Eventually, after Hotaru was allowed and allotted her time, the rest of the herd fell into silence. No more outbursts, no more rage-induced meltdowns, no more petulant acts of ridiculousness; he permitted a breath to loosen from his chest, and filter through his lungs, harden into the coiled, chilling air. He stared over his herd, his brethren, his kin, some trickling in unknown and discarded, some familiar and beseeching – he nodded towards Tangere, casting aside all her old traces of bitterness for the world she clearly yearned to aid, towards the blue Tiamat wandering in beside an unknown lad – and he marveled at how many he didn’t know, how many he’d never seen. The knot of his transgressions slid down the notches of his spine, chiseled a firm resolve, and fastened the wanton anarchy winding its way along his heart. Eventually, he’d reach them, he’d implore them, he’d find a way to right all of these wrongs (building, piling, brimming, brick after brick, brew after brew; he’d made his own poisonous, toxic venom and swallowed it whole and now he had to find the antidote to all this lost time), but the opportunity would have to wait. The monster, conformed and consigned to a lifetime of patience, to seasons and months of composure, to stillness and death and demise, composed one sigh, before bridging, leaping, bounding over massive gaps, over molten sanctities, down into the abyss, down into the void, filtering and flickering upon the beasts before him: all those worthy, all those giving. How many times had they given themselves over to the winds, to the glaciers, to the peaks? How many times would they be asked to do it again – to venture into war, to wander into calamity, to conspire and deceive and massacre the masses threatening their doorsteps? He’d crown their hearts, he’d title their spirits, he’d anoint and consecrate their wisdom, their actions, their motivations and perseverance; rekindle the flames that had died within some of their vows. “Thank you for your attendance. We will settle the matter of ranks.” He proceeded, one by one, to list the names and their newfound wares (would these inspire and instigate a new round of bitterness, or foster some hope, some glory, for the pending future?) – chiseled his voice, rendering his vocals, into keen edges and bestial flames. He may have been deplorable, he may have been horrible, he may have been an abandoned, brutal discord, a blight upon the earth, but he wouldn’t allow his compatriots to leave their world unarmed. “Our Time Menders will be Lena and Enna.” The sinister gaze crossed over their frames, before moving on to the next legion of callings. “D’Art will be the new General, and Sialia and Ki’irha his Corporals.” A rise of warriors, a beckoning of soldiers – would the old Doctor be content with this role? The monster nearly smirked, but continued, pausing momentarily to fix his glare upon the cave where Arah and Ulrik nestled, on the words that would have to pass between all of them; on all the deserving rites they held despite launching into spiteful discourses. “Arah will be our Thief, with Roland and Grimalkin as her Impersonators. Ulrik will continue as Weaver with Johnny.” Finality finally reared its head, and the wish, the longing, to melt back into the shadows and forget this entire meeting ever happened buried and burrowed its way through his soul; he finished on the names of a God’s calling (waited to be blasted by some vicious electricity for these notions too – electrocution would bring a fine end to this gathering). “The Haruspex will be Ashamin, and our Emissary will be Öde. Congratulations to all.”


[OOC Notes and things: Official announcement for ranks. Tangere and Tiamat have been accepted back into the herd. ^_^]