Current Residence: Radioactive Armpit of Tennessee
Favourite genre of music: Rock
Favourite style of art: Cartooning
Operating System: Windows XP and Mac OS X
MP3 player of choice: iPod Classic
Favourite cartoon character: Daffey Duck
Personal Quote: It's my opinion and I'm sticking to it!
Deathwing looked upon Neltharion shackled body, running a claw down his neck.From Romancing the Coffer
Don’t...Neltharion said in a plead. You sick bastard, don’t!
Sometimes it’s just best to close your eyes and get it over with, purred Deathwing.
No, you promised my suffering would end! Neltharion said. Please, don’t do this again.
No. I’ve done what you asked! I’ve done it! I’ve made that accursed thing. Don’t do this to me again. No!
The Earth-Warder’s pleads are delicious, Deathwing.
And we love to watch...
Neltharion shut his eyes, grimacing just as Deathwing drew his body into a forceful embrace. It was unspeakable, horrifying, shameful. Every vile act was committed against him and he was helpless to it. He could do nothing but to submit to Deathwing’s stronger will. This was how they broke him. In his own mind, in his own body, he was forced to endure the violating act. Deathwing ravaged everything to gain full control of Neltharion’s body. Neltharion cried out, tears continuing to flow from his eyes. It only pleasured Deathwing even more.
From Murozond's Gift.“Oh, Neltharion. Never fight me. You know you enjoy what I do to you. But to do it physically. I waited a long time for this. Whatever magic that separated you from me, I am grateful for it.” - Deathwing
As the dragons plummeted to the ground, they shattered. But did Deathwing cry out for vengeance? No, Neltharion could remember that very vividly. Deathwing laughed, being the only dragon left flying over the valley. The parasiteFrom Wrath of the Warchief
that inhabited his tattered body returned to the cliff to retrieve the hapless Neltharion from his temporary prison and re-absorbed him. Then, he asked the weeping spirit a simple question.
“Did you enjoy my little show, whelp?”
Of course Neltharion did not. Broke down and wept again as Deathwing laughed,
mocking his tears.
“That knot was made by our Black Queen Calia––and no amount of dragon strength can untie that knot.” Then, Serinar looked up at his own lord, cocking a black, fuzzy eyebrow. “Now what sort of skills has she learned in order to figure out how to tie up an Aspect in rope and keep him bound?”
“What goes on in our longhouse stays in our longhouse,” said Neltharion
“I am bursting with my own magnanimousness!” Deathwing announced in a bellow as the two locked claws. Deathwing looked up at the much taller and wider Prestor. He looked to the claw, and with his fiery eyes wide, he noticed that Prestor was not burning. Deathwing’s heat was not effecting him. “I cannot wait to share such glory with the others.
“Others?” asked Prestor. “What do you mean?”
“My mates!” said Deathwing, the smile drawing up his rather mangled looking face. “Our mates. Perhaps I will start with Sintharia first. Why should I do anything to our consorts when I have you here to play with instead?”