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Post by General Cheese on Oct 15, 2005 23:22:54 GMT -5
Foggy miasmas of scornful resentment stared unblinkingly at the shriveled corpse that lay before him. He had forgotten what it was like to devour the soul of another living thing. It refreshed him sufficiently and obliterated any weariness that had crept into his bones. He felt alive and prepared to feast on another. He knew that once he had eaten the essence of a living creature, he would be hooked. It was like tobacco to him.
Years ago, he had made this mistake; he had ravaged half the population of Olde Neopia Central just to get "Buzzed". This occurred near the start of his reign over Neopia.
Daray's vacant eyes drifted to the massive axe-pike that was resting on the ground. Blood obscured the the mirror-like reflection on the blade. Daray stared at his reflection; he could've sworn that his face morphed to something else for the slightest instant. He hastily shook his head, effacing the image from his mind. He shivered, knowing that he needed more souls. That, or he would have to go Cold Turkey.
And that was hell on Neopia.
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:25:42 GMT -5
(O.0 Drugs are bad...even for deamons..Gonna join as Eimear!)
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Post by E.N.T on Oct 15, 2005 23:27:24 GMT -5
((-skims through pets- Who to bring in...))
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:33:21 GMT -5
An anthro- zafara trudged through the thick snow, wind biting at her face and nose as she trudged on. Her feet sank with each step to her annoyance. A black velvet cloak clung to her body, giving her minimal protection from the freezing winds. Behind her, a Grarrl walked stiffly appearing to take no notice of the freezing temperatures. The grarrl was deathly pale. The creature had stiches running along its face and arms as if had been sewn together. But most peculiar about him was was the slip a paper on his forehead...
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Post by General Cheese on Oct 15, 2005 23:39:23 GMT -5
Daray's ears twitched as his keen ears picked up the footsteps of two others. He groggily spun around to see the faint blotches of a Zafara and Grarrl on the horizon. He smirked drunkily and began taking swaggering steps towards them.
"Souls..."
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:40:32 GMT -5
((Oh le-wow, I've gotten rusty...))
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Post by General Cheese on Oct 15, 2005 23:41:36 GMT -5
Ooc: Actually, you've improved from last time.
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:44:48 GMT -5
"Not so much unlike the homeland eh?" She called to the Garrl. The Grarrl made no answer. She looked at her path to see a figure approaching.
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:45:54 GMT -5
(( I get writers block too easy. -_-))
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Post by E.N.T on Oct 15, 2005 23:47:44 GMT -5
"Can someone shout 'drunkered'?" The darigan zafara, Laevaetion, said aloud as her arms folded and weight shifted onto her right leg.
"I'm sure someone has the capability." The shadow meerca, Mailiku, replied as his hands were stuffed in his pockets and staff was tucked near the back of his spiked belt.
"You know what I mean." Laevaetion said as she rolled her orange-red eyes through frameless glasses and tugged gently on the bottom of her uniform.
((Murf...brain dead~ish.))
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:51:23 GMT -5
brb
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Post by General Cheese on Oct 15, 2005 23:51:48 GMT -5
Daray's vision was now blurred and the feeling in his legs left him. Regardless, he was still making fast progress towards the Zafara and Grrarl. He took slight notice of Mailiku's and Laevaetion's voices in the air but decided to ignore them for now.
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:53:16 GMT -5
((Back))
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Post by Silver Emu of Valour on Oct 15, 2005 23:57:39 GMT -5
The zafara peered the through the falling snow to see the distant figure weaving back and forth as it approched. "Must be drunk..." she mumbled to herself with Irish accent, as she cooly drew out another slip of paper and bit her thumb until blood ran down her hand. Her ears also began to hear the voices of two others. Using her blood she quickly scribbled something on the slip of paper.
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Post by General Cheese on Oct 16, 2005 0:01:09 GMT -5
Ooc: And so it begins...
Bic: Daray knew that accent... His eyes widened slightly. "Ye bloody Irish!" He cried into the air. "Yer not gettin' anything from me! Ye hear!" He charged faster at the Zafara, twirling his weapon over his head.
"SCOTLAND PRIDE!"
Ooc: sleeeeeeep.
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