫无美感的方式，简直臭气熏天。”
“亲爱的，下次来聚会的时候能不能稍微打扮一下呢？”
“嘿，冷静一下，这些都只是调侃，我想你也不会在这么美妙的聚会上动怒吧？”
“所以，为我们姐妹的胜利干杯如何？”
“还真是油嘴滑舌。”

By 煤球