07-01-2016, 03:02 PM
THE EARTH IS ALIVE, AND MAN IS A PARASITE.
AND HEAVENLY BODIES MAKE US FIGHT.
He observes as the other tenses, even slightly, wary of the new scent upon the horizon - but as he nears, his uncertainly seems to melt into a casual simper, which Offspring returns. His dark red eyes sear into him as he takes a long moment to imprint the image of him onto his age-old mind; slender and spindly, Pyroclast is evidently still young but no younger than his own two boys and he is more at ease than perhaps he would be with any other newcomer. After all, his own brute strength has always been his greatest asset. Still, he understands that even the smallest, most insignificant thing can be a threat (and Pyroclast is neither) and so he remains firmly rooted, waiting.
He offers his name, and a simple request - quick, to the point. It is painfully uncommon, but there is something different about the way he gazes now and then to the dull landscape that looms drearily behind him. The tall, icy mountains, the thick slush that covers the thick permafrost, even the way the rolling fog blends the horizon into one dark, gray canvas - it all seems familiar to him, and Pyroclast seems to take a long moment to absorb it, to re-familiarize himself. Perhaps he had known of his place long before he himself had taken the throne - perhaps there was more to this stranger.
Little does he realize what piece of history he may be tangling in.
Nonetheless, his interest is piqued.
"I see. Welcome, Pyroclast - the Brotherhood here can offer you shelter and protection, if you so desire it. It can also offer you much more, should you decide to take that leap and merge with us through an unorthodox initiation process." He pauses, thinking to the rich, albeit disturbing initiation within the very heart of an old, jagged cave - the helpless memories, the searing screams of torment from within. The once stark alabaster scar remains beneath his right eye, though it has faded into a light gray over time.
"We are always in need of Brothers, and residents alike. There are many women and children that reside here as well, and none are to be harmed without consequence. You are welcome to stay if you can abide by that."
He offers his name, and a simple request - quick, to the point. It is painfully uncommon, but there is something different about the way he gazes now and then to the dull landscape that looms drearily behind him. The tall, icy mountains, the thick slush that covers the thick permafrost, even the way the rolling fog blends the horizon into one dark, gray canvas - it all seems familiar to him, and Pyroclast seems to take a long moment to absorb it, to re-familiarize himself. Perhaps he had known of his place long before he himself had taken the throne - perhaps there was more to this stranger.
Little does he realize what piece of history he may be tangling in.
Nonetheless, his interest is piqued.
"I see. Welcome, Pyroclast - the Brotherhood here can offer you shelter and protection, if you so desire it. It can also offer you much more, should you decide to take that leap and merge with us through an unorthodox initiation process." He pauses, thinking to the rich, albeit disturbing initiation within the very heart of an old, jagged cave - the helpless memories, the searing screams of torment from within. The once stark alabaster scar remains beneath his right eye, though it has faded into a light gray over time.
"We are always in need of Brothers, and residents alike. There are many women and children that reside here as well, and none are to be harmed without consequence. You are welcome to stay if you can abide by that."
OFFSPRING
the ice king of the tundra