05-09-2009, 01:53 PM
[html]
http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... e_copy.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
500+
A sneer tugged at the corners of those black lips, for a moment disrupting that emotionless, immovable façade. And then it was gone, his lips still, even that gesture of mockery taken by the Darkness. Those black orbs flickered with a sinister black flame as the fierce gaze remained locked upon the thing that spoke. He smelled its sudden anger, and only within his malicious mind was there that mirthless laughter. Pathetic, the mind sneered. It was so easily angered—and what, by his diction? A pink tongue flickered out as if to taste the air in the manner of a malignant snake before it disappeared again. But the male made an understanding within that sinister mind; it was only appropriate that such a think would invoke such an emotion. These creatures were weak, their emotions the opiate of their strength. And it was this specific emotion—anger—that was made to release those chemicals in succession, to override logic and reason. However, although the pied brute recognized this imminent weakness within the world about him, this weakness which he did not believe himself a part, it still caused that sneer: how easily within this thing before him was that emotion invoked.
And the anger was stilled. Perhaps, the pied wolf considered, she knew that to attack him would be foolish. Perhaps she was not as ignorant as she appeared. Corvus remained sitting as he was, silent and unmoved by whatever mental endeavors overtook the mind of the thing before him. The black orbs flickered over the horse that had risen. How easy it could be for his jaws to crush that soft flesh of the neck, to have a meal more than filling and to leave the remaining carcass for the scavengers. How easy it could be for his jaws to crush that soft flesh of the thing before him, differentiated from the horse only be shape for he saw no colour and cared not for patterns. As the wind tugged at his fur, as the tail jerked slightly at his side like the body of a snake, the brute remained lithic, the effigy of some long forgotten god. These insignificant beings were not worth his time. Soon he would depart from their presence, their lives not worth the ‘honor’ of his attendance, just as he would leave this land. Filled with viruses.
Those auds, raised above his head like those infernal horns, drank the sound of that galling voice. For a great long moment, the Korean responded with nothing. The silence was permitted to fill the space between them, as permeating as the Darkness that had gathered about his form, that filled his soul and mind. The black orbs pierced the gaze of the thing, searching for something and yet finding that it was lacking. Then, suddenly, he exhaled sharply, a cold, mocking attempt at laughter that could not be completed. "I do not join you," that suave, tenor sound replied, its empty tones hollow and ambiguous. There was a flash of his strong, white teeth—a smile or a snarl?—that glinted hungrily in the night. "This world is built upon causality," the voice soothed, dripping with mockery because he did not expect it to understand. "And there is no cause for Me to join you." And the dark tendrils did not even seek to draw this ignorance to him.
500+
A sneer tugged at the corners of those black lips, for a moment disrupting that emotionless, immovable façade. And then it was gone, his lips still, even that gesture of mockery taken by the Darkness. Those black orbs flickered with a sinister black flame as the fierce gaze remained locked upon the thing that spoke. He smelled its sudden anger, and only within his malicious mind was there that mirthless laughter. Pathetic, the mind sneered. It was so easily angered—and what, by his diction? A pink tongue flickered out as if to taste the air in the manner of a malignant snake before it disappeared again. But the male made an understanding within that sinister mind; it was only appropriate that such a think would invoke such an emotion. These creatures were weak, their emotions the opiate of their strength. And it was this specific emotion—anger—that was made to release those chemicals in succession, to override logic and reason. However, although the pied brute recognized this imminent weakness within the world about him, this weakness which he did not believe himself a part, it still caused that sneer: how easily within this thing before him was that emotion invoked.
And the anger was stilled. Perhaps, the pied wolf considered, she knew that to attack him would be foolish. Perhaps she was not as ignorant as she appeared. Corvus remained sitting as he was, silent and unmoved by whatever mental endeavors overtook the mind of the thing before him. The black orbs flickered over the horse that had risen. How easy it could be for his jaws to crush that soft flesh of the neck, to have a meal more than filling and to leave the remaining carcass for the scavengers. How easy it could be for his jaws to crush that soft flesh of the thing before him, differentiated from the horse only be shape for he saw no colour and cared not for patterns. As the wind tugged at his fur, as the tail jerked slightly at his side like the body of a snake, the brute remained lithic, the effigy of some long forgotten god. These insignificant beings were not worth his time. Soon he would depart from their presence, their lives not worth the ‘honor’ of his attendance, just as he would leave this land. Filled with viruses.
Those auds, raised above his head like those infernal horns, drank the sound of that galling voice. For a great long moment, the Korean responded with nothing. The silence was permitted to fill the space between them, as permeating as the Darkness that had gathered about his form, that filled his soul and mind. The black orbs pierced the gaze of the thing, searching for something and yet finding that it was lacking. Then, suddenly, he exhaled sharply, a cold, mocking attempt at laughter that could not be completed. "I do not join you," that suave, tenor sound replied, its empty tones hollow and ambiguous. There was a flash of his strong, white teeth—a smile or a snarl?—that glinted hungrily in the night. "This world is built upon causality," the voice soothed, dripping with mockery because he did not expect it to understand. "And there is no cause for Me to join you." And the dark tendrils did not even seek to draw this ignorance to him.