Koltira Deathweaver (
deadelfwalking) wrote in
exsilium2012-08-10 09:27 pm
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Entry tags:
- ashraf salib (original),
- chloe frazer (uncharted),
- ico (ico: castle in the mist),
- koltira deathweaver (world of warcraft),
- martin darkov (original),
- roslyn small (original),
- ✝ bariyan e kodhi (original),
- ✝ barnaby brooks jr [t&b],
- ✝ franziska von karma [ace attorney],
- ✝ harry flynn [uncharted 2],
- ✝ kahlan amnell [sword of truth],
- ✝ loki laufeyson [marvel 199999],
- ✝ reya of candlekeep [baldur's gate],
- ✝ stiles stilinski [teen wolf]
second rune; death; video
[When the feed starts, the netbook's camera shows you a view of the forest floor. A deer carcass lies among the grass and twigs, and it's obvious that the poor thing did not have a clean death. It's in the advanced stages of decomposition, even though the blood around its body is red and fresh. The camera does not linger on this image for more than a few seconds; it pans upward, to show Koltira's face.
He's standing over the deer, holding the device in one hand, holding Byfrost with the other. Agony creases his expression: his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed, every muscle in his pale, sallow face is taut with pain. The guttural growl of his voice occasionally rises in octave as he talks, as though something is beating the shit out of him from the inside.]
Were we brought here to fight for something, or to waste time reliving the past? Send. Us. On. A mission.
[He stabs the tree next to him with Byfrost, and the sword glows sickly green; the tree bark begins to decay rapidly, as though it's practically melting. Diseased fumes pour out of the bark, forming a nasty miasma around Koltira's body.]
I need a battle. [he hisses, and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth as he bites down on the inside of his cheek.] Now.
He's standing over the deer, holding the device in one hand, holding Byfrost with the other. Agony creases his expression: his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed, every muscle in his pale, sallow face is taut with pain. The guttural growl of his voice occasionally rises in octave as he talks, as though something is beating the shit out of him from the inside.]
Were we brought here to fight for something, or to waste time reliving the past? Send. Us. On. A mission.
[He stabs the tree next to him with Byfrost, and the sword glows sickly green; the tree bark begins to decay rapidly, as though it's practically melting. Diseased fumes pour out of the bark, forming a nasty miasma around Koltira's body.]
I need a battle. [he hisses, and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth as he bites down on the inside of his cheek.] Now.
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Do you need something?
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No. [ He stares a few seconds longer, then seems to discover a patch of ground that warrants study. ] Do you?
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[it may be worth nothing that, in Ashraf's absence, Koltira has idly created a kind of sunburst design of ice-roads all around the lake. Narrow ice bridges are sparkling everywhere, all leading to the platform in the center.]
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He nods, holds a while longer, and resumes his slow hike. ]
I will, shortly.
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What are you doing, exactly?
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If you come 'round again, bring me some scotch.
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...Do you drink? [ Maybe a stupid question, but not really one he'd considered before. He'd just assumed the dead would be past things like alcohol. (A theory Bariyan would soundly disprove, if Ashraf devoted any real thought to it.) ]
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[he hopes you aren't a teetotaler as well, Ashraf, though he would hardly be surprised.]
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Scotch isn't all that expensive. He can spare the money for a bottle. ]
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Shorel'aran.
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He eyes the ice, then Koltira. ]
Is that secure?
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However, if you're worried.
[he gestures at Ashraf with one hand, and the same ice-roses that were under his own boots now start forming beneath the priest's. Grats, you can walk on the water, too.]
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This is a terrible idea all around, he's thoroughly convinced. He watches Koltira steadily as he approaches, looking grimly resigned. Not quite the appropriate expression to come bearing a gift, but there it is. And when he's as near as necessary (and not a step closer), he stops to hold the bottle out. ]
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I realize that I'm dead, but this isn't a funeral, you know.
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Would it disturb you to remain for a few moments?
[ Man, the Church would excommunicate him for this. Hanging out with a dead guy is definitely not in the teachings. ]
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Do as you will.
[The church ain't here, buddy! You're in a whole new world.]
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Your world, within the VR... [ He wants to make that a question, but isn't sure how. "Explain that" seems a bit harsh. ]
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Yes? What of it?
[There's a lot he could explain. The memory itself? The circumstances that led to it? Azeroth as a whole?]
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What happened in the true version of it?
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Exactly what you've already concluded, I imagine. I was marching with the Scourge. I killed the girl. We destroyed the village ... and then moved on, away from the fire, to destroy almost everything else.
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How did you come to... overcome that?
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