the Rift


[OPEN] maybe i'll be sane for you

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#9
He waited, unmoving, statuesque depravity, the abysmal, embodiment of Satan’s gifts and Lucifer’s tactics, a chilling opus drawn and fused into the rebellious boundaries. The silence stretched and the crowd gathered (the massive Beowulf, and another pest entering the fray; gilded Thranduil), and the reasons for her ineptitude, for her persistence in remaining amongst those who did not want her went unanswered. For a few moments, he merely stared at her, marveled and in awe of her rampant stupidity, of her blundering stitches, of her inability to utter a single, decent explanation – and then the frustration grew. Was this a game, to tangle attention from the likes of many, to dot the horizon with those who’d come to witness her poor attempt at communication, at her imbecile methods and movements; a study in ignorance, an education in idiocy? Was this a childish exposition, a method of travel and curiosity, unfounded and moronic? Or was this all some ruse, a ploy, to distract them from other endeavors, entanglements, or enemies brooding and brewing in the limelight? The Reaper’s eyes narrowed, and his overwhelming stature spurned and spun the layers and lacquer of sinister, nefarious designs, tending to the notions and actions necessary to ensure the mare left, whole or quartered. The impassive, stoic glare fixated solely on the winged femme, with her unworldly demeanor and foolish remarks, and picked apart the granules of his deep tones, offered her one more opportunity to state her case, her reasoning for traipsing into their Siberian void, for donning her form beneath the blades of their sentinels, of their drawn swords. “I will ask only once more: what is your purpose here?” A rare bestowal rendered and given, but he didn’t partake or describe the damned, floundered sentiments of those who’d refused to give chase, to respond accordingly, who’d refused to go back from whence they’d came: after all, the beast, the behemoth, the Lord and winter King was always content with violence, with villainy, with cutting and splitting apart the ineffectual.
Death, you bring death, and destruction to all that you touch.
- bg - table - art -


Messages In This Thread
maybe i'll be sane for you - by Aurelia - 10-01-2014, 07:46 PM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Déodat - 10-02-2014, 12:32 AM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Deimos - 10-04-2014, 02:40 PM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Déodat - 10-04-2014, 03:57 PM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Beowulf - 10-04-2014, 05:04 PM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Thranduil - 10-04-2014, 09:05 PM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Deimos - 10-07-2014, 04:33 PM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Déodat - 10-09-2014, 01:33 AM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Thranduil - 10-11-2014, 02:19 AM
RE: maybe i'll be sane for you - by Deimos - 10-15-2014, 05:05 PM

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