Post by zolomon on Apr 10, 2007 21:16:00 GMT
(OOC: Trying out a somewhat new narrative style here... what do you guys think? )
Just as the situation was about to escalate and allow some uncalled-for violence, everyone piped down and nothing came up after all. 'Bummer…' Zolomon thought and sighed. Seemed like he wouldn't be able to kick Dimitri's ass after all, since he didn't want to be the instigator. The others would probably get their panties in a bunch if he did that, and fighting them all at once sounded like very much a pain in the ass, so he decided to pass on that.
After some poetic and not-very-impressive sage words from the Samurai (Zolomon knew his name now, but he preferred calling him that name until the stuck-up bastard gave it to the vampire himself) and a long short explanation of what happened, Zolomon grinned and looked at his newly-obtained trinket with brand new respect. So it did more than complement his pale fingers. Grinning as a devilish thought sprouted in his demented mind, Zolomon suddenly spun around, and thrust his arm forward, his palm clenched in a fist, pointing at the ruined town, from which smoke still crept, forming many a dark pillar which ascended into the sky. For a split second, electricity sparked around his fist, the in the ring growing bright for the slightest of moments. A single, large spark came from it, flying forward and harmlessly landing in the grass some three feet away.
There were several seconds of dumbfounded silence on Zolomon's part, when he suddenly turned around and walked up to the unsuspecting Reiaz, aggravation and anger clearly seen dancing in his eyes in the form of a pair of small white embers. "Hey, kid... I think my shit's broken." Pointing bluntly at the ring on his finger, his eyes now narrow with suspicion and loathing. He was probably being fucked over. Being the most unpopular guy in the group usually turned out bad for you unless everyone feared you to death. Sadly, Zolomon's 'companions' didn't know him well enough.
"And, anyway, we're now supposed to go looking for your Bitch of Chaos? Or whatever it was. Is there going to be fighting? Blood? Violence? ...Chaos? If so, count me in." Though Zolomon was an unlikely associate for anybody striving for good and justice, and his motives were questionable at best, rejecting the generous offer of having Zolomon Beowulve's strength at your side was not a wise decision. Hopefully, these glory-boys wouldn't let their holier-than-thou bullshit get in the way of a prospectively mutually beneficial partnership. Then again... you never know with these hero-types. Good guys are so hard to predict. Zolomon had always considered compassion, reputation, honor in the most vain of senses, and especially principles to be an unnecessary load when making decisions. Sadly, not everyone could discard those as easily as him. 'Then again... the world wouldn't be much fun if EVERYONE was as cool as me...' Zolomon thought with a wry grin, waiting for the others to decide.
Just as the situation was about to escalate and allow some uncalled-for violence, everyone piped down and nothing came up after all. 'Bummer…' Zolomon thought and sighed. Seemed like he wouldn't be able to kick Dimitri's ass after all, since he didn't want to be the instigator. The others would probably get their panties in a bunch if he did that, and fighting them all at once sounded like very much a pain in the ass, so he decided to pass on that.
After some poetic and not-very-impressive sage words from the Samurai (Zolomon knew his name now, but he preferred calling him that name until the stuck-up bastard gave it to the vampire himself) and a long short explanation of what happened, Zolomon grinned and looked at his newly-obtained trinket with brand new respect. So it did more than complement his pale fingers. Grinning as a devilish thought sprouted in his demented mind, Zolomon suddenly spun around, and thrust his arm forward, his palm clenched in a fist, pointing at the ruined town, from which smoke still crept, forming many a dark pillar which ascended into the sky. For a split second, electricity sparked around his fist, the in the ring growing bright for the slightest of moments. A single, large spark came from it, flying forward and harmlessly landing in the grass some three feet away.
There were several seconds of dumbfounded silence on Zolomon's part, when he suddenly turned around and walked up to the unsuspecting Reiaz, aggravation and anger clearly seen dancing in his eyes in the form of a pair of small white embers. "Hey, kid... I think my shit's broken." Pointing bluntly at the ring on his finger, his eyes now narrow with suspicion and loathing. He was probably being fucked over. Being the most unpopular guy in the group usually turned out bad for you unless everyone feared you to death. Sadly, Zolomon's 'companions' didn't know him well enough.
"And, anyway, we're now supposed to go looking for your Bitch of Chaos? Or whatever it was. Is there going to be fighting? Blood? Violence? ...Chaos? If so, count me in." Though Zolomon was an unlikely associate for anybody striving for good and justice, and his motives were questionable at best, rejecting the generous offer of having Zolomon Beowulve's strength at your side was not a wise decision. Hopefully, these glory-boys wouldn't let their holier-than-thou bullshit get in the way of a prospectively mutually beneficial partnership. Then again... you never know with these hero-types. Good guys are so hard to predict. Zolomon had always considered compassion, reputation, honor in the most vain of senses, and especially principles to be an unnecessary load when making decisions. Sadly, not everyone could discard those as easily as him. 'Then again... the world wouldn't be much fun if EVERYONE was as cool as me...' Zolomon thought with a wry grin, waiting for the others to decide.