|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Sep 29, 2012 8:41 pm
The warrior had little opinion on Medea. Priestess, leader, prophet - just words. With a lackluster attention she managed to keep her eyes on her as they had gathered into a single mass. Just polite enough. She doubted anyone would notice her blank stare. Regardless of her personal feelings, or lack-there-of as it seemed, something was in the air. Something that pricked at her heart, a near excitement such as a march into war.
Come on.
She spoke of ancients, the terrible evil rising. An infection to be destroyed.
More.
A hand clasped around a dagger on her side as a blood lust took her. All she could see was the read as the words droned on. Protect, survive - almost a revenge against those who had aimed to see their demise.
Protect - fight!.
A lust for war...
-consumed by insanity-
The soldier stopped and stared as she felt a tremendous roar rise up inside of her, a flash of a white pelt over a gray-scarred, tawny haired body. Her adrenaline sank into a distasteful sickening swirl and she spat, watching the world around her grow into a colorless void. The soldier wanted a find, pined for the thrill of battle while her blade craved for use once again. There was a stillness in her, not a muscle moved.
In a sudden lurch her body ran forward, propelling herself forward with a single, hushed word on her lips.
"Senga."
[exiting]
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Sep 30, 2012 11:33 am
He'd heard there had been a festival. The Famine horseman recalled feeling mild disappointment when he'd realized he was missing it, but he had been too sick at the time to dwell. Although he had no fear of multiple dissipations or lengthy bouts of puking after eating things that didn't agree with him, Mmur didn't think he had ever been sick like this. Chills, sweating, and weakness were not symptoms anyone enjoyed, especially a soldier, and as a result of this bout of FEAR flu, his attitude had gone from smiley and gregarious to plodding and, frankly, bitchy in a matter of weeks.
Even now that his illness had nearly faded, Mmur's sour mood remained. As he joined his brethren, his lips curled into a sneering frown and, try as he might, he couldn't get them to take a more indifferent shape. His disdainful expression only became more pronounced the longer he listened to what Medea had to say. He had expected a request for more FEAR-gathering tasks in the human world or some announcement regarding the hunters, but this was something else entirely.
An Ancient. Really.
As he tried to count the number of horsemen he might have to try and slaughter if the priestess was really serious about destroying all those who carried Insanity, his furious mental workings were interrupted by Medea's collapse. It jolted him from his pissy anger for a moment and he sat up straight, giving his clan's elder all of his attention. He could see he was in no position to help Medea. He would do what she had asked. He would prepare to fight the Insanity.
Mmur rose to his feet and followed the rest of his people out of the Colosseum. Very slowly.
(( exiting ))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Sep 30, 2012 4:20 pm
Erintis appeared as summoned. She had complete and utter faith in all that her head priestess knew and said, so it was an honour for her to attend such a meeting. Standing near the back she nodded slowly, in all her studies she had never heard of such things as the Ancient. Sure there were stories and information about how the clans formed, how the clans became but very little if any about the Ancient. Wanting to speak up wanting to ask more she watched in horror as the head priestess fell, murmuring to herself,
"We shall stop what ever this threat is. We cannot let this threat consume yet another home."
As quickly as she appeared she found herself leaving with the other clansmen.
((EXIT TO HH))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
