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Post by FC4 on Apr 10, 2009 20:41:39 GMT
The lich's cracked, breaking lips, barely if at all covering his teeth, curled into an unholy smile. One would only notice of course, if they were looking at what remained of his flesh on his cheek bones. Nonetheless, he was inwardly smiling as she unlocked his chains.
"Try not to kill them, but don't worry about it too much." She was saying, but the lich was looking at her soft blue form in his vision, and contemplating. Can I do this, with what magicka I do have? Those chains were draining me, but they weren't strong enough. I do have some magicka still. But is it enough?
I could sap some from her. Drain her magicka now. He thought to himself as his first pair of upper arms were freed, and she had begun on the second pair behind his shoulders. His rotted hands hovered in the air, complacent. Waiting, the bony tips eager for his instructions. It would be like sipping water from a fountain. Just a touch, a will, and her magicka is mine to utilize.
His second pair of upper arms came free, and the fingers and hands stretched, lowering and reaching for the wall to steady himself as he raised both his pelvic arms for Siorra to free. His first pair continued to hang at his side. But the clatter of his chains falling brought him back to reality. No... she has helped me, prisoner like I am, I cannot claim her life. She has done nothing to hinder me, in any way. But those guards... They have hindered my studies. Hindered me. I will take my power from them!
As each shackle fell, the enchantments upon them that had weakly reduced his magical prowess separated from him, and the lich curled back as he was freed ever further, inhaling dank dungeon air and drinking in the dormant traces of magicka within Mundus. Yes; this magicka was enough to wreak vengeance, and that was all he needed.
Agrabal brought up his two front arms, deciding now his actions, and beneath the flesh a soft glow emanated. There was a grating of steel on steel as the iron gates of his cell and the one across from him were lifted and twisted from their hinges. Moving through the air of their own accord, they weaved between the mutants before hovering behind the wall of fire and the creature that spawned it.
Both wrists rotated, and the gates followed suit, the pointed tops now facing the stone beneath, before slamming themselves into the mortar that held the stone together, following the violent thrusting down of Agrabal's open palms. The fire was a dull violet wall of light in his sights, And he could see the life of one guard extinguishing at the hands of one mutant, only for her form to grow brighter with life.
"When done... run." He wheezed.
OOC: Have I somehow inadvertently killed the rp?
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Post by Vicorva on Apr 14, 2009 16:39:21 GMT
OOC: Not if I have anything to say about it! Your accidental evil shall not prevail! IC:
The last shackle fell and Siorra did not need to be told twice to get out of there. Racing out of the cell as iron grates flung themselves at the guards, Siorra seemed almost to fly past the others in the group, screaming "This way!" at the top of her voice.
Betraying herself softer side, She pulled at Serana to urge her to follow, and Vincent, too, though her hand passed right through him. When faced with this danger, her more vicious side and her many grudges faded; she sought only to get everyone out.
She hurtled down the steps, taking them three at a time as her light weight helped her glide down them, and raced down the deepest, darkest cell block in the place. Finally, she came to a cell at the end; it was empty, seemingly a dead end. But Siorra knew better.
Pushing the door open she ran to the wall at the side of the cell, slamming herself against it. She swore, and searched the stones frantically, knowing the others would be thinking her insane but hardly registering their comments in her hurry. Finally, her fingers pressed upon the correct brick, and the wall slid away. She turned to the others.
"Quickly," she ordered. "There is a way through the sewers to safety- the father of my family gave me the secret." But she did not budge, and had she stopped to look at herself she would have been appalled at her own idiocy, for she was waiting for everyone else to go through first before moved on or closed the door.
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Post by Vicorva on Apr 15, 2009 20:43:43 GMT
OOC: *bump*
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Cirith
Apprentice
Roleplaying mad genius
Posts: 59
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Post by Cirith on Apr 15, 2009 21:36:11 GMT
"How long have I been down here? has it been two weeks already?" calmly Cirith sat in his cell in an empty cell block deep under the ground, his hands shackled to the wall, with short chains, his monterous stingers locked in a wooden block with two holes, chained to the floor and the wall, sitting on the floor to do anything but wonder what the blazes happened upthere when an unholy screech came echoing throuhg his cell block. after a short amount of time which Cirith was uncertan of how long it took the echoes of steel boots on stone steps and prison guards yelling things reached Cirith who was now wondering what was going on.
His answer came shortly after that when something ran past his cell very fast. Cirith could barely make out the feathery figure in the dark corridor only lit with the moonlight in a cell across from his. he tried to stand up but was kept down by his chains and tried to shake them in frustration, the rattle of the chains sounded and he called out "Hey, HEY! Wait! get me outa here! Please!" he called out, hoping she would rescue him, he didn't hear anything for a moment and the feeling he'd been forgotten crept like a cold sensation through his spine. But suddenly Cirith heard footsteps aproaching again, more were coming down here.
OOC: gotta grab that chance quick, I'll write a better introduction tomorrow it's 23:30 here and I wwanna get some sleep
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Post by DarkNova50 on Apr 15, 2009 21:38:30 GMT
"When done...run," came a voice from behind Alex, a low wheezing, and distinctly not human. Her scythes still dripping with the dark crimson blood of her fallen prey, Alex turned towards the source of the noise, to look upon a rotting, mottled pile of flesh, another of the mutants who had been set free.
With the hunger that had been eating away at her sated for the moment, the creature was appreciably more lucid than it had been before, though its demeanour remained more beastial than if Alex's human self had retained control. With a brief moment of hesitation, luminescent eyes sizing up this 'ally,' Alex lumbered out of the hallway, and once again into the main chamber.
Hearing the cries of Siorra in the distance, Alex moved with frightening speed, down the steps and into the cell where the woman stood waiting, their avenue of escape revealed for all. As she moved towards the opening of the passage, the smooth blades that protruded from her arms grew in size, lengthening to the reach of an average longsword. Shooting a brief glance to Siorra, she turned back towards the stairwell leading back up to the chamber she had just come from, eyes alert for any sign of the others.
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Post by Vrek on Apr 16, 2009 5:51:01 GMT
Vincent stared, dumbstruck at the impressive use the undead mutant made of a simple telekinesis spell, literally pulling the barred iron doors from their hinges. He was amazed at seeing the gates slam into the stonework, and moments after a no doubt tiring confinement, even! It was something like that, taking something far beyond ihs grasp in terms of skill, and making it child's play, that he felt when the magic spike hit.
The undead mutant urged the others to run, but it didn't register until the she-mutant that unlocked his cell tried, and failed, to pull him along. He didn't need to be told further. As she and her tow-along passed by him, he turned and tried to dash after them. But as it was, he had still not adjusted to his new proportions, and did more stumbling then running. After a bit of trial and error, the smoky giant found a system that worked: He loped down the hall, with large groping hands leading the way.
He came the last cell, just as Siorra pressed in a stone, and part of the wall slid open. Following her instruction, Vincent went through the door, while she waited for the others to catch up.
When he went through the hole, he noticed one thing: there was a lot less natural light inside. No torches or windows were in here, just the odd hole in the wall or ceiling offering a tiny bit of light. Here was something he could handle, even as a novice. He balled his hand into an awkward fist, then slowly released his fingers, a green light coming with it, washing away all but the most distant shadows. He turned and waited for the rest of the mutants to catch up.
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Post by FC4 on Apr 16, 2009 18:25:56 GMT
Agrabal fell forward as the last shackle fell from his hands, and his pelvic arms thrust forward to catch himself. Like an awkward four-legged beast the lich lumbered forward, then straightened, back arching in a stretch. The pelvic arms lifted from the ground as he stood on two legs, then twisted, and adjusted themselves on the ground to a more comfortable position behind his legs. The tail twitched between them, and a moan of joy escaped the Lich's lips.
"Yyyyesssss." His two sets of upper arms clenched hands into fists and flexed, before he faced forward. He walked out of his cell on two legs and two arms, slightly bent back but relatively steady. All the world was a dull violet in the eyes of the undead being, illuminated by the flames of the wall of fire in front of him, caused by the soft blue figure standing before the flames. On the other side of the flames he could see the pale blue lights of several more living entities. And they were still coming, more above them on higher levels of the dungeon.
Growling with rattling breath, the lich raised two of his hands once more, a soft glow again piercing through thin, rotted flesh. Both iron gates, once used as a fence to protect the fleeing mutants, now rose to his calling yet again. Agrabal sauntered forward, the hands actively in a spell reared back like vipers ready to strike, while the back arms flexed at his sides.
His right hand thrust forward, and his left twisted towards his right before thrusting as well. A soft 'shum' of magical energy sent the gates into motion with deadly force. The one that had been to his right rushed through the flames and skewered two guards on its spiked crown, before impaling the wall with a crack. The other whooshed around the molten mutant and hit the guard just coming down the stairwell, pinning him to the stairs and barring the stairwell passage. All three victims screamed for but a short time.
Inhaling with a noise similar to that of a congested nasal passage, Agrabal moved forward once more, his front arms moving gracefully, fingers weaving. These were his original arms, but the other two remained flexing, as he tried to get used to their muscle use. Still unfit for spellcraft, but if he could get accustomed to physical motion, they might still have use.
"Killll... them.... aallll..." He hissed to the melting mutant who had started the firewall.
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Post by webster52402 on Apr 16, 2009 21:49:42 GMT
Chaos... That was what this had become.
Serana, who was lagging behind, thanks to her slower range of movement and much more dumbstruck attitude, looked on at what was happening with horror.
First, the girl that was covered in the black scales had rushed forward, and pulled a screaming man through the wall of flames, to skewer him as though she were butchering an animal rather than a human being. Then, out comes a creature that looks like it was a Lich, though it's grossly mutated just like the rest of them, to start skewering people on the bars that had once held him prisoner.
The guards were just doing their jobs... They were coming to suppress them, just as they were ordered to do, because they were supposed to be monsters. They didn't have to fight here at all, yet they were killing them one after the other for no reason... They could just retreat and let the fire block them, yet... Yet...
Bile rose in the back of her throat as she got a glimpse of the frightened guards through the flickering flames. One of them was just a kid, barely old enough to join the Guard. His armor was still shiny, brand new and without the nicks and scratches of battle, his hand still unsteady around his blade as he waved it into the flames, hoping to save his screaming brethren... His aim was still off with the blade, as he swung up towards the bar that suddenly came in his direction... His voice still young, still soft, as it screamed out in agony, the cold steel ripping through his flesh as though it were nothing... His blood, still full of life, now spilling out onto the floor, nothing but a corpse...
A soft gagging sound emerged from her throat, the hand that held the crystalline man, who as of yet hadn't said a thing, tightening and pulling him firmer against her breast for comfort. "Monsters..." She hissed, taking a step back away from the group that was killing off the guards. "... Monsters, all of them..." She repeated, the firelight flickering in her horrified eyes for a moment, and adding a strange sense of dramatics to it. She was witness to nothing short of butchery, after all...
And with that, she turned on her heel, abandoning the group that was fighting. Down the stairwell she went, heavy footfalls echoing through the corridors, matched only by the screams and cries of pain that still filtered down from above. Down the hall that lay at the foot of the stairs, ignoring the mutant that was begging to be let out entirely. He was probably just like the others... Probably eager to get his hands dirty, and kill the guards that were dying even as she half strode half ran down the hall. He would probably like killing the guards, like that youth. Disgusting creature...
Moving much faster than she thought she was capable of, she reached the point where Siorra and the black scaled woman, who had apparently retreated from the chaos at some point, waited for them. She flashed the woman that had instigated so much death a hateful glance as she brushed past her, half wanting to just extend one claw, and snap those blades of hers right off of her wrist, so that she couldn't do anything like that again. Serana hated her... Hated her with such a passion. She hoped that the woman burned in Oblivion forever for the lives that had been taken...
Another angry glance at Siorra, for letting the creatures out of their cages, and she breezed right past the two of them, not even stopping to look in their direction. Little crystalline mutant, who was probably the only one of the group that looked like he was entirely harmless, held against her breast, she stopped inside the doorway only because she didn't know the way out. Normally, she wouldn't have even cared, and would simply have wandered around until she found the way out, but as it was... She did have someone else with her, that was actually innocent of the crimes of the others. She had to protect at least that...
... Monsters... She hissed in her mind, as she looked back towards the doorway behind her, the stairwell where the others, still butchering, just barely visible. First, she would get out of here, then she would see them pay, in their own blood, for every drop they had spilled...
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Apr 16, 2009 22:23:48 GMT
A twang and a click. A heavy 'chuuunk' sound. That was all Zinguzi heard, repeating over and over as he placed bolt after bolt into guard after guard. He found himself in an egotistical rage at the guards; how dare they, citizens of the Imperial City that had ADORED him, imprison and deface him!? He lost count of the number dropped at fifteen.
Bars moved in front of him and he slowed his pace, confused for a moment. A guard near the back took the opportunity to launch an arrow; it was a skillful shot, planting itself in Zinguzi's right shoulder. He gasped as a stream of magma poured out, and ripped the arrow from his shoulder. Roaring, he melted the tip, took aim, and hurled it at the guard. It seared into his eye, the screaming echoed down to the area where the others escaped.
The bars moved again; they moved through the ranks of guards, impaling and crushing them against walls and floors. It was a damned mess; at least the bolts had been clean, quick ways to go. Zinguzi figured that the soft sloshing sounds intertwined with pained yells of death would stay with him for the night. The lich uttered a drawn out but clear message; Kill Them All.
Zing had no fear that they could do it if they tried; the guards would likely break off the assault after a while. However, it might be more prudent to escape. He was about to turn and break when he saw something that intrigued and enraged him more than anything.
A form came up to the fire; he held in his hands an ebony morningstar, adorned with imperial symbols, and from the soft orange glow of his tarnished armor Zinguzi knew who it was. He had a silky blue hood of a battle mage, standard imperial armor, enchanted by the finest mages to resist fire magic and normal weapons to a high degree, and a deadly cold-enchanted mace; he was one of the chief jailors, and he was a sadistic bastard. Jerald Gravel-Hammer was his name, a hulking nord with an even bigger ego.
He had went to great extents to make Zinguzi suffer; apparently, he thought that punishing him made him the bigger man, or something. Or maybe he just wanted to hurt some 'animals'. Whatever his reasons, he had made Zinguzi scream in pain many times.
The man grinned, leaping through the flames, his armor glowing a deep orange as it absorbed the fire; the wall died immediately, but the soldiers stayed back. They were terrified of all three figures in the area; the cruel jailor, the rotting abomination, and the man of fire. Jerald was still in mid-leap when Zinguzi grabbed him by the face and held him against the wall. He snarled and looked into Jerald's eyes, laughing coldly. He pressed his hand into his face harder, some of his skin expanding a bit.
Jerald let out a long, muffled yell. Eventually it went silent. He removed his hand. Jerald slumped to the ground, eyes glassed over; a giant palm shaped mark on his face was charred and cracked, like Zinguzi's own. He looked to the guards. One threw up, one moved to charge, and some others were too terrified to move. He flicked his fingers at the hay again, the fire going back up. Silently, he turned, cape swishing, and strode down the hall.
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Post by Tom Bombadil on Apr 17, 2009 1:42:36 GMT
Akhil, who had found himself caught off guard by being snatched from the ground, was too disoriented to say anything for a few moments. But by the time he had found his bearings, he simultaneously found himself again speechless.
It was a macabre display. He could see only what he could through the wooden talons of the wooden woman, and he dared not crane his neck to get a better view of the surroundings, for fear he should be dislodged during the flight. But he saw nonetheless.
The scaled woman's display had startled him, but the shock was momentarily replaced by confusion and curiosity. He had never seen such a thing happen to a person before, and no magic seemed to have been used. What had she done? Had she indeed leeched the man's vitality? She seemed almost...healthier...from it.
Then there was the lich.
Necromancy has always seemed an empty art to Akhil, even when he had been an Imperial. It seemed to serve no purpose. Aside from the animation of the dead, which alone seemed such a fruitless idea, lichdom too confused him. Why would a being trade life for unlife? If a positive is exchanged for a negative, what is gained? One may make himself into an immortal husk. It seemed an absurd idea. And yet many of his own colleagues had followed the practice of necromancy. He had known none who had advanced to lichdom, but the subject had been raised once or twice at the University, before Traven's rampage.
He could not deny this: the lich had power. And an extreme amount of it, it seemed. Perhaps whatever man or woman the lich had once been had found power a worthy cause for which to sacrifice life, vitality, senses, and skin. It seemed that mercy was also lost in the transformation. Akhil watched in horror as the guards were impaled, and for the first time since his revelation, wished he had his size back. Not that it would have helped much, but maybe he would have been able to act more quickly, or incapacitate the guards before the lich had gotten to them.
For the guards, he felt great pity. If this was what was being unleashed upon Tamriel, it might have been better if they had not been freed at all.
He witnessed no more of the scene, as Serana headed down the passage with the others. Given his position, his vision was once more hampered. Motion combined with a small area of visibility made the outside world little more than a blur. When Serana had stopped, though, he tried to focus on a single point to try to stabilize his equilibrium (in this case, a wooden bump on Serana's finger). After doing so, he could see a green-lighted area, with three others present: the assassin, the scaled woman, and the shadow man, who appeared to be the source of the light.
"Thank you," he said at last, to Serana, from his position. He was silent for a moment, his eyes panning over the others present, his expression thoughtful. With nothing else coming to mind, he said quietly, to no one in particular, "Was that really necessary?"
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Post by webster52402 on Apr 17, 2009 2:00:33 GMT
Somehow, it seemed that Serana hadn't actually noticed the shadow man that was standing nearby, giving off a soft glow. Indeed, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't even glanced in his direction, though when she glanced down at her chest, that was fixed. Following the little crystal man's gaze, she traced it back to the source of the soft glow, which she had previously assumed was a torch of some kind. Why a torch was giving off green light, she wasn't sure, but she had seen stranger.
At the sight of the shadow man, though, she jerked instinctively, still not quite used to the sight of fellow mutants. She had a brief, and terrible, flashback of what wraiths were like, ghosts that had haunted Morrowind's shores, and it wasn't a pleasant thought. However, he seemed harmless enough, simply standing aside and glowing, so after she recovered her bearings, she simply nodded in the man's direction, before turning her gaze back to the stairwell, and the assassin that stood outside the door.
At least, momentarily. About the time she looked in that direction was about the time a small voice piped up from her chest, drawing the spriggan woman's gaze down once more. She blinked once, slowly, at the crystal man there, before shaking her head slowly, solemnly, from side to side. "You're welcome, though it's natural to help those that are peaceful. You don't exactly look vicious, so I feel obligated to at least see you out." She turned her gaze away from him, and back to the stairwell, falling silent for a few moments.
"... ... ... As for if that was necessary or not..." She began slowly, trying to keep the rising anger from her voice. Her hand instinctively wanted to tighten around the man against her chest, ball her twisted hands into a fist so that she could punish those above herself. Undoubtedly it wouldn't have made it into a fist, her hands were too stiff from the barkish skin all over her, but she bit back the urge anyway. She didn't know how fragile the man was, but he looked like if he was dropped he'd just shatter when he hit the floor.
Her gaze dropped, and fixated on the crystal man once more. "... No, it wasn't. The fire and the iron bars would have been more than enough to block them out. They would have had to put out the flames, remove the iron that blocked their path, come down here, find the secret passage that we apparently are using, and then follow us to try and capture us. By that time, we would have been long gone, more than enough time to retreat. Instead, they decided to slaughter the guards... Men who are simply earning their wages in this place, to go back to their families, and protect their Empire..."
Her voice was hushed as she spoke, though her gaze was hardened. She had seen death in the past, though it disturbed her to see it again. She had seen killing, for reasons both good and bad. She was used to it, but... That didn't mean that she had to enjoy it. Her eyes narrowed slightly as the Lich's wispy voice slipped into her mind, repeating its order to 'Kill them all...' as though he were ordering the extermination of a group of rats that had wandered into his cellar. That, and the screams of the guards, as those beasts complied...
"... It's nothing but cruelty. Sadism. A reflection, of the monsters that we have become." She finished, her voice dripping dark venom. She raised her gaze back to the stairwell, falling silent once more.
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Post by Vicorva on Apr 17, 2009 10:33:04 GMT
Siorra stared blankly at the wall behind her fellow mutants. "It was not necessary," she said threw clenched teeth. The carnage that she had seen there had hit her so much harder than perhaps it might have. She felt... sorry. For the guards. For unleashing this upon the world.
Her eyes went to Alex. The woman, who's voice had seemed so gentle. Within a killers body. "But maybe," she said quietly. "They cannot help it, just like you," her eyes went to Serana. "Can't help but burn in flames. Imagine, Serana, how much more awful it must be for them, to be trapped within a monsters body with a human mind."
She shook her head of her philosophising, feathers ruffling as she did so. But I don't think I shall forgive the lich... she thought. That thing was always a monster. It probably deserves to be put down. Permanently. If only she had the power to do so.
She looked around at everyone before spinning away and heading deeper into the catacombs. This time, she did not wait for anyone.
OOC: Someone free Cirith.
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Cirith
Apprentice
Roleplaying mad genius
Posts: 59
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Post by Cirith on Apr 18, 2009 20:01:58 GMT
"Tomorrow is the day of my execution... I never harmed anyone until they arrested me, I never even once committed any kind of crime, yet they see my condition as a reason to lock me up... and murder me" Cirith was in his cell, already ignored by some of the prisoners trying to flee from the guards. Cirith could only guess that their sneaky escape was unsuccessful after that unholy racket earlier and now they were fleeing the battle in a panic attack or something to postpone their eminent death, Cirith would have liked to get out his humiliating position. his hands were held in a thick wooden bar with holes just big enough for his wrists, locked and chained to the ground with only one foot of chain between his hands and the ground, his feet were shackled in as well, with those chains attached to the base of the wall behind him, lastly his two stingers, both a good one and a half meter long, were also chained to the floor rendering them immobile and unable to reach for anyone to sting them. it left him with knees on the ground and arms together making him look like he was praying, but Cirith knew that wouldn't happen now as he knew an execution can't be fixed by gods, he would have to get out without their help, and now could be his chance...
"Hey! Hey you! Please help me, Just please get me out of here!" the cowards didn't respond "probably cowering in some cell trying not to get caught, pathetic. If I get out of here I'll make 'em pay-" Cirith was caught off guard with that thought, normally he wasn't that aggressive or pessimistic, it struck him as odd, but as he heard new sounds from the stairs a few feet away from his cell door his hope sparked again and he tried to draw attention to his cell when the next person would pass, Cirith knew it wasn't a guard from the lack of metal boots or heavy armor plates striking each other when descending from the stairs. "Please, someone get me out of here!" he called out shaking his chains, hoping someone would get him out of this place.
OOC: I'm not going to make another post inside that cell without anyone helping him out.
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Post by Vrek on Apr 20, 2009 5:30:09 GMT
Vincent stood quietly, listening as the wooden woman confirmed his fears about the screaming echoing down the hall. He had been blocking it out, subconsciously even. They were screams of shock and surprise, he had been telling himself. Not of death.
"Were not monsters." Vincent said finally, mildly surprised at the firmness in his voice, yet he continued, adding to what Siorra had been saying, "Atleast, not you or me. That undead one... I'm not so sure. I'll need to study this whole thing later to be sure, but I'm sure there are two kinds of us. Humans, like us and... monsters." He said, turning his head to the passage they came through, the one leading towards the killers. He trailed off as his rambling finished, a habit he had ever since he began studying in the University.
He stood there quietly, rethinking every part of the theory he had formed during his confinement. When he caught himself, he looked up to find the she-mutant already moving on, deeper into the tunnels. He turned back to the three around him, the two females and the small crystal man, "Let's go, we don;t want to get lost down here." He said, before starting after Siorra, every other step his arms stretching outs, his fingertips holding him upright.
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Post by webster52402 on Apr 20, 2009 10:26:20 GMT
Serana turned her gaze to Siora briefly when she explained that it was possible that the others didn't actually have control over their actions. She doubted that, in the depths of her heart, for many reasons. The actions of the others had seemed far too deliberate and far too complex to be simple beastial reaction. Save for in one case, the case of the dark-scaled woman with the bone scythes, they had all reacted out of revenge rather than necessity. At least she had needed sustenance of some kind, it seemed... The others, they were all cruel.
Also, do you avoid putting down a dangerous animal because it does not know what it is doing and is merely acting on instinct? Does one spare a mountain lion that has developed a taste for blood, simply because it is a creature and incapable of thought? She added mentally, though she didn't bother to voice that opinion. It would only serve to fuel a battle, which they didn't have time for. They could always continue the debate at a later time, whenever they escaped from here.
She did, however, leave a passing remark with the shadowy man when he referred to them as not being monsters. "Yes, we are. Thanks to what we have become, we are all monsters in one way or another. Our minds may be human, to an extent, but we are not." She hissed vehemently, leaving the black-scaled woman behind her. Right now, there was nothing to do but to follow Siorra. Sure, there was that other man behind them that she had seen on the way out. But, Serana was both in no mood and in no condition to be helping anyone out of any cell. If the others managed to follow them, then they would stop and free him. If not... Well, then too bad for him, wasn't it?
She raised another hand up to where she had the crystal man tucked against her breast, lacing her fingers together to create a kind of floor for him so that he didn't have to feel like he was just a doll being carried around. It wouldn't do much, but it would at least give the man some freedom of movement, until she had to use her hands. Which reminded her... She would actually have to learn his name after they got out of here. She couldn't just keep referring to him as the 'Crystal Man'...
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