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"You spin me right round, baby." “Soon for Red,” you muse as he asks, feeling the rage boiling anew within your veins even as you say it. It will not be long now, you cannot hold it in, you will take her down. “Longer for the others. The Asshole pegasus has more scars than both of us together.” That's saying something, all in all. But you could tell when you looked upon him that he was war hardened, strong, a fortress that could not be penetrated so easily. But you can be patient if you try. Once you have your fill of Red's screams you'll work on the other two. It will come in time. “We have a meeting before then,” you offer, but look shiftily around as you say it, as though somebody in the shadows of the Threshold might hear you, not willing to say more right now. Instead, you just turn around and start walking, hopefully going slow enough that Pretty Boy can keep up. It will be a long trip, but at least some sort of plan is coming into place. Some time later, having finally come to the old borders of the Foothills, you cross them with disregard. Motioning up ahead to a path that winds into the trees and the rocky hills. It is a subtle path, except to those that have walked it before. That is your entrance way. But surely that are some sort of rules you weren't paying attention to. Newcomers wait at the borders or something to that effect? You have no idea, you never were much good at playing nice with authority. That's why you need to be in charge. That, and that you obviously deserve it. In time. All in time. Whinnying some obnoxious nose into the land, making good and sure to make it loud enough to penetrate the ever present rumble of the falls, you proceed to reach your nose into your shoulder bag and take out a vine, chomping on the delicious greenery and savoring the juices as they slither down your throat. While you're distracted then, you're useless companion decides it is time to start playing tricks. She is nearly invisible, just a faint wisp of black, until before you and Pretty Boy, she morphs into something that renews the fire in your veins, and perhaps more important to her task, should be very familiar looking to Arlo. It is the Phantom Seeker in miniature, beautiful and perfect floating in the air. Except she does not stay perfect for long. She begins to bleed from every orifice and then her flesh begins to rot from her very bones. You cannot stand it any longer and take a lunging bite towards the boggart, missing as she flits off, but satisfied nevertheless that she is invisible once again. “Ignore her. She's an idiot,” you hiss through gritted teeth, shaking your head. You need to work on getting rid of her. Maybe the Blue wants her back. You should work on that. @[Arlo]- Wrapped up Threshold and started this one all in one, hope you don't mind :D |
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.
Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post
Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post
