10-12-2016, 04:27 PM
and lord, I fashion dark gods too;
He can smell the fleeting scurry of her fear, and it’s a thing he savors. Though he had not necessarily intended to frighten her, he doesn’t mind if he does. There is a definite wrongness about him, though his form is equine, and a plain dappled gray, the other things that he is – a dark god, a god who has spent decades amongst galaxies, in worlds other than these – well, those things cling to him like a stench.
To his surprise, she lets out a machine-gun burst of laughter. He doesn’t react, only watches, impassive. There was a time he might have struck her down for the insolence, but he is a king, and kings should not strike down new subjects so readily. Especially not subjects who come into this wasteland.
He looks then to Tioga, as if for explanation, but she only gives him the newcomer’s name: Rhae.
He nods, as if this information matters, then smiles lazily as she inquires to his presence.
“Well, Tioga and Rhae, it’s common manners that a king welcome his new subjects, even if all he’s king of is a wasteland. We must always keep our manners, mustn’t we?”
Like not laughing inappropriately, for example. But he won’t press the issue.
“Excuse our dust,” he tells Rhae, “there was an…error in construction. It’ll be right enough soon.”
He, of course, likes this awful place, likes the dust and decay, but he also intends to leave this land as his personal relic, the way the valley had once been – and not all are so hasty as he to live amongst nothingness.
c a r n a g e
sorry for the delay in replying -_-