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02-24-2016, 09:21 AM
EREBOS He had to prove himself. There was nothing else beyond this thought, this entreaty, this notion. He had to show the world what he was made of. He had to finesse his way through machinations. He had to surge and plague and incense wrath. He had to dedicate his being to strength, to diligence, to endurance and fortitude (against the world, against the horrors, against the ways in which life always led him directly to slaughter). So, by pure, unholy vitriol, he found his figure mounting a war, a campaign, between the surroundings. He’d been in the labyrinth before, because it seemed fun, because it seemed amusing and diverting, and all he’d received for his curiosity, speculation, and upheaval was a sound beating from one of his own. The little demon, the growing, gangly infidel, wouldn’t allow the memory to remain so firm, so grasped, so clenched in his mind. This place would be more than just a reminder of his failure. It could also be a scene of triumph, of conquest, of mastery. But no storms raged, and no great bear-masked Haruspexes wandered down paths, disrupting whims and mercurial endeavors. Instead, the barest amount of sunlight shifted through the thick trees and the pressing, snow-laden boughs. They meandered, him and Orsino (and if Erebos was bitter, than the kitsune was the epitome of rancor and menace), traversing and traveling down the maze corridors, seeking, searching, praying for an opportunity to reveal they were more than ineffectual fools. Only when it seemed their excursion was going to be prove fruitless (at the notion, Orsino began to hiss and it reverberated deep within Erebos, so both seemed to be growling compatriots, grouchy and discontent), did he spot another figure near a pool of water. He didn’t know which path they’d taken to get there, which stalks bent left or right, which pointed north or south, but he was well aware of an opportunity when he spotted one – and even if the figure was completely unfamiliar to him, he embraced the chance. It was a painted mare, winged and all (and had he fought someone with feathers and plumage, who could rise into the swell of the sky?), shuffling between the branches and barbs of the carnivorous forest. He grew close to her, appearing friendly and amicable with the depth of his grin and the silly, mischievous bounty in his eyes, greeting in the way boisterous, young, ridiculous males do. “Hello!” When he advanced, scrutinized and studied for only the barest of moments, his smile chiseled even deeper, further, a charismatic persuasion enlightening a blackguard’s face. “I’m Erebos! Who are you?” And then, just as quickly, like he was unraveling and unfurling at the notion, at the prospects, at the possibilities, he announced the next bramble of intentions. “I’m looking for a spar partner. Would you be interested?” He knew nothing about her. She knew nothing about him. Somehow, the mysterious, enigmatic twist amidst the labyrinthine conditions, amongst the dissipating mania, seemed perfect. [Teaching Spar: Erebos vs. Alysanne. 0/3 posts. Feel free to make the first move! Setting: Green Labyrinth – midday. Next to a pool of water. Trees are snow-laden. Looking forward to sparring with you! Notes to follow your first attack! ^_^] |
@Alysanne
