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 Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 5:25 pm
The summons to gather all the surviving and located members of the Lost Clans had been brief, simply a calling, spread by word of messengers. War horsemen, that flew all corners and outposts, in the Human world and in Halloween, locating each and every member of the Lost Clans.
The Lost Clans, the remaining legacy of the Four Clans, creatures once considered so powerful and threatening in Halloween they could have crumbled empires and taken over the Human world. Could. Now they were barely just fragments of their former selves. Now, they were just shadows. Nothing of their old homes remained, the Hunters had taken care of that, blasting their islands until the only thing that lingered were broken pieces of fear that had dissolved into Insanity, the epitome of unstable Fear. The land was as good as a null zone, strange and uninhabitable, overrun by Insanity creatures that sprouted without reason, horrific creatures that had lost all semblance of what they once were and now mindlessly sought to devour.
All they had left to remember their legacy by was a temporary home, still crude, makeshift. Tents scattered all directions, small semblances of living. At least Medea had been kind in granting them a Lair, a factory to harvest Fear from captured Humans, a place where they could carry out their activities, their true purpose away from prying eyes, but even that had been recently taken from them.
To put a long story short, the Horsemen had misbehaved and were, in all terms and senses, grounded. Boogeymen patrolled their temporary home day and night, setting sentries at all corners. Extra security was placed in Amityville, where Horsemen were required to take mandatory classes (though most just skipped out on those as it was a waste of time and effort to learn things they already knew). Everything had fallen one step back, after they had been so close to finally extracting their revenge on the Hunters, the ones who had destroyed their islands, and ultimately regain the power they had lost the second their islands fell out of power. A Horsemen's power was tied to their lands, and currently, they had none. They were weaker than they had ever been before, proof of their weakness in how easily Halloween Town controlled their each and every action. At one point they had been an empire, and now they were not even a colony, a subpar subspecies of Halloween Town, neither Ghost, Demon, Undead, nor Reaper or Monster. Horsemen. A derogatory term for those fallen. A term for the trash that resided in Halloween Town without intent or purpose. Unable to catch up, modernize with the world or adapt to the Fear of Halloween Town, they simply fell out of sync, outcast and forgotten.
This was everything he knew when he stepped into the created meeting grounds. A large arena where Medea's tent had been constructed, now collapsed thanks to her quick retirement from horsemen leadership. She had made some bold moves, and unfortunately, some wrong ones. Now, someone else stood, towering over her in presence, their shadow deeper than any the Head Priestess ever cast. This wasn't any horsemen, this wasn't a figurehead from Halloween Town, or a representative the Horsemen had re-elected, if they were even that type of social structure. No, this was the Horsemen of Death, the Ancient, known to some cultures as gods, commanding all elements of their aspect of Fear in the Human and Halloween world. They controlled balances, nuances, parts of the world, they were the reason that aspect existed, and so they had no equal.
This was who was standing in the middle of the created symposium that day, just a flat field, a crater dug in the center, with the Horsemen of Death standing in the very center. He was a very thin, nondescript and pale Human-looking figure, his Fear however radiated outwards almost infinitely. It felt as if despite his non-assuming stance, he was looking all directions and more so, right at them, each and every one. Death, who had been called so many names through the reigns of Humans, from Osiris to Hades to Pluto, and now simply re-assumed his original and true name. Older than the Four Clans itself, it was rumoured that he was the one who founded the original clans and then, with three other Riders, created the five islands that had once been the Four Clans.
All ends had a beginning, and so, he was here perhaps to give them purpose again and create from bare nothingness true structure. It was what some Horsemen hoped, it was what some perhaps feared.
As most of the called horsemen began to pile in, he gestured towards a Famine sentry, saying a few choice words. They returned with a couple of simple folded chairs, most likely stolen from the Amityville gymnasium, one for Death, one for Medea, and then another for a third figure, solemn and serious, whom many were actually unfamiliar with. The three were seated at the center, Medea looking anywhere but at Death, the progenitor pulling out a paper bag to quietly drink a container that said "MACARONI GRILL" on it from a plastic straw, and then the third figure who seemed fixated on a single spot ahead of him, blank and unfeeling.
Finally, moments later, all the horsemen had arrived, taking spots around the area, seats filed upwards, so all could see clearly those in the center. Putting his drink back into the paper bag, the horsemen of Death stood up first, folding his thin hands behind him. He was dressed in his usual, a slim black suit, a cane, a pocketwatch, a handkerchief. He paced slowly, talking quietly, voice projected by his Fear alone. "So many familiar faces, it is almost nostalgic for me, wouldn't you agree, Medea?"
Medea sort of looked extremely interested in not replying and looking at him.
The horsemen of Death frowned, but didn't seem to be that particularly upset. He paused in mid-step. "Ah the Lost Clans, you have always been one of my favourite stories, from creation to finish you have followed the same purpose, even molded the Humans around you to believe, to Fear in you, admirable traits yes, but unfortunately time does change all, and even you and I are not exempt to this." He paused, and then pulled a tin of mints from his pocket, taking one for himself, offering two to the other, both who kindly refused. "Now, if you excuse me for barging in so suddenly, I'm sure some are you are thinking I'm just an old man, my time is also gone, so on so forth, and yet I am here because, well for one, I can be, and for two, you should be. Let me demonstrate."
Everything turned black, like watching an illusion, like sitting in room cast with shadows, before something flickered into view.
"Recognize this?" spoke the same dry tone, "I thought a little nostalgia might at least attract your attention. That, was once your home land. That is the source of your Fear and probably why you haven't been feeling too good recently. Now I would like to say something optimistic here, maybe like, oh with the power of friendship you can accomplish anything, but I think you are beginning to get the picture here. Insanity can be purposeful and it has potential, but unfortunately as it stands is unchartered territory, wild and quite untamed. An analogy would be like attempting to grasp raw electricity and hoping you don't get hurt, only slightly more painful. Insanity can be useful, but it has unfortunately, especially in this case, run rampant, and has been allowed to run rampant for too long. Now, instead of growing into something structurally sound, instead what you get is this, an uncontrolled force leaking everywhere and eating holes into everything, like a virus, well, pretty much a virus in its raw form."
The illusion shattered, and they were back looking at the three in the center again. Death folded his hands forwards now. "What I think I'm trying to say now, is that you really should well, consider your options. Your state of deterioration, your Fear, your existence was dependent on your original clans, the islands, and I'm afraid even I cannot move them or relocate your very existence. It means that the second the Insanity fully spreads out and consumes your Islands well, I'm afraid that's what happens when a virus runs its course. You fall in line in your place in the evolution chain and become obselete."
"I only tell you this of course, because you are all my favourites. I'm not here to chastise you, just give you a working chance. All this stuff with Distortion, this gathering of Fear, and you've been channeling it to those Hunters, which bless their short-lived souls I'm sure is entertaining but is also a tremendous waste of energy. Have any of you considered instead, how important Distortion is to salvaging and restricting Insanity? As I said, Insanity can be used, it can even be re-purposed, but only with Distortion. Distortion is sparked from concentrated Fear, or at least your crystals have that purpose. True Distortion, in its raw and untainted form, is an immeasurable resource. Just a small concentrated amount of it in its true form can counter any form of Insanity, but of course, like anything, the price toll is high. I'm old and I think I'm rather not one for high stake gambles here, so please, use your Distortion crystals, the ones Medea gave you. If you were unfortunately not here for that rendez-vous, I have many I have carried with me over time, and I am sure Medea is happy to assist you as well."
"Now Halloween Town has warned me about your recent behaviour, so if you are to collect Fear, which I highly advise you to do save yourselves, please at least be prudent. Walk carefully, try not to leave bodies, and Humans can be harvested fine without doing that killing thing, don't even pretend for a moment you can hide it because I end up with the dirty work and that's no fun. When you have finally collected enough Fear, enough to fill your Distortion crystals, there is one last, very last favour I must ask of you, if you trust me that is, and if you realize how deeply in danger you currently are."
He held out one skeletal hand. "I will ask that you return those Distortion crystals to me permanently." A pause and then he sat back in his chair, leaning backwards, just slightly. "Now, all orderly now, in an orderly fashion, are there any questions. I booked this slot for a few hours and I am happy to indulge, my team is currently doing some work for me off the side. Once the question period is time, well, you are all adults here," the corners of his tight expression twitched into a smile, "we can most likely carry the next part out in an orderly fashion." OOC WELCOME ALL HORSEMEN:- RIGHT NOW THIS RP IS FOR HORSEMEN ONLY. Initiates will be invited after the restructuring! - Welcome to part 1 of restructuring of the Horsemen clans! All players are invited, even newbies and ones that have not rped for a long time. Read the prompt above and think and respond accordingly! IF your character would like to ask any question, simply have them post below and QUOTE ZOOBEY. If it's just a comment to someone else, just quote that person, and do NOT quote me. Post QUESTIONS in EXCLAMATION POSTS- This RP will be mostly in three parts, this part (the QNA), the second part involving distortion crystals and relinquishing them, and the third of rebuilding the Horsemen empire, or at least giving them structure and purpose. IF you are here for all three parts, even with minimal posting, you will get +6 rp points for this entire exercise! - ALL NEWBIES ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED EVEN IF YOU HAVE NOT POSTED. Feel free to rp and post your reactions, this is what the rp is for! Right now again it is QNA (open) but later on it will taper to horsemen based activities. We want players to get a feel for what it is like to rp a horsemen and this is ideally the thread to get you started. We are essentially rebooting everything in this direction, as horsemen find a cure for the Insanity plaguing their lands, or at least try to slow it down! - You don't NEED to ask any questions, you can simply post to rp, and interact with others, or just write a reaction post. When the next prompt is ready, I will have it in the title of the thread. The next prompt will be 48 hours from this post (PART II ), and I will be doing gm snippet replies in the meanwhile! Please don't feel shy and feel free to hop in, this is an AMAZING WAY for your character to get started and icly meet other players and understand their current situation. gaia_crown KEY TERMS AND FIGURES: MEDEA: Originally leading the new Four Clans under the name the Lost Clans after their original islands fell to Insanity, she sought only for revenge against the Hunters, leading the Horsemen down this singular path. Her carelessness has gotten many in trouble, and she currently has relinquished her temporarily reign back to the horsemen of Death DEATH: (The Horsemen). An Ancient, considered gods at one point, who is the Fear of the very name he is called by. An elderly gentleman, he has a strange sense of humour and an appreciation for Humans as what they are. His motives seem to be to help the horsemen and push them in a true direction to save themselves, and perhaps save several from the Insanity they are fighting within themselves. ??? The third figure seated next to Medea and Death. Stoic and quiet, he wears a hood over his face. Strapped around his belt, over his cloak, are a pair of modern-looking oven mitts with a bright checkered pattern looking entirely out of place. He carries them with him simply because Death asked him to hold onto them for the time being. LOST CLANS: The new name for the horsemen, after their islands were exploded by the Hunters. BOOGEYMEN: The "police force" of Halloween Town, acting to make sure those of Halloween Town and even of the Human world (where in their jurisdiction) don't cross the line. There are several branches of Boogeymen and all of them are formidable HALLOWEEN TOWN: Where the current Horsemen are residing. This is home to many familiar places, and the creation place of the infamous Jack Skellington, the greatest Pumpkin King. It is also home currently to Amityville, the school, that school, the one with the annoying students. HUNTERS: Entirely Human creatures that pretty much blew up the original horsemen islands (which all horsemen know at this point). They wield sentient weapons, that were once creatures of Fear themselves. Hunters are seen as protectors of the Human world, though their views clash directly with the Horsemen who would rather just farm Humans for their Fear.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 5:43 pm
Finally. Finally someone she could respect. Someone worthy of it. Manyara fixed her gaze on Medea, radiating hatred for a moment, then turned to Death. She would not look at the Priestess from now on if she could at all avoid it.
Death's words were... many, as was so often the case with his kind; not that she'd had the pleasure of hearing him before, but his voice made her long anew for that of her Queen. Her jaw tightened as he continued, and when he showed them the image of the Four Isles in their current state, she could not help but snarl, a low rumble of fury only just contained. She had no marker for what Insanity was, other than that it was very wrong and she could smell its taint on several of their number. The horrific Phoenix that Medea had shown her would have been the most foul thing she'd ever seen if not for the Isles themselves.
... Try not to leave bodies? Manyara laughed then, a sharp bark that she could not hold back. Why should they allow those fools of Halloween to dictate their actions? Her role in the Clan, her very purpose was that destruction. It was in her bones. Why would even Death pretend that what Halloween wanted mattered at all?
"Why," she hissed, straightening to her full five-foot height. So imposing. "Why care about bodies. Why care about them." She gestured sharply in the rough direction of Amityville. "They do not rule us."
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 5:54 pm
Ying stayed mostly still and listened the entire time. She was very honored to even be put in the same space as Death and Medea, let alone be addressed by them. It was a little uncomfortable with the way Death always seemed to be staring at her, but at most all she did was fidget.
As he told the story- her story- Ying found herself growing more and more depressed. All this talk of the islands, the insanity- she didn't like it at all. The way death was talking, it was as though he was lingering on the edge, barely teetering in front of something larger. It sounded like an attack on the humans. While Ying was all for the extermination of the humans that called themselves hunters, she was unsure about a full scale attack. Truth be told, Ying was growing rather accustomed to their lives here. Some days she was able to go an entire day without thinking about revenge. The way death made it sound though- it didn't sound like there was another option. The insanity would soon kill them here, then?
Well it wasn't like she was going to protest the idea. Ying would never, ever question her leaders. They were absolute in their reign. When all was said and done, Ying very timidly approached death and only stated, "I am h-honored to serve, sir. I ... perhaps this is off topic, and I am terribly sorry to waste your time if so, but would it be possible for us to visit the islands ever again?" She looked down shyly. She knew they could not be restored to their former glory- everyone in the clan knew that. "If only to say goodbye?"
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 5:58 pm
The horsemen of Death paused a bit after Manyara's rather blunt question. "You know what I like, I really like cleverly crafted toys. I actually brought some with me," he turned to nod to the figure next to Medea, who very slowly and solemnly took out a box. Inside it was a marionette set, crafted from wood. He took out the two, one in each spindly hand, and began to move them around. They sort of flopped around uselessly because despite being Death, he really wasn't a trained puppeteer.
"All right, let's say this is you," he moved the girl-looking one around, managing at best to make her arms wiggle up and down, "and that one is the Humans. Now, imagine if you struck the Human down." The puppets, instead of striking each other, just sort of jiggled, some of their strings tangling up. Death sighed and put them back into the box. "This is a really bad analogy, I'm just going to try to explain this and you're going to have to imagine it from your imagination zone. Everyone, Halloween Town, Horsemen, everyone and everything with Fear need a grounding point. That's their spark, something to contain them, it's their home and their source of nourishment. As you stand, the only thing keeping you in existence is the kind graces of the Halloween Town, despite what your pride might say, so this very area you are standing on and the fact that Insanity has not obliterated your original clans. Since the original Four Clans, well how do I say it, this might be a shock to you but they sort of exploded, that leaves us with one option and that is right here in this town. I am familiar with Medea's lair but it does nothing to help your Fear be contained in the long run."
He closed the box, giving it back to the other patiently waiting. "That being said, out of respect for the very place that pretty much kept you alive, I highly recommend that you care about bodies because we are not exempt from their laws and in the event you do get kicked out, you will have both nowhere to go and no further existence. Horsemen yes, savages no. It is only common courtesy." Here, Medea sort of did this twitch, shooting a quick look at Death before turning the other way. "Of course, since I am only here temporarily, after you guys find your way, I guess I have no choice but to turn a blind eye, but I should probably remind you of consequences."
A cookie popped out of nowhere from his pocket, and he examined it neatly before offering it to the figure holding the box. Said figure looked like they were about to say no, and then politely took it, placing it on top of the marionette box.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 5:58 pm
Aeron had unfortunately only just found the horseman on the reserve, and barely had gotten his tent set up when they were called to the meeting. He tucked his wings behind him carefully as he took a seat and looked around, admiring with his usually stoic face that numbers of his clan together.
And then he straightened and listened to the leader as he spoke. he had been unaware that so much had gone on, and limited knowledge made the guardian feel obsolete and useless among his peers. Ones that had been here much longer and knew what Death spoke of.
He had many questions, but most of them would be met if found a priestess or another guardian to inform him.
For now, his arms crossed and his face remained stern and quiet.
Much like:
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:09 pm
Like a moth to a flame, Nergui had followed the pull of Death's fear to where he stood in the center of the crater. Even hurt, still recovering, she had not hesitated. Medea had been afforded a glance, the dark skinned mare's head tilting thoughtfully before she returned her full and undivided attention to Death. The image of the homes, decaying and destroyed, was like a knife to the priestess' heart, and she brought a hand up to press over lips that had parted in a gasp. Her expression only turning more dire the longer Death spoke about Insanity, and it's similarities to a virus. An appropriate analogy, specially to one still afflicted. Not everything he said inspired fear. She had been dreaming of the brief images of forges and tree top houses, gardens and caverns. All together, intermingled in one place. The hint of what might have been past, but what Nergui clung to as future, that the echo of the phoenix had revealed as it died. Death spoke of saving themselves, of restructuring, and the priestess dared to hope. That maybe, just maybe, what she'd seen would come to being. When all had concluded and Death had asked for questions the mare stepped forward, bumping into a stoic figure beside her. Dark arms coming to wrap around her body, one hand drifting up to her shoulder swathed in bandages and the healing hole that ran through it. "Lord Death! Are you returning to us then?" Again her eyes flicked to Medea, but did not remain. She respected the head priestess, but the small woman could not hold a candle to Death himself. None of them could.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:14 pm
Sitting quietly as she listened to Death, gold eyes ran over those present. Then back to Death. On one hand Lan admired his bluntness, on the other, she didn't like it. She also didn't like his puppet show. Sorry. That was getting a bit too far into analogies. Something she wasn't exactly the most skilled with. " Is there a chance then, that like insanity, those who have been in contact with distortion might have suffered from long term effects? Something we might not have been informed of initially?" There was no accusation in her tone, only a faint hint of concern.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:22 pm
Thera only had a single question for Death. " ..........Lord Death, will you be attending Prom?" Maybe two questions. zoobey LOOK. Some things just need to be asked.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
Crew
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:28 pm
Manyara's response to Death's explanation was just a curt, grudging nod. At least she'd been given a reason. She didn't like that reason, but she understood it. They had to have somewhere else to go before tearing free of this place... but when they had, she would come back and make them regret what they'd done to the Four Clans.
She settled back into a crouch and watched the others warily.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:35 pm
She had a lot of questions, since she'd just been reunited with her fellow kind. However, Bao Yu wasn't sure where to begin. Her head was swimming. The small scholar stood there, her painted lips pursed in a thin line. Her eyes were focused on the two before her, wide in awe and glittering with thoughts circling her head.
Everything was happening all at once. She reached for Lifen's hand. She'd yet to stray far from her sister. For now, she remained silent. Maybe her questions would be answered if she did.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:39 pm
Death looked surprised at Ying's question, if one put past the fact that he was probably not actually surprised but merely using facial expressions for decorum. "Why I thought I had explained that part at least quite clearly, but I clearly am getting old for my age. Let me try again. As your current old islands stand, no, it would be a terrible idea to go back because well, the Insanity would probably eat you in one bite. That is why I am here, well to some degree. If we gather enough Distortion we should, theoretically, be able to push some of the Insanity back or at least enough to contain it. So yes, the good news is you will be able to visit your old home, but the success rate depends entirely on your cooperation and yours alone, I'm afraid."
Nergui received a thin and long smile. "I think you got your order mixed up but no, I am just here to help. After I assist, I will have to return to my boring day job. I am sure Medea and my protege Charon here will kindly push you in the right direction. Save one life, save many." Medea, and the figure holding the box, oven mitts and cookie in one hand sort of snapped to awareness at Death's words, the Head Priestess looking nonplussed while the other sort of just helplessly tried to offer the cookie back to Death.
"Ah, the unfortunate Insanity afflicted," next was Lan's question, "to recap, Insanity is indeed something of an infection untamed, but with the proper amount of structure and control, being rather a new discovery itself, I am relatively confident that it can be structured and of use, given time. There are many who are more at peace with Insanity with a healthy control of Distortion, why those with Insanity and Distortion are living examples of how both can coexist to balance each other. Without Distortion however, Insanity running along its own merry way, well you can see what is wrong with this picture now can't you?" He paused and then looked slightly thoughtful. "I would consider this Prom thing, I am assuming for the school you are currently tied to, but unfortunately," a dramatic sigh, "I have no date. Unless Medea..."-
- The Head Priestess looked the other way, but Charon, also known as the other seated figure holding the oven mitts and box and cookie, turned to look at Death expectantly.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 6:46 pm
Fai stood towards the back of the group, his shortness keeping him somewhat obscured behind the taller horsemen. But he wasn't asking questions. Instead he dangled his distortion crystal off of a chain, watching it curiously as he tried to figure out how one would harness it to deal with the Insanity.
He wondered, perhaps, if running around in strange costumes that showed far too much skin was going to be remembered far longer than he had a desire for it to be.
Then he started thinking of just how obsolete the horsemen had become.
Then he started wondering if he had forgotten his bottle of wine again, and all previous thoughts were lost as he started searching his robes for his bottle.
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Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 7:00 pm
The Death Priestess was not entirely sure what to think.
Where had Death been? Why had he been missing so long, in their time of need? She respected the Head Priestess--certainly, she did, even if there was an occasional wondering on her motivations with those foxfire things--but nothing was quite like having the true power of Death there, and if he was around, alive, had survived what he reminded them had killed their homelands, why did he wait so long to return? Why did he only return now?
Of course, these questions were unfair of her, and certainly, Death had many more important things to do than attend to some horsemen that were spending their time bumbling in a foreign land that they did not understand. Perhaps they could only handle him now, or he had become so ashamed of their failure to stand along that he only returned now, there to clean up their messes and put them back on their feet again.
Questions bubbled to her lips, but an amount of shame in herself kept her mouth shut, along with a gentle, soft reminder to herself that, "Your questions are not important, 'Zana."
But why did he want the Distortion Crystals permanently? If they were what fought the insanity, would it not be harmful to take them away? Of course, he was Death, he knew what was best and Nkosazana would willingly buy them, but mentally, she had trouble justifying it, even as her mind whirled and winced a few times over at the images of her destroyed homeland that kept flashing in her mind. It was hard--she had not been there when it happened, and to some extent, she was glad, but ... it did not make it any easier.
So she would stay quiet for the moment, listening, observing, attempting to figure out her situation before she moved and choke down the questions and doubts that threatened to bubble out of her lips. To question would be disrespectful. But ... Charon? Death had a protege? Who was that? Curiosity burned in her, but still, she bit down on her lip.
She didn't really want to say something stupid.
Or embarrassing.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 7:15 pm
It could be said that Mengyao held little to no trust towards the priestess Medea - and although there were many in this particular crowd that ran after her footsteps, he was not one of them. He supposed that could make him what they called a dissenter, but simultaneously Mengyao was not exactly against Medea's plans.
He just did not trust her.
Which was why he stood somewhere near the back, alone, hands folded into his long, draping sleeves, a look of consternation on his face, grey spindling out from the corners of his eyes and spreading across the skin of his cheeks. He could hear the voices as strong as they ever were, perhaps stronger now, but he made no movement to step forward and offer up what he had to Death.
Instead he just stood there silently and quietly and waited.
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Posted: Fri May 31, 2013 7:17 pm
Kiwi turned golden eyes to the one who stood at the head of the assembly.
... So this was Death himself.
He had long heard rumor of the god as it were. And it set a small pang in the center of his chest, recalling that the figurehead of Death was the sole surviving incarnation of the Four Clans. The colt listened with perked ears, taking in every word their new leader had to say.
The Lost Clan, led by Death. A small part of the horseman wondered what that would mean. But an even greater part of him felt it to his core, this felt right. They were horsemen after all. It was their calling to lay waste and seize power.
And again, he wondered what that power would bring with it. As Death himself said, all things come with a price. What would this cost them?? ... He wanted to know. Medea's reign had never rested well on his chest, even bound to it as he had been, and look where she had placed them. In the very hands of the scarelings like a cheap toy.
But mention of Insanity riveted his attention. The sight of their homeee ... their beloved island swamped in grey mist coiled his stomach in knots. He had glimpsed it once before, in the vision Medea had shown them, but ... but he couldn't understand. How, as he stared on a part of him longed to be back on the isles in the warm sun and blue sky, surfing the sand and singing and dancing merrily with his loved ones, his family ... And yet, another part of him longed to be there, there with the shadows and the voices ... grey tantalizing his senses at the same time it sickened him.
He ran a hand along his arm, fingers brushing across skin that seemed just a shade or two darker. Or perhaps, greyer.
Distortion. Such a simple word, and yet it slipped across his mind like the one thing that had been poised on his tongue and just out of reach this entire time. Why had he not realized ... Hunger lit in his golden eyes. A hunger to know more. More about Distortion, more about this curse he bore, and why and how it alone was so effective.
"Lord Death," he raised a hand. "Pardon me, but I am curious ... what about Distortion makes it so effective against Insanity, where so many other 'cures' have failed??"
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