The Last Supper

Sirius Revlis · 03-06-2012, 02:39 AM

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Hi guys! It's about time we had another pack thread, so hustle on in for some grub! Sirius and Eris have a few new things to announce to the pack, although some of you may be aware of them already. Also, we've got a few promotions to celebrate! Congrats to everyone who has moved up a rank :3

You don't NEED to reply in here (as this particular thread is non-mandatory), but unless Sie or I hear from you, it will be assumed that your character is present, as per usual <3 >> Word Count: 3+

Sirius by Nat

Change was all about them. Usually, it was something to be suffered in silence; A law of nature that all creatures could only obey, and never hope to truly conquer. Sometimes, those with the ability to could embrace change - Adapt to it, and in doing so, better themselves. Salsola had once been born of such adaptation, and from these humble beginnings, it had surely been twisted into something much more glorious. And yet, change would still effect them in both pleasant and terrible ways. Change was, as it had always been, the only constant thing in the land of thistles.

Cool dusk air filtered through his lungs as the man emerged from his chamber. Deft fingers snapped the golden clasp at his throat shut, firmly fastening the heavy bearhide cloak about broad shoulders. The hand that had raised to do so emerged fully from the dark fur of the dead beast, revealing a stained bandage wrapped about the fore-arm. Sirius rubbed at it absently. The wound underneath had finally knitted - That intruder bitch had sliced quite deeply, and due to his own pride, the King had gotten the laceration infected. It had taken quite some time to heal, and the permanent scar left behind would serve as a reminder to the peacock monarch. Even in his pride, he had to be wary; Hatred lurked outside his borders, and if they were to preserve their way of life, then his people needed to be constantly on guard. Paranoia and suspicion was more than an emotion to those who dwelled within Salsola - It was a way of existing.

His dark form moved silently through the Ruins. A heavy fog had spilled in from the sea, clutching at his tall shape with icy fingers. In the distance danced the yellow glow of many fires, lit about the circle where a feast awaited him. The slaves had been at work all day, as was their due. It was time to call his Family to him - Time for the Last Supper to begin.

The man strode through one of the gaps in the crumbling circular wall, the dark cloak flapping at his heels. Acidic eyes immediately sought out the frame of his Auxiliary. Fire danced on Eris' midnight pelt, and she was, as always, beautiful to him. Black lips twitched up in a smile, but he said nothing, instead moving to his place at the head of the table. Apart from Eris, and the slaves she had been supervising, none had arrived within the circle of fires, to be seated at the long wooden log-table. Sirius settled on the hard-packed earth and closed his eyes a moment, stilling the chaotic chorus of thoughts within his head, creating order in the sheer genius of madness. Then, he tiled his head back and loosed a wavering cry, the ringing beckon of a King to summon his subjects.

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