09-06-2011, 11:59 PM
ooc: Sorry for the delay in my reply. I didn’t realize this thread was going on til a few days ago, and I had a busy schedule over the weekend. Future posts won't take so long. Now yay!
IC:
Thel was among the many generic grunts that swarmed around Maska when the Dreamers announced their presence. He drew up rank, standing behind the first line of guards but still just as willing for a fight. At his waist he toted the cruel whip that had become his favorite weapon. It was so effective, so torturous. It brought out a side of Thel he never knew was there.
Over the last few weeks of living in AniWaya, Thel had done things he never knew he was capable of. Even as a loner he never thought he would have performed any of these actions, not even out of necessity. But now... something about this place and his station... everything was different.
He stood to Maska’s rear-right, arms folded across his barrel chest and watching the parade of Dreamers and they approached. Brown eyes slanted with malice as they began to exchange words, the dark Italian woman trying to spat insults at Maska. Who was she to talk? An elitist like her would have rejected Thel from her ranks, forever damning him to the miserable life of a lone wolf. Maska had believed in him, had given him a home and a power he never knew could be so thrilling…
His eyes turned to the movement when the guards dragged in the pathetic hostages. Something about them brought up a primal urge… after the day in the stables, he could never look upon weakness with indifference again. He wanted to punish them for it.
He moved closer to the prisoners, nodding to the guards that held them in check. Oh, how he hoped one of them would act out, but judging by their present state there would be no fighting from them. His eyes narrowed and he grumbled his displeasure, his hand moving to the bullwhip out of pure hatred. How he wished he could…
And then one of the little bitches acted out.
It happened in a flash, surprisingly fast for the weak little twerp. She lurched, twisted, and there was blood... AniWayan blood. Thel growled and loosened the whip from it's bolt, and with one devilish flick of his arm the thing sluiced the air, it's crack piercing ears as it tore the very wind apart. Whether or not the lash landed on the girl, he wasn't sure, for by the time he drew the thing back for another blow the infidel was unconscious. How sad that she couldn't yell out. How he so wanted to hear the little girl scream just like Shiloh.
IC:
Thel was among the many generic grunts that swarmed around Maska when the Dreamers announced their presence. He drew up rank, standing behind the first line of guards but still just as willing for a fight. At his waist he toted the cruel whip that had become his favorite weapon. It was so effective, so torturous. It brought out a side of Thel he never knew was there.
Over the last few weeks of living in AniWaya, Thel had done things he never knew he was capable of. Even as a loner he never thought he would have performed any of these actions, not even out of necessity. But now... something about this place and his station... everything was different.
He stood to Maska’s rear-right, arms folded across his barrel chest and watching the parade of Dreamers and they approached. Brown eyes slanted with malice as they began to exchange words, the dark Italian woman trying to spat insults at Maska. Who was she to talk? An elitist like her would have rejected Thel from her ranks, forever damning him to the miserable life of a lone wolf. Maska had believed in him, had given him a home and a power he never knew could be so thrilling…
His eyes turned to the movement when the guards dragged in the pathetic hostages. Something about them brought up a primal urge… after the day in the stables, he could never look upon weakness with indifference again. He wanted to punish them for it.
He moved closer to the prisoners, nodding to the guards that held them in check. Oh, how he hoped one of them would act out, but judging by their present state there would be no fighting from them. His eyes narrowed and he grumbled his displeasure, his hand moving to the bullwhip out of pure hatred. How he wished he could…
And then one of the little bitches acted out.
It happened in a flash, surprisingly fast for the weak little twerp. She lurched, twisted, and there was blood... AniWayan blood. Thel growled and loosened the whip from it's bolt, and with one devilish flick of his arm the thing sluiced the air, it's crack piercing ears as it tore the very wind apart. Whether or not the lash landed on the girl, he wasn't sure, for by the time he drew the thing back for another blow the infidel was unconscious. How sad that she couldn't yell out. How he so wanted to hear the little girl scream just like Shiloh.