guy
Refugee
There is love in the red letters, in the red letters.
Posts: 184
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Post by guy on Oct 8, 2009 21:10:30 GMT -5
Guy looked behind him and saw that Krake was beginning to drift off into sleep. He finished the song and asked, "You alright?" Guido hadn't thought to see if the young dragon had the stamina for two days of nonstop flying.
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Krake
Queen's Army
Posts: 50
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Post by Krake on Oct 8, 2009 22:31:20 GMT -5
"Hmm?" Krake shifted his head over to Guy. "Ya, I'm fine. You have a great voice ya'know." HIs voice came out thick at first, so he cleared his throat. He swallowed anoter mouthful of the frigid falling snow before turning back. "What was that song? I've never heard it before."
Now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard of that Shakespeare guy either.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Oct 9, 2009 2:40:52 GMT -5
My heart's a graveyard, baby And to evil we make love. . .
He'd always loved the snow. It matched his skin, cold and white and almost translucent. Yes, Kazeielan loved the snow, and he loved this graveyard, this ancient, hidden, destroyed mansion he'd discovered while he hunted, hunted to stem that bloodlust that took no root in his supernatural nature. It was a warping of the mind, a thing that made him hunt and made him kill the way it did, not the vampirism that had done nothing but make his large teeth sharper anyway.
There were dragons in the sky, beasts he'd fought as a boy, things he had killed before. That didn't mean there was no bad blood for the stealing of his arm, the fact he'd had to fashion a new one of darkness and stolen bones. The storm had grown wicked, but the smell was there, and it made him edgy. Not so much, though, that he would not dance in this storm, relish in this power, this raw display of nature.
Kazeielan slipped from one of the remaining hallways, folding his coat neatly and setting it on the floor. He would never get so cold he would freeze to death, and that was good enough. In the snow, the open grounds, he stood, angular face turned up to the sky, a smile revealing those massive teeth of his. Crimson curls were tossed in the swirling wind, framing his face almost eerily. He laughed, all of a sudden, and it was not the laugh of a man at peace. It was a tortured sound, low and gravelly, unsettling as that of a death rattle. Matched his crooked smile, actually, made crooked because of the scar that ran the length of the right side of his face. He laughed, and he sang, tortured songs in a tortured language, rough and vicious, the perfect language for a man so mad. . .
. . .On our passion's killing floor
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guy
Refugee
There is love in the red letters, in the red letters.
Posts: 184
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Post by guy on Oct 9, 2009 14:10:07 GMT -5
(Time jump) The two days went by slowly as they fought through the ever growing snow storm. Guido explained the story of the song Amazing Grace, and about the world he had heard it in. It was a far away land full of strange inventions, like something called gunpowder that caused explosions when set on fire. Soon, he could see what was left of his home. He grew uneasy as they flew closer. A fell voice was on the wind, bestial and harsh. It was singing in a strange language. It sounded like a tortured soul from the very fires of hell, a sound Guido knew all to well from his brief encounter with hell. Krake would know all soon enough. He spotted a figure lurking among the graves and what was left of his home. This thing was a most unwelcome guest, and he hoped that whatever it was did not work for Waefae, and did not want a piece of him. Guido landed, transforming into his human form as his feet touched the ground. He drew his sword, unsure of if this unwelcome presence was a threat. "Who goes there?" he cried out over the storm. "Be ye friend or foe?"
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Krake
Queen's Army
Posts: 50
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Post by Krake on Oct 9, 2009 17:48:24 GMT -5
Krake felt like he was going to fall out of the air. Guy kept true to his word, and they hadn't stopped to rest yet. His eye's were half-lidded, and he only contained enouigh energy to follow behind Guy. The noises in the air were only enought to make him a bit more conscious. 'What was that?' he trailed behind Guy when the dragon flew to the ground next to a cematary.
When Guy transformed, Krake did so also, landing rather clumsily on his feet. The sweatshirt! Thats what he had forgotten. Shirtless, he shivered lightly and flicked his tired eye's over the headstones.
His vision missed the dark figure, and when Guy called out for an answer, his gaze still checked for life in the field of death. He heard the singing of a sword as it was drawn, and took a step closer to Guy. He didn't have a weapon, and even if he did he was too tired to make any difference in a battle.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Oct 9, 2009 19:40:14 GMT -5
My heart's a graveyard, baby And to evil we make love. . .
With the sound of voices, the haunting song ceased, and there was a moment of eerie silence from the man. He spun once more, and then collected himself. Moments of abandon were not his style, and so, he kept from dancing, though he so loved the snow. His red hair was tossed by the wind as he gently stroked his fingers over a gravestone, cold as his own flesh. He had a fixation with the markers of death, he always had. These, in particular, were beautiful. The side facing the house was slightly charred, and he wiped some off with the tip of his white finger.
"Aahaha, mein lieber, I am your fhriend iif you are not here to kill me!" he called. Kazeielan had a resounding voice, deep and in his throat, a sound more felt than heard. He didn't really need to try and yell over the storm- his voice carried wonderfully. And then his ears picked up the sound of a sword, and his thin body went stiff. He slipped around a gravestone, a thin eyebrow raised in question. Waltz in here and take him from his palace of charred serendipity? Not on his immortal life.
"Liebling, I zuggest you phut dhat zvord avay, ja?" he said, his strange accent very thick, the damage to his mouth making his words ever harder to understand. Kazeielan spoke slowly enough that they could, though. He'd wound up behind them, using the storm and the gravestones as cover, and he'd drawn two small blades. Maybe nothing against a sword, in the hands of any other man. "Iif you do, I phromize not to turn you into my zupper," he added, laughing softly. The air was crackling now, his power wakened with the fact one may have meant to harm him.
. . .On our passion's killing floor
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guy
Refugee
There is love in the red letters, in the red letters.
Posts: 184
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Post by guy on Oct 9, 2009 20:49:30 GMT -5
Guy began to sheath his sword when he heard two knives being drawn. His hand rested on the hilt, at the ready if negotiations went ill. "I only wonder why a stranger is hiding behind my sister's grave. Most people stay clear of here since Waefae attacked my home sixteen years ago. This is all that is left of my family and my home. These twenty-nine graves, and myself."
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Krake
Queen's Army
Posts: 50
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Post by Krake on Oct 10, 2009 1:29:05 GMT -5
Krake shivered again as the wind swept the snow over them like a haze. '16 years ago and 26 graves?' He was astonished at exactly how many graves their were, and he felt worse when he knew all of them were once people Guy cared for.
Behind his sisters headstone? He looked again and still saw nothing. He couldn't place where the sound of knives being drawn came from, and it bothered him. Was he really that weak where he couldn't use his senses to even see this stranger?
His teeth chattered lightly as another wind blew, and he gripped his hands into tight fists, or at least tried. He couldn't feel them anymore. He swayed dangerously on his feet but kept close to Guy, the only familiar object in this foriegn place.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Oct 13, 2009 20:08:34 GMT -5
My heart's a graveyard, baby And to evil we make love. . .
He slipped out from behind the headstone, menacing in his height and the wicked grin on his face. Still, Kazeielan was humming, the sound deep in the back of the throat. "Aah, Leibling, I velcome dhe zhought of Waefae. Let zhe zhade come!" He laughed softly, sheathing his blades. Kazeielan stood with a bit of a slouch, his face angled toward the ground while his eyes looked toward a person, giving him a predatory edge.
"Dhank you for putting zhe svoard avay," he said, though he wasn't at all more relaxed now. That smile, that morbid smile, still teased at the edge of his mouth as he moved around to stand in front of them, his long hands very lightly touching the headstones. Kazeielan looked the part of the grave keeper, what with his pale skin that made the snow seem off-white. Oh, he fit in perfectly here, and he may as well have been the one that had dug the graves.
Massive, skeletal hands pushed crimson hair away from his scarred face, his dark eyes gleaming in the light of the storm. "Come back to face zhe ghosts of your past? Vell, Leibling, I can assure you dhat it vhill not eaze zhe pain," he said, turning his back on the men. Kazeielan's hearing was sharp enough he'd hear them coming, and he would sense their hatred or passion to kill him if they tried.
. . .On our passion's killing floor
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guy
Refugee
There is love in the red letters, in the red letters.
Posts: 184
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Post by guy on Oct 13, 2009 21:05:36 GMT -5
Guy was startled to see the pail figure come out from behind Leana's grave, not by the person's presence, but by how pale he looked. He looked like a wrath from the netherworld. Those scars made the sick grin look even more twisted. He knew that spark in the man's eyes, he'd seen that same light in Runa Cypher's eyes. This man was an immortal, an immortal with a dark past. Guy slowly took off his trench coat and handed it to the shivering Krake. The cold wouldn't bother him as much as it would bother Krake. "I come back here because it is home, and because it is where my family is." He could feel the oppression of the place, but he would stand his ground. The snow made everything look so ghostly in the night. He looked at the charred remains of the house. He began to walk towards his sister's grave. He moved slowly, not wanting to threaten the immortal in any way. A fight with this man would be futile, he knew that. He stood in front of his sister's grave and knelt down beside it. He looked up at the man and said. "My name is Guy Fawkes, and you are?"
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Krake
Queen's Army
Posts: 50
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Post by Krake on Oct 13, 2009 21:26:33 GMT -5
Krake shivered again, his true form was much more tolerant than this one. He was surprised as Guy held out his jacket. Thats right, Guy could turn into something with clothes other than a pair of pants! He mentally growled and accepted the coat, swiftly wrapping it around his frame.
The figure which emerged from behind a headstone looked like something that had been dug up from a grave and was given it's breath back. HIs hair was a shade of crimson, almost matching his own eye's. HIs accent was foriegn, and it was like no ther he heard before.
As GUy begn to move way, Krake fought a battle of wills. Follow an ally towards the stange half-dead, or stay where he was-out in the open. Deciding, he stayed put, the warmth of Guy's jacket letting the feeling seep back into his fingers.
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