Julius Flynn flies into a dark cell, the rough terrain digging into his back. Snarling to himself, he pushes off the ground. The guards close the gate with a loud bang, smiling at him through the bars. Blood drips down his cheek, the scratch not healing as fast as it should be. This isn't normal circumstances. He throws himself at the bars, wanting them to break. They burn as they come into contact with his exposed skin. Hissing, Julius stands back, glaring at the two leeches.

"Aw is the Prince having problems?" one mocks, his voice grinding together.

"Is the King letting his lackies get more room on the leash?" he growls back, his voice deep with hatred.

The creatures sneer through the bars, their eyes sparking a yellow green color. Bastos's are cruel, inhuman beings. They wore black robes, that seem to melt into the floor. Julius has no idea where his father had the idea to get control over them. The Cruel Fae are not to be used for any situation. Ever since his father has got control on half of the Supernatural Realm, he seems to be taking the rules and breaking them. The creatures growl lowly and back of the bars, letting a hulking figure fill the space.

Julius leans against the wall across the opening, his eyes meeting those of his father's. His face is pale, drawn taunt with years of stress etched onto his face. His deep, dark grey eyes zoned in on his son. The silver crown rests upon his brow, on top of his black hair. He crosses his arms over his massive chest, his eyes taking in Julius.

"So, you leave the palace, for the village," his father starts, his voice rough and gravely, "and this is how you look?" He clicks his tongue, a mocking look crossing his face.

Julius bared his teeth at his father, anger rolling through him. "I left the Prisom for a reason, Father."

His father tilts his head, considering his words. His lips twitch as he leans forward, his skin a breath away from the bars. The Bastos behind him chitter and scuttle away, their laughs echoing the cage.

"Ah, yes," his father murmurs, clearing his throat, "to be out from under me, am I right?" Shaking his head, he walks toward Julius, his whole-body glides through the cell. Julius scowls and stands straight, his back against the wall. The King looks down on him, his seeming to glow a blood red in the dark cell. "What am I going to do with you?"

Julius looks up at him, the height difference a foot about. "Get rid of me. Kill me." he snaps.

His father lets out a snort, the air visible in the cold air of the cell. He strode through the cell to a step in the wall and gracefully sits, leaning his back against the concrete walls. His cloak fell to the side, revealing his Vampi Kingdom armor. Julius starts, his eyes roaming the fresh dents in the metal. A sadistic smile came to his lips, making his face seem dark and cruel. Julius feels his hands automatically clench, anger taking over any other emotions.

"War is a gracious thing," his father states, siting forward to fold his hands in his lap. The king merely looks at him with distaste, his eyes seeping with disappointment. "We come from a long...