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08-01-2013, 11:48 AM
 [Just keeping the thread moving along because I know you wanted it to go quickly. ;D Let me know if you'd like to post instead, Aud, and I can take this one down.]
The demon’s attention was disrupted from the gathered individuals, now numbering two, by the strange outcry uttered from Crowley. A loud burst of his tangled tongue brought the General’s features towards the Weaver, who appeared anxious, apprehensive, shattered by a daunting foe. The stony beast arched one singular brow, but did nothing more. Was there an unknown entity shirking behind them, crossing over glacial wall and stone, some perilous menace he couldn’t sense? He rendered his observation and scrutiny back towards the pronged stag, listening as their contract was brought back into question. How many times had they dabbled in the affair of this vexing agreement, quibbling over tones, phrases and rights? But now the beasts wanted their payment in blood, in bodies, in carcasses and figures, instead of baubles, trinkets and fabric. Deimos’s piercing eyes ran over both creatures, attempted to puncture their reasoning for this alteration, for this bizarre set of circumstances in wishing to be lent Basin brethren. Calculating, ruminating, tracing menacing machinations, he was evidently not alone in his assertions, for Crowley spoke of the same sentiments. His voice, harsh and callous all over again, prompted the intrigue to unfold. “Your priorities have changed.” Were they merely no longer delighted by woven material? Had they grown avaricious, covetous, and voracious? Magic had long since floated from their bodies, twisting and turning in the darkness, leaving them bereft, chaotic, distorted in their heathenous haze – it could not be the sole reason for their venture across ice and snow. Was there an unknown ailment taking shape beyond their frozen corridors? How malicious? How disastrous? How consuming? What made them grasp and toy with the strings of set foundations, enough to beg to send his comrades to slaughter, massacre and mayhem? To the confident stag, Deimos’s cruel, shrewd fixtures layered across his heinous mouth, parting the ghostly trails of vapor and air. “What concerns you?” DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone |
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