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01-23-2017, 09:44 AM
They fall apart, like so many dogs without a leader.
Some stand in dumb stupor, mouths agape; others still call out insults, and threats, while the rest simply deliver the threats in the form of a physical barrage. Beloved watches it all with bemused giggles and a titled smile, her eyes fluttering from the towering beast of bones to the multitudes that would destroy it. Soon, her giggles are the maddened peels of full fledged laughter, laughter that ebbs, and flows, that doesn’t stop, even when she starts walking towards the skeletal beast, and the obelisk.
They called her mad, ravenous, bitch; they accused her of cruelty, of wickedness, and betrayal. Yet, never had she turned upon a God within seconds of their revelations of truth, because those truths were not as she had seen, at first. Was that the gift of the broken mind? To forgive the warping of one’s fabric, for the alteration of the pattern, sudden and unrequested, is all Beloved knows. For these mortals, their minds like stones, or trees, steady, with only the smallest of movements given when pushed by forces outside themselves, such a treachery probably is deeply upsetting.
The White Witch still sees, however, where the others are blinded. She sees a monolithic being of bone and spirit, rising above the earth, born of their efforts. Beautiful, the creation would not exist had they, the fools, not willingly complied, and become one in service of its life. Beloved does not mind the deception, for the product is the same as that which she had designed; no, better, for the God is not only a God, with power to bequeath, but a being of darkness, her kin.
So, when a gangly, pale fool trumpets that they should strike down the altar, Beloved charges to meet him before he can damage her Lord’s possessions. All fealty owed to the mountain is forgotten in her lust for Kaos’ admiration, her fearless charge silent, and stern, but for the cold warning her words deliver, when she feels he might hear them: "Weak fool! You fear that which you do not understand!"
She aims to drive her horn deep into his side, not caring for the life that will be extinguished, she herself a creature who is darkness, missing no flame. Her laughter is stayed for the service she commits, a berserker, only sane enough to know a higher purpose when she sees one, her hooves drumming beneath her. If he dodges the deadly drive of her rapier, she is prepared to adjust her course, and battle, but the wild minded one assumes (as most utterly bat-shit women do) that she’ll succeed.
[ Summary: Laughs at everyone for a while before she goes to stand by the obelisk. Hears Toulouse threaten the obelisk, and thereby tries to kill him. :’D
JOINS TEAM KAOS IN DEFENSE OF THE OBELISK ]
Some stand in dumb stupor, mouths agape; others still call out insults, and threats, while the rest simply deliver the threats in the form of a physical barrage. Beloved watches it all with bemused giggles and a titled smile, her eyes fluttering from the towering beast of bones to the multitudes that would destroy it. Soon, her giggles are the maddened peels of full fledged laughter, laughter that ebbs, and flows, that doesn’t stop, even when she starts walking towards the skeletal beast, and the obelisk.
They called her mad, ravenous, bitch; they accused her of cruelty, of wickedness, and betrayal. Yet, never had she turned upon a God within seconds of their revelations of truth, because those truths were not as she had seen, at first. Was that the gift of the broken mind? To forgive the warping of one’s fabric, for the alteration of the pattern, sudden and unrequested, is all Beloved knows. For these mortals, their minds like stones, or trees, steady, with only the smallest of movements given when pushed by forces outside themselves, such a treachery probably is deeply upsetting.
The White Witch still sees, however, where the others are blinded. She sees a monolithic being of bone and spirit, rising above the earth, born of their efforts. Beautiful, the creation would not exist had they, the fools, not willingly complied, and become one in service of its life. Beloved does not mind the deception, for the product is the same as that which she had designed; no, better, for the God is not only a God, with power to bequeath, but a being of darkness, her kin.
So, when a gangly, pale fool trumpets that they should strike down the altar, Beloved charges to meet him before he can damage her Lord’s possessions. All fealty owed to the mountain is forgotten in her lust for Kaos’ admiration, her fearless charge silent, and stern, but for the cold warning her words deliver, when she feels he might hear them: "Weak fool! You fear that which you do not understand!"
She aims to drive her horn deep into his side, not caring for the life that will be extinguished, she herself a creature who is darkness, missing no flame. Her laughter is stayed for the service she commits, a berserker, only sane enough to know a higher purpose when she sees one, her hooves drumming beneath her. If he dodges the deadly drive of her rapier, she is prepared to adjust her course, and battle, but the wild minded one assumes (as most utterly bat-shit women do) that she’ll succeed.
[ Summary: Laughs at everyone for a while before she goes to stand by the obelisk. Hears Toulouse threaten the obelisk, and thereby tries to kill him. :’D
JOINS TEAM KAOS IN DEFENSE OF THE OBELISK ]
you've lost your demon.
@Toulouse
