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 Posted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 12:56 am
Ra'kar merely watched Ezekiel, like a cat watches a mouse. But this wasn't askew from her normal behaviour, her feral eyes seemed to regard the whole of existence with an air of feline and predatory observance.
If she looked, she could see faint colours sifting over his figure. A weave of emotions... His 'weave' was different. Contrasted to Victor's who allowed himself to embrace his emotions without reservation, whose weave was bold and held no sign of hesitance--- Ezekiel's weave was quieter, cautious, practical and somewhat muted. Yet it was a strong weave, despite a uncertain thread here and there.
Victor's emotions tasted like a strong whiskey, that packed a fiery kick. Ezekiel's was more subtle, like a fine wine with softer nuances and hints of hidden elements.
And each was enjoyable.
As always, his face was guarded. Most would assume he felt nothing at all.
Her eyes flicked to his fingers as they trailed over the hilt of his sword, and her lips curved into a satiated smile. Oh yes, she quite enjoyed him.
She no longer leaned over the arm of her chair, but she allowed her hand to linger against Victor's body. Trailing it up and down his arm in languid movements. Each design she traced, tickling over her skin, transferring energy.
Just being in physical contact with her, would give him strength.
Her hand skimmed up his arm and traced the determined line of his jaw as she spoke,
"Aye my love. You will show them paradise."
She listened as they dispositioned the troops, keeping a neat tally in her head of who was where.
As they spoke of Ezra, she cast a seeking tendril out-- inquiring. She smiled to herself, as she tasted his discontentment. He hadn't been given his orders yet, but the anticipation and the resentment was an exquisite flavour.
Withdrawing from his misery, she focused on Victor once more.
"Do you have an hour or two to spare, my leader of men?"
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Posted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 2:01 am
As per usual, the by play between both Ezekiel and Ra'kar was lost on Victor.
If he even had any knowledge of what was going, he had more pressing matters that demanded his full attention anyway. The reprieve from the demoness wouldn't be squandered.
"Of course. Although I would venture to guess that our esteemed Warmaster already knows just as much as you have told me, Ezekiel.
It is in their nature."
The Shades were of a unique sort of race. Each interwoven linked mentally with the other, which had all the signs of a hive mind, yet-- it couldn't be spoiled with such a title. Each Shade was its own entity...in a fashion. All geared towards one driving purpose yet... but how they chose to employ it... vastly differed.
"What is it?"
Victor turned his head to cant a look in Ra'kar's direction.
Ever since they had acquired Teira, Victor had been adamant that the demoness not try to bespoil the young lady, since she was crucial to his plans... although he did relent that her eventual fate was to be left in the flame-witch' hands.
She was supposed to not exist after all...a physical manifestation of that which Victor himself had excised from the body Ra'kar was in, with the arcan magic of Ashe' creation.
How she still came to be in this world was a bafflement to the Murmillion, and her new, albeit alien ability, was interesting to say the least...
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Posted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 2:20 am
Ra'kar gave him the full weight of her eyes, in the kind of look that exists only between a man and a woman. A look that only exists when two beings know the other's body as well as their own. The sort of look that spreads heat through one's loins with the mere promise that they would use that knowledge. That flesh would meld with flesh, in a burning dance of pleasure. The sort of look you would sigh after.
She smiled at him through the golden haze of her eyes, peering through the thick lashes as she cooed,
"I would see you thoroughly refreshed and share thoughts of the present and of the future."
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Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 6:47 pm
Silence had reigned for too long through these halls.
For what was it that could lay claim to all that remained but the stillness of the night? The lovely embrace of the absence of life that crawled and squirmed it's way through debris hewn pathways, shattered archways and long forgotten chambers.
Silence had reigned and found no challenge to its rule in this place of forgotten solace.
Yet, like all things that lay in the darkness, what broke that silence had never been truly gone. Never truly...forgotten.
It had been there all along.
Watching.
Waiting.
Binding it's time so that when it once more made it's presence known- silence everywhere would be shattered, and the madness that took its place would resound throughout all broken corners of the world.
A caterwaul to all those who lay in the bliss of sleepless dreams, to those who allowed themselves to fall prey to the false allure of peace; and especially to those who had betrayed...and feared their end to be near.
For it was truly, a betrayer's end, that would break that final seal upon DESTRUCTION.
The Seal of Souls had been broken through the use of all the dearly departed whom suffered under the sudden and brutal advance of undead hordes. The Cities of Agripinna, Westfall and Barton had all served to fuel this seal-- with practically over 1 million souls taken from the machinations that entailed Death.
They would never find judgment in the next life, let alone truly understand why their lives were ended.
The Seal of Elements, where the very destructive forces of the planet were taken- men and women with ties to the elemental simply used and drained until nothing remained. So was the final fate of the Asgard whom had lost faith in the future of mankind and resigned himself to the acceptance of sacrifice in order to change must not ever come to pass.
This could only have been possible with the poisoning and weakening of the guardianship that the Dragons of Angara had over the very elemental leylines of Gaia...what had seemed to be a massive scale assault on their refuge, nothing more than a smokescreen for a much more subtle attack.
The Seal of Power, where the power of a Goddess was pressed into service- the maddening depths of Ra'Kar combined with the instrumentation of Mari herself- a show of terrible force that had nearly destroyed all whom had witnessed it.
An event which had claimed the lives of many of those devils who had been bound to Victor...something which Ezekiel quietly lived with, yet swore to repay the fiery Demoness in kind for in the end.
The Seal of the Planet, where a remaining piece of Moam, the location that had originally been used to act as the physical embodiment of the seal had been unearthed within the Syntaxis Ruins...otherwise known as the Moam Gate.
Four seals that had been taken care of in the span of two years; a long dream that was finally coming to fruition.
Two Seals remained...and one he had personally swore to take on himself.
Footsteps echoed out along the broken ground, even as a solitary silhouette was seen moving about, its features hidden away in the hooded cloak that seemed to drape it's form.
It seemed to be pacing about a very fracture piece of ground, archaic scrawls of black staining outward from a small hole in the earth, from where it looked as if something had impacted and landed.
The site was quite familiar...after all, it was where this dream had truly become a reality. "....To all beginnings an end...to all ends..a means." The voice flowed out strongly, even as the figure finally stopped in the center of the marred grounds, an unearthly wind starting up all around him, as his arm protruded from the cloak-- an unsheathed blade held in his grasp.
It captivated him; the edge keen with the souls of those once laying claim to it, and it's length heavy with the burden of the voice that continually ate away at what fragment remained of his self.
A fragment, that like a solitary shorn up remnant of land, was surrounded by a sea of despair, jealously, hatred, hope, love, will, greed...all the emotions of those before him...with the unrelenting drive of that which came before all- that forgotten master of masters...
All of Eden resonated with that voice- as if what created the blade and where this lost piece of rock were cut from the same cloth. It was a kind of power that threatened to swallow his 'island' whole.
"To the end...to the bitter end...just one more and I can strike at this heart of darkness that plagues Gaia...and you can have me.
All that I am.
All that I will be." He closed his eyes even as he swore under his breath, sweat beading his brow even as he held on tightly to that blade.
"It ends now. The final seal...."
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Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 4:40 pm
Focusing was the key.
A single stray thought, a single unintended muscle spasm, let alone unneeded breath- could render it all impotent. The ritual he had been building was very precise after all, and Alpha had repeated this as such several times over enough to Victor that the Murmillion found himself wondering 'what would happen if I failed?'.
Of course, this day was no day for experimentation.
This seal had to be done away with and it brooked no failures; there were no second chances with this. Either it was done properly the first time- or not at all.
So one could likely understand and identify the silent reverence in which this chosen of TFO focused and shaped both his will and intent into the preparations needed for the breaking of the 5th Seal.
His yellowed eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, as stray locks of raven hair swept across his face- beads of sweat forming along his forehead and running down the back of his neck as his lips moved and uttered a guttural series of thick scratches that might have passed for a language somewhere else.
Somewhere far away.
Using the knowledge of all those before him, he spoke the tongue fluently- as if he were possessed by something else entirely; which probably wasn't too far off from the truth at this point. The more of TFO' power he used, the more of what remained of his humanity was stripped away, thin layers of everything that made him who he was, being devoured like the scraps at a dinner table.
The road was arduous, but the results...
The grounds in which the blade had first arrived throbbed with the power that now infused them, even as Victor fought the numbing effects of exhaustion, his mind being ridden by the power of the blade much like a stallion was rode into the ground through abuse.
The blade cared not for how much damage it imparted into it's user, it could repair and nourish it's host from just about anything- at the cost of sanity of course.
With one final guttural utterance, Victor finished, his chest burning with the pain of having just recited all three thousand and forty two characters that was necessary.
"That was the easy part..." He smiled lightly to himself even as he placed a hand back onto the hilt of the The Forgotten Blade- feeling the chilling jolt of cold vitality that it offered up in return. His breath came out freezing, his heart beating just barely enough to keep someone alive, and his skin tone was more pallid...as if he were fighting to stop from simply becoming part of the Void.
Taking a step back, he brandished the blade out before him and let it's aura eat away at everything it seemed to pass by. "Now then...to finish this."
Turning, he began making his way back towards the main ruins of Eden, the dilapidated city in which he made his home; more importantly, the audience chamber which held the scrying crystal and access to the island's movement controls...
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